Category: bible (Page 4 of 7)

No Greater Love

In the name of the Easter season I’ve been spending some time in John’s Gospel story. I have to be in the right mood for Johnny. He gets all sentimental with flowery love language, telling his version of the story in a bit of an unusual way, compared to the other 3 accounts (called in the academic world the “synoptic Gospels”).  I like the directness of Mark – he moves through the story as if it were a trip to the mall. “And then we, and then we, and then we...” And  Matthew’s rich history underwritten into his texts. And Luke the Equalizer and his love for the poor and downtrodden. So, John is more the Love Child of the gospel stories and thus when I need to get out of the business of religion, I turn to his words.

Specifically, I love his writings on Jesus’ pre-death soliloquy. Chapter by chapter, you can’t read it in one sitting – it’s much too rich. Chapters 14-17 are best in small bites. Today’s nibble that caught me was 15:13.

[box] “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.”[/box]

Now, I’ve always identified more as the one who received the love that cost life. Jesus died for me, so I’m receiving the Greatest Love. What a gift. Thank you Jesus, you shouldn’t have. I need to write a thank you note.

But today I dug out my 8th grade English skills and diagrammed this verse and realized I’ve been reading it all wrong. It’s hard in our murky English language with misplaced modifiers and gender-neutral language to completely understand it, but I’m fairly positive I’ve understood it backward.

While, yes, the beloved friends in the verse do reap benefit, they’re not experiencing the Greatest Love. That warm fuzzy is a mere bi-product. The Greatest Love goes to “the one” who is giving – giving the love, laying down the life. While we might feel special, we ought not feel as if we’ve achieved the Greatest of all Loves. We’ve simply been in relationship with one who has.

In our love-hungry culture, we frequently appeal to this desire to be loved. Look at our books and movies and find the undercurrent story of being pursued as the ultimate expression of love. I never watched it, but I believe 50 Shades appealed to a large audience because it played the strings of this desire to be the object of such a love. Christians, be careful – much of our language around dating, specifically for women, sings the same song. Be pursued. Wait patiently. It’s all very knight-in-shining-armor-y.

This narrative distorts the Greatest Love and leaves us hungry. When we devour romance novels and porn we taste something similar, but like saccharin, are not fulfilled. We’re dining on the wrong kind of love. We’re chasing a Receiving love. Jesus said we’ll be full when we begin to live a Giving Love.

Perhaps this is why God gave parenting as a gift and a practice. In this space, we’re thrust into Giving Love. We most certainly aren’t the Beloved of the relationship, and for many of us this might be the first time we’ve lost Beloved status. All of a sudden we’re Loving with costs, not just benefits.

Pair that with a culture that tells us that the measurement of our costly love is how our children turn out. Well-adjusted children become the measuring stick of love. No wonder all parents are neurotic. Because we’re seeing it backward. The beauty isn’t only in the Beloved. The real blessing is in the work of Giving Love.

The Easter season ought not be just a time to reflect on how much we are beloved, though we are and the day is a beautiful one to show gratitude. But it should be for us a time of year to focus on how we might be a Giver of love, someone who lays down one’s life.* If we stop at living the Beloved life, we’ll never actually experience the Greatest Love God has to offer.

 

 

 

 

 

*I appreciate and believe in the need for inclusive language. However, I also hate it and the way it can muck up a sentence.

Changing the world while wearing a baby sling

I’ll confess, I have a secret love affair with the most boring books of the Bible. People make jokes about falling asleep reading Leviticus, but I find it a fascinating revelation of the course of life when it was written. Find it no surprise, then, that my current reading is Deuteronomy. (Also, I got a new First-Century Study Bible for Christmas – “Explore Scripture in its Jewish and Early Christian Context” – which probably only furthers my complete geekery, but gives me joy nonetheless.)

The book of Deuteronomy is like a “final thoughts from Moses” letter – do not fear, don’t forget to turn of the coffee pot, do not fear, remember all the stuff God did for you, do not fear… you get the drift. He starts at the finish line – they’re standing on the edge of the desert, in the foothills of the land promised to them decades ago. And he tells the story about what happened when God said, “go!”

Now, I don’t believe this story, or any Biblical account, gives someone wearing a Christian badge the right or authority to start overthrowing cities and homes. These specific people were promised a specific place. They were following a cloud of God to get there. While I love a good analogy, we must be careful to know the limits of our rhetoric. I’m guessing that God did not specifically call you to go and take the really nice house in a neighboring subdivision. I’m just sayin.

So, back to the edge of the desert. God says, go! Actually, He says things like “do not be afraid, I will go with you and I will fight for you,” and encouraging things that you should cross-stitch into your pillow. However, as we know, such sayings sound good but often do little to cut the fear. So the people of Israel pretty much say, “What the hell, God? You brought us all the way over here to die?” You see, they had sent a scouting team and they came back with a 10/12 report that the people were giants and the Israelites had no hope.

To say God was a little angry would be an understatement. He “solemnly swore” (1:34),  which we all knows only happens just before an epic topple, that no one from the generation would ever see the good land. They were all heading back to the desert until a new group of Israelites – ones who would listen – grew to follow through on God’s instructions.

[box] “And the little ones that you said would be taken captive, your children who do not yet know good from bad – they will enter the land. I will give it to them and they will take possession of it. But as for you, turn around and set out toward the desert along the route to the Red Sea.” (Deut. 1:39-40)[/box]

This stopped me in my tracks. I know the argument because I argue it all the time. But what about the children?! I can’t just go off and DO all this stuff because I have little ones entrusted to me. Someone could hurt them. I have to think about their future. I want to offer them the best, and danger is not the best.

