Love, love, love
1 Corinthians 13
Everybody's favorite love text. "All you need is love," sang the Beatles. But were they telling the truth? Is love all anyone needs?
I wonder.
If we drop down to Paul's last line, he gives us the three great attributes of the believer--faith, hope, and love. He sees these practices--and they were practices--as the absolute essentials for us to foster as we seek to follow our faith into the very real world in which we live.
But what are they?
Faith is trusting God to be God. In faith, the saints of God have tried to obey the guidelines God sets for human existence. They practice charity even when it seems that holding onto what you have makes a lot more sense in uncertain times--some even give more than they receive because they trust that God will be with them and that it will turn out all right. They dive into the fray of parenthood, marriage, commitment, and dedication even though conventional wisdom tells them to hold back, wait and see, check the parameters first, then take a risk--and a small one at that. They make the attempt to meet everyone with kindness, listening first before acting or saying anything, even though conventional wisdom says to act first before you get acted upon. They do these things because they trust God to be God. They heard the promises of God to be present, to empower their obedience, and to bless their attempt.
Trust is hard to come by in the world as it is. Too many times, we trust someone, only to find out they were really just after their own gratification. We trust someone when they say they need help, but find out they just wanted our stuff. We trust someone with a secret, and then there it is on Facebook. Our experience leads us to lump God in with the rest. Why not? The world's a mess and God seems to be asleep at the wheel.
Faith sees, hears, and knows all of this, but knows God to be God.
Which leads to hope.
Hope is being able to face to life as it is and intone with Julian of Norwich, "All shall be well and all manner of things shall be well." Hope sees another day, no matter what happens to be in this day. Hope never sees a last chance. Hope is able to look at the world as it is and still believe things can be better than they are.
Just think of your basic Chicago Cubs' fan. Each year, they gobble all the tickets for every home game in Wrigley Field. Each year, the prospects are grim. Chicago hasn't won a World Series in over a century. Each year, the Cubs are done for all intents and purposes by Father's Day. Yet, the fans line up, buy the tickets, and follow along. Why? Hope. No more, no less.
As we believe, we, too, apply this stance to life. With God all things are possible, says the Bible. To believe is to take such a thought seriously. It meets all that life throws at us with hope--even death.
Then comes love. Only then. As we bind ourselves to God, holding to the promises of life and light in the midst of the daily darkness, and as we look to tomorrow with prospects that things can be good and that grace will be there, then we can have the courage to risk love.
And what is love as Paul imagines it?
Well, he runs through quite a catalog in this paragraph, mostly describing everything that isn't love, nor has love's power.
But he leaves us a trail of clues as to what makes love, love.
Love is that which is other-centered, as opposed to self-centered. In the practice of love, the first question is always "What do YOU need?" When we meet someone, that is the first thing to consider.What do they need? What can I offer them? Maybe it is an ear to listen--not hear, mind you--but listen to them. Maybe they need a good dose of hospitality--to be made welcome in our presence without strings, expectations, or qualifications. Maybe they need help--help changing a tire, help paying a bill, help tying a shoelace--you fill in the blank as you meet them. Maybe they need a shoulder to lean on or cry over. Maybe they need a cup of coffee. We can risk losing ourselves in meeting their needs because God is God, and God is good, and there is hope that all shall be well, no matter what happens.
Love is also that which is self-sacrificial. Meeting others' needs comes at a cost. It is self-emptying to meet others as they need to be met. There is no question in this aspect of love, but rather an answer to the ancient cry, "How much is enough?" The answer that comes through love--"Enough to make you well and all manner of things well."
Watching my parents age and enter the most difficult time of their life this past year illuminated the truth of Paul's reasoning. My parents have gotten through all the mess by thinking of each other. I had a weird, but not unexpected moment of surreality on a recent visit. I had breakfast with Dad as he talked about all that Mom needed. He went to run some errands, and I went to see Mom in her healthcare room, and no sooner had I sat down, than she began to list all that Dad needed. They each ended their remarks with, "I'm not worried about me, I'll be fine--I'm worried about her (him)." Their words were so nearly identical that I thought they'd been scripted. Well, I guess they had. 55 years of marriage wrote them.
Such love takes time. It takes practice.
It also takes a lot of faith. And it takes a lot of hope.
But in the end, it is the love that makes all else fall into place, and it is the love that sees us through every day that we have.
So maybe all we need is love--but I'll have mine with a side of faith and slice of hope, please.
