We'd been talking about people we knew in our last town when my 5-year-old came out with this question. The couple had separated and were heading for a divorce. My kids were trying to understand why. Tricky topic, but a great teachable moment. What is love? Why do people stop loving each other?
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| from 1 John 3 |
I had to explain that sometimes I don't feel like I love them - feelings come and go. But even when I don't feel loving, I try to do things that show love for them, like making breakfast, like helping them get ready for school, like getting up to them in the night if they have a bad dream. I usually don't feel like doing any of this, but I do it because I love them. In fact, it is in doing these things that I am loving them.
Love, first and foremost, is a verb - it is what we do. We see this in the quote from John's first letter. What is love (noun)? We know what it is by Jesus' action in laying down his life. Not Jesus' feelings towards us; not some tangible thing; not some intangible concept; not even Jesus' passive acceptance of fate; but his active, chosen deed.
The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life - only to take it up again. No-one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again.
Our society misunderstands love. We are fed the lie that love is how we feel, and that if we feel love, our highest duty and highest good is to act on it. Conversely, we're told that when we stop feeling love, we need to move on. As if all our morality hangs on how we feel in the moment. We get this message in countless novels, movies and tv sitcoms. We see this message implicit in the celebrity news, in magazines and on lifestyle programs.
I even heard of a wedding where the couple, writing their own vows, promised commitment to each other for "as long as love shall last". I suspect that many couples have this rider in mind, even if they don't say so out loud: "I'll be committed to you forever, until I don't feel like it any more." How romantic.
Real love is active. It is often hard work. It is gritty and determined. It is persistent. It exists regardless of feelings, and sometimes despite them.
My eldest daughter got it pretty quickly: love is not how you feel, but what you do.
Who has the strength for such love? One man only, and he is not me. Only Jesus has proven equal to such a high ideal. It is only in Jesus' strength that I can follow Jesus' loving example.
I'm talking to the kids at St Aidan's this Sunday about Jesus washing the disciples feet (John 13:1-17). What fun can't you have telling a story to a bunch of 5-9 year olds about an insanely disgusting cleanup job.
It feels like I've known the story from my mother's womb - just before the last supper, Jesus knows he's on the way to the cross, he strips off and washes the road grime, mud and animal droppings off his disciples' sweaty, stinky feet. Peter protests; he's overruled. Jesus tells his disciples to mimic his humble actions.
I've always seen it as an example Jesus set us to follow, so my thinking has usually been - "knowing this story, what do I need to do to copy Jesus' example? How should I be serving others?"
But this time, I was struck by something new:
He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”
“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”
John 13:6-8
Jesus answer to Peter doesn't make sense if he is just setting an example to follow. Jesus can hardly be saying: "Come on Simon, I need to make a point here! Just cooperate." By the time he'd got to Peter, he'd already washed enough feet to make his point.
No, Jesus' act was more than an example to follow (although it is that too). Jesus was acting out a parable. This event is firstly about what Jesus does for me and you, and then secondly about what we do in response to and imitation of him.
He lowered himself to the meanest level, to clean his followers' feet, ready for the great supper that was prepared for them.
And the following day, he suffered an even greater humiliation to carry out an even greater cleansing, to prepare an even greater number of followers for an even greater banquet!
Are you one of them?
I had grown up knowing that Jesus was my saviour. My church and Sunday school taught faithfully that I can't live up to God's standards, but that through Jesus I had a way back to God. As I passed through my teens and early twenties, the evidence of my life showed how far short I fell. So it was a great comfort to me to know that my sin-debt was paid by Jesus on the cross, and that I was adopted as a son of God. What great news!
Problem was, hardly anyone would've been able to tell the difference. Why, given such good news, did my attitude and behaviour not change much at all?
I'd only understood half the story (although I'm sure that my church taught me the whole truth).
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| C. S. Lewis |
C. S. Lewis once wrote of himself:
A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading.
That is also true of casual Christians (like me) who try to retain authority over their lives.
One year, my wife bought me a new NIV bible for my birthday. It had a “bible-in-a-year” reading plan in the back, which I followed. As I read chronologically from Genesis to Revelation, my eyes were opened to some of the great truths of Jesus:
- Jesus the life-giver, who met me and raised me and restored me when I was helpless to do those things myself;
- Jesus the go-between, who bridges the yawning chasm between me and God;
- Jesus the ransom-payer, who had bought me from my enslavement to sin and death and now owned me;
- Jesus the King, who owes me nothing, to whom I owe everything, to whom I can deny nothing.
There was no way I could read this and stay the same.
Jesus didn't pick me up, set me on my feet, pat me on the back and wish me luck on my way. Jesus tells me to count the cost of being his disciple, to abandon friends, family, comfort and even life (Lk14:25-33). He tells me that I am no longer my own, but that I have been bought at a great price (1 Cor 6:19,20).
And so began the process of abandoning myself – of abandoning my Self – and acknowledging Jesus as my King, as well as my saviour. So began the exhilarating adventure of truly living for His glory and for the good of others. So began the truly surprising realisation that in giving up my plans, desires and dreams – in giving up my life – I get it all back, richer and more joy-filled than before.
