This week I've been asking myself what it means to love someone truly, and moreover, DO I? In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, he spells out what love is. First, he makes it clear that there can be very noble-looking achievements or sacrifices--even so far as giving away everything you own and even your very life--withOUT love. Then he sums up the essence of love, which starts in the heart and moves outward.
In my life, I work backwards too much, making the outside look good before the inside can catch up. I clean the desk top but leave the drawer a mess; I keep my voice calm, while inside there's a tempest raging; I nod and smile agreeably to someone's face, then shake my head head and roll my eyes first second I get alone. Other people, I treat well because I should--they deserve it or it's my duty as a Christian. I don't feel like writing the letter, but I do; I don't feel like watching the kids, but I do; I don't feel like volunteering to wash dishes, but I do. Because that's love, right? Well, not necessarily. And at this, I feel a mixture of chagrin and relief. Chagrin because a lot of my so-called loving actions are empty at heart, and relief because I can't do it by trying--God has set us free from the Law.
I guess a lot of my "loving" actions are like the U.S. dollar, which no longer stands for its value in gold, but something more arbitrary, on its own, its market value measured against other currencies. My actions, no matter how kind and sacrificial, are as arbitrary and unstable as a piece of paper with "Love" inked across it, if they do not originate in a heart of love. It is the heart that gives value to the actions, and if the heart is right, the actions will naturally follow.
If I take an honest look at myself, my talk and my walk are about faith and deeds--which are good!--but I've neglected love--which is better! And not just better, but essential. I think I assumed that there wasn't much a person could do about their heart condition--their love, if you will--because you can't change your own heart. So I thought just entrust that part to God, and work on what you can. But when I started searching my heart, wanting to figure things out and make it right, I realized that one, it IS worth looking at our heart's condition--even if it means just praying for God to purify it--and two, I cared more about loving my friends well than I did about loving God well. I mean, when was the last time I spent my idle time pondering how much I love God, or praying for help to love Him more?
There have been times when I've wondered how to love a Divine God, but in the end I just brush off my questions and keep going on faith that God understands and it'll all work out. But what if I kept asking, "God, how can I love you?"--every day, in hard times throughout the day. It also dawned on me that I almost never say, "I love you" to God. People in serious relationships or marriage often want to hear those three little words, and I do not use them sparingly with others. So why with God? Perhaps it's a good place to start.
During this time of Lent, I'm glad to have a solid question to keep coming back to. Before Jesus ascended to heaven, he asked Peter three times: "Do you love me?" "Do you love me?" "Do you love me?" Jesus is asking all his modern disciples the same thing: "Do you love me?" It's time for me to shift my focus from bold faith to pure love. Pure love will naturally give birth to bold faith, but as we see often enough on the news if not in our own lives, bold faith without love can be quite an ugly thing. "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love" (1 Cor.13:13). So, like the desperate father in Mark 9, pleading "Lord, I believe! Help me overcome my unbelief!", here is my "text message" to God tonight: "I love You!!! (Help my lack of love!)"
"'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second [commandment] is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these." (Mark 12:30-31)