Everybody's favorite love text. "All you need is love," sang the Beatles. But were they telling the truth? Is love all anyone needs?
I wonder.
If we drop down to Paul's last line, he gives us the three great attributes of the believer--faith, hope, and love. He sees these practices--and they were practices--as the absolute essentials for us to foster as we seek to follow our faith into the very real world in which we live.
But what are they?
Faith is trusting God to be God. In faith, the saints of God have tried to obey the guidelines God sets for human existence. They practice charity even when it seems that holding onto what you have makes a lot more sense in uncertain times--some even give more than they receive because they trust that God will be with them and that it will turn out all right. They dive into the fray of parenthood, marriage, commitment, and dedication even though conventional wisdom tells them to hold back, wait and see, check the parameters first, then take a risk--and a small one at that. They make the attempt to meet everyone with kindness, listening first before acting or saying anything, even though conventional wisdom says to act first before you get acted upon. They do these things because they trust God to be God. They heard the promises of God to be present, to empower their obedience, and to bless their attempt.
Trust is hard to come by in the world as it is. Too many times, we trust someone, only to find out they were really just after their own gratification. We trust someone when they say they need help, but find out they just wanted our stuff. We trust someone with a secret, and then there it is on Facebook. Our experience leads us to lump God in with the rest. Why not? The world's a mess and God seems to be asleep at the wheel.
Faith sees, hears, and knows all of this, but knows God to be God.
Which leads to hope.
Hope is being able to face to life as it is and intone with Julian of Norwich, "All shall be well and all manner of things shall be well." Hope sees another day, no matter what happens to be in this day. Hope never sees a last chance. Hope is able to look at the world as it is and still believe things can be better than they are.
Just think of your basic Chicago Cubs' fan. Each year, they gobble all the tickets for every home game in Wrigley Field. Each year, the prospects are grim. Chicago hasn't won a World Series in over a century. Each year, the Cubs are done for all intents and purposes by Father's Day. Yet, the fans line up, buy the tickets, and follow along. Why? Hope. No more, no less.
As we believe, we, too, apply this stance to life. With God all things are possible, says the Bible. To believe is to take such a thought seriously. It meets all that life throws at us with hope--even death.
Then comes love. Only then. As we bind ourselves to God, holding to the promises of life and light in the midst of the daily darkness, and as we look to tomorrow with prospects that things can be good and that grace will be there, then we can have the courage to risk love.
And what is love as Paul imagines it?
Well, he runs through quite a catalog in this paragraph, mostly describing everything that isn't love, nor has love's power.
But he leaves us a trail of clues as to what makes love, love.
Love is that which is other-centered, as opposed to self-centered. In the practice of love, the first question is always "What do YOU need?" When we meet someone, that is the first thing to consider.What do they need? What can I offer them? Maybe it is an ear to listen--not hear, mind you--but listen to them. Maybe they need a good dose of hospitality--to be made welcome in our presence without strings, expectations, or qualifications. Maybe they need help--help changing a tire, help paying a bill, help tying a shoelace--you fill in the blank as you meet them. Maybe they need a shoulder to lean on or cry over. Maybe they need a cup of coffee. We can risk losing ourselves in meeting their needs because God is God, and God is good, and there is hope that all shall be well, no matter what happens.
Love is also that which is self-sacrificial. Meeting others' needs comes at a cost. It is self-emptying to meet others as they need to be met. There is no question in this aspect of love, but rather an answer to the ancient cry, "How much is enough?" The answer that comes through love--"Enough to make you well and all manner of things well."
Watching my parents age and enter the most difficult time of their life this past year illuminated the truth of Paul's reasoning. My parents have gotten through all the mess by thinking of each other. I had a weird, but not unexpected moment of surreality on a recent visit. I had breakfast with Dad as he talked about all that Mom needed. He went to run some errands, and I went to see Mom in her healthcare room, and no sooner had I sat down, than she began to list all that Dad needed. They each ended their remarks with, "I'm not worried about me, I'll be fine--I'm worried about her (him)." Their words were so nearly identical that I thought they'd been scripted. Well, I guess they had. 55 years of marriage wrote them.
Such love takes time. It takes practice.
It also takes a lot of faith. And it takes a lot of hope.
But in the end, it is the love that makes all else fall into place, and it is the love that sees us through every day that we have.
So maybe all we need is love--but I'll have mine with a side of faith and slice of hope, please.
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