Image via CC by ‘‘ ِ Abdallah Al-Qahtani

Image via CC by ‘‘ ِ Abdallah Al-Qahtani

I’m a firm believer that the Bible doesn’t have random, meaningless writings in it. God answered these people with reference to the children they feared loosing because it was probably one of their grumblings against doing what God said to do. It was a scary command, one they weren’t convinced they could actually succeed, and to top it off, mama had an infant on her back and a toddler on her leg.

God gives a different version of good parenting than my natural inclinations. He says that we are to be faithful to him first. When we’re not faithful to follow God’s instructions, instead of protecting our children we are handing them our battles. In our desire to give them the good and right thing, we must, in faith, step out and do the hard thing. We must answer God’s call.

When this particular generation of Israelite parents declined God’s command, they also forfeited giving their children the opportunity to grow up in a land flowing with milk and honey. Because they were afraid to fight for it. Instead, they took these babes back to the desert to wander around. Their children buried their parents under sand and rock in the middle of nowhere. And these parents left their children without a legacy of faithfulness. Instead of telling their children, “we believed God, so we did it and now we live a blessed life,” they had to rewrite the narrative to say, “we didn’t believe God – please don’t make the same mistake. All eyes are on you, my child, to take these people into the place God promised because I didn’t.

Many of us want to raise children that love God and others. We want good, Christian kids who will turn into faithful, loving adults. That’s fantastic. But what will get us there is probably not charts and prizes for memorization of the Bible (though, that’s a nice thing to have scripture hidden in our hearts) but rather a front-row seat to watching parents believe God and live faithfully. The studies out there are clear: the number one influencer on a young person’s faith isn’t a stellar youth group. It’s parents who value their faith and live like it.

I’m not talking about curbing language because it’s “not Christian” or making a show of reading the Bible. I’m talking about the way in which you respond to God’s call on your life. When you take that thing, that I-have-to-do-this thing and turn it into something for the glory of God, and your children have a front row seat to watching it unfold, that leaves an impression. When mama has to leave for a small group or a meeting or an event and comes home glowing in a way that only means she experienced God – that sticks far more than mama staying home and saying that it’s important to be like Jesus.

If we don’t do the work God has set in front of us, the scary thing to which we are called, that which needs God’s presence or a complete failure is sure, than we will hand off that battle to our children. That’s not keeping them safe. That’s not giving them a good life. That’s handing down the wrong legacy.

God asks us to stop hiding behind our children, using them as a basis for our fears. Instead, we are to step into a faithful life that will give them an example of what it means to follow God.

 

 

**Obvious but I’ll state it anyway: Don’t do stuff that puts your kids in direct line of danger and just “hope for the best”, please. This is about how we use parenting as a shield for our fears. God isn’t into child sacrifice – just read the book. 

Shut the front door

We’ve never purchased those door locks that go on kitchen cabinets to keep toddlers out. Our current house came with a few in the bathroom and I find they really only frustrate me and seldom fend off a child. Instead, our approach has always been to try to teach, as the kids age, how to interact with our things. Currently Mr. M loves to open the cupboard doors to my small appliances and bang them shut. An annoyance, for sure. If we give him a few minutes, he’s usually over the entertainment and moves on. If he lingers, we send him toward the drawer filled with his own kitchen goods where he is welcome to play instead. We don’t lock the doors, we simply try to teach the children which ones are appropriate to open. 

Image via CC by www.geograph.org.uk

Image via CC by www.geograph.org.uk

So, as I’ve been mulling over the possibility needing to make a decision, the popular Christian notion of asking God to close doors has come into my path several times. Obviously, I welcome all of God’s power to do this, and perhaps that’s the course it will take. If an opportunity doesn’t make itself present, then I need not worry about “which door.”

Yet I’ve decided to do the work of wrestling while I wait. Perhaps the excessive mental work seems needless, but in honesty, I decided that my relationship with God is no longer at a toddler stage. By now he shouldn’t have to Michele-proof the doors but rather have taught me which ones are appropriate to open. With hope, if I’m tinkering in an unwanted area, I will bore of it in due time or otherwise God will remind me of where I’m welcome to play and keep me safe.

I’ve spent some time recently reading 1 Samuel, the story of the rise of King David – beginning way back when Israel had no king, then had the wrong king, and I’m currently in the part where David is escaping with his life from King Saul because everyone and his son knows that David will wear the crown before long.

In what appeared to be a boring chapter (23) of reconnaissance, I noticed the way in which David interacted with God and sought direction. David heard of a town under siege and asked God, “should I go defend it?” instead of waiting to be told. And God answered, yes. After he saved the town, Saul decided to corner him in the walled city. David heard about this and asked God if Saul was coming. God answered, yes. David asked if the city would hand him over to Saul. God answered, yes. So David fled the city.

David’s pattern of watching and listening to the world and then inquiring of God’s wisdom and will seems to be different than the pattern of sitting and waiting to hear God call out from the heavens, “Go!” After God confirmed that Saul was coming and the city would hand him over, David didn’t even inquire what to do – he simply left. He didn’t need God to tell him which door to open. God provided the information David needed to make a good (and life-saving!) decision.

God calls to each of us in different ways, and perhaps uniquely at different points in our life, which is to say that “shutting the door” is always a possibility. We can give God ultimate veto power. But is that what God wants of us? Is this the approach to living he desires? Is he content to mothering a toddler, still learning what she is allowed to play with or is there hope that we will someday reach adulthood and know where to find the blender and when when to put away the spices?

Perhaps the will of God isn’t always the mystery we believe it to be when we seek the wisdom of God know the character of God.

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