The same thing happens
every time I think deeply about God…
We know that love is
the most important command.
It really wasn’t that
long ago that I preached about the Shema. Remember? Shema is the Hebrew word
for “Hear,” and in the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy, there is a verse which
says: “Hear, O Israel: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
with all your soul, and with all your might.”
Every Jew in ancient times grew up reciting and
memorizing the Shema, a practice which continues even today.
When Jesus was asked
what the greatest commandment was, he said:
“Shema Ysrael; Hear, O
Israel: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your
soul, and with all your might.”
And of course, the
source of that love that we are to show to God, the model for how we are to
love, is the love God has shown to us.
Some of my earliest
memories in the church involve sitting in little wooden chairs arranged in a
circle in a kindergarten Sunday School class taught by Evelyn Campbell at
Little White Chapel Christian Church in Burbank.
Those lessons were
about God’s love for us. We sang songs like “Jesus Loves Me.” And we were
introduced to Bible verses like, “Behold what manner of love the Father has
given unto us, that we should be called children of God.”
It seemed so simple
then.
I had no idea how
radical an idea love is.
It’s not love.
It’s power. Control.
Jealousy. Anger.
And occasionally we do
see attributes like jealousy and anger presented as attributes of God in the
Bible, but then it goes back to love. It always goes back to love.
It’s like the authors
of scripture got momentarily confused, and started describing the gods of the
world around them; that they got a little mixed-up for a moment and forgot
which god they were talking about.
Then a moment later
they shake their heads, wake up, and go, “Oh, yeah; our God, the one true God,
is a God of love.”
Love. Is. Crazy.
If our God chooses to
relate to us with love, rather than power or control, that is a very risky,
dangerous thing for God to do.
Also, love – a deep,
mature love – involves freedom, which only multiplies the level of risk even
further.
Now I’m not sure many
of us think of love in this way. We don’t think of the risk. We don’t think of
love as dangerous, something that leaves us so vulnerable. Because in some
ways, our idea of love is still the idea that was presented to me in Mrs.
Campbell’s kindergarten Sunday School class.
This is not to
criticize what I was taught, or what you may have been taught. What was taught
to me then was a very appropriate way to teach about love to a group of five year-olds.
But the way we love as
mature individuals isn’t quite the
same as the way we love – or experienced love – as little children.
The love of a parent
and child is very real, very deep – but it is not equal in terms of power and
control. The parent has the responsibility to care for the child; the child has
the responsibility to obey the parent.
In that sense, it’s not an equal love, nor should it be.
But now, I’m not so
sure it’s like that.
As I grew and became
an adult, I discovered a new way to love. The love I had for my parents was no
longer just because I was supposed to
love, or because they cared for and provided for me. It became something that I chose.
As a child, I don’t
know that I was even aware that not loving one’s parent was a choice, an
option, available to me. I couldn’t even conceive of that. It wasn’t on my
radar.
As an adult, I no
longer feel the compulsion to love. I
realize now that the choice to not
love is a choice that is available … and there are people who choose to not
love.
Having this choice is
not a bad thing. In fact, it’s quite
wonderful. Because it’s so much more meaningful to be loved by someone who has
the choice of whether or not to love. To be loved by someone who has no choice
but to love – well, that’s not really love. That’s power and control.
And power and control
are the characteristics of all those other
gods. “You must love me, or else…” That’s not really love. That’s power and
control.
As a child grows, the
parent gives the child more choice, more freedom, more responsibility… and
hopefully the tools to make those choices and exercise that freedom and
responsibility in ways that are mature.
And a parent who truly
loves his or her child will encourage the child on this path to freedom.
What a terrible, risky thing love is!
As I think about this,
and think about God’s love, I come to
the same conclusion. Wouldn’t God favor a more mature love, an adult love,
rather than a five year-old’s concept of love?
God loves us. God
loves each and every one of us. God does not use power to control us. God gives
us freedom, because love without freedom isn’t love at all, or at least not
mature love.
Which means that God
gives us the freedom to accept that love and love God in return, or to reject
God and reject God’s love.
The most visible
expression of God’s love we have is Jesus. Jesus is God’s love incarnate. God
gave the world Jesus and said, “this is my gift to you, my most precious, beloved
gift. This is the sign, the symbol, of how much I love you.
“Listen to him. I’m
not going to make you listen to him.
I’m not going to force you to do what
he says and live as he taught. I love you, so I’m giving you the freedom to choose whether or not you will follow
him.”
It’s a more mature,
risky, dangerous sort of love.
“For God so loved the
world that he gave his only son…”
To love fully, with a
mature love, means you leave yourself vulnerable. To love like that means you might get hurt.
The one you love so
dearly might take your love and nail it to a cross.
Fortunately, God’s not going to do that with our
love. We can choose to love God with all our heart, all our soul, all our might,
and God will accept our love and cherish it and rejoice over it.
But here’s the catch.
To love God, we must
love our neighbor.
When you love your
neighbor, you are giving your neighbor a part of yourself. That is a precious
gift. And your neighbor can accept that love, can return that love… or they can
abuse that gift, and hurt you..
Because love offers a choice. Love gives freedom. The one you love can
either cherish your love, or nail it to a cross.
Love is risky and dangerous.
And yet, love persists.
Why?
Why do we keep loving, even when it is so
dangerous, so risky, to do so?
Because love is patient; love is kind.
Love does not insist on its own way.
Love is not resentful.
Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love is the greatest of all.