Like Looking at the Sun

Part 2 in the series, What Makes a Christian?

***

It is amazing how often we fail a most basic mark of the faith.

It is a downright scandal how rarely it is preached.

It's questionable how directly our religious and moral practices stem from it.

Yet if we believe the direct words of Jesus Himself--you know, God--the very ability of others to recognize our Christian identity is dependent on how we follow this.

We gather in churches. We have elaborate worship and praise. And yet we barely give lip service to the first and foremost of the commandments. When we do, it is often to give exceptions--No, Jesus didn't really mean that . . .

I'm talking about the Greatest Commandment--love God and love neighbor. Abundantly.

Christians often spend more time talking about obscure lines from the Bible or obscure doctrines about obscure topics, and it's amazing how very little time we actually spend on the fundamental, core command that Jesus Himself preached to us.

If you want to take the Bible literally: God Himself actually told us what to focus on!

Jesus is very clear that the fundamental commandment is to love God and neighbor and that our public witness of this will be the very mark of our Christian identity (John 13:34-35), that our closeness to the Kingdom (Mark 12:28-34) and participation in eternity (Luke 10:25-37) are contingent on it, that all other rules and parameters can be understood only in light of it (Matthew 22:34-40). That's it. All else gets at best a distant second or third place.

And yet our denial knows no bounds. It's rubrics. It's obscure passages. It's theologizing about the finer points of a Baptism--full immersion or partial? Oil or water?

How about loving God and neighbor as the only full immersion God asks for?

Given the seriousness and centrality of the Greatest Commandment, you would think two out of every three sermons would be focused on it. You would think we'd have task forces set up to evaluate how good we are doing in living it out and suggesting ways to do it better and better.

It is so simple, yet so difficult. We do everything we can to make being "Christian" about something else--it's about church membership, a certain baptismal formula or having the right "beliefs." Even denominations at odds with one another have this in common! Way to go, ecumenism!

You could argue those other things are important, too. But we put them front and center when Jesus was clear that something else was front and center. He actually comes out and tells us to put this commandment first, and we do everything except that.

We don't outright deny the Greatest Commandment. Oh no, we would never be so bold. Rather, we do something far more sinister--we just sort of brush it aside, put it on a pedestal and otherwise ignore it.

We box it in, limit it, put the ropes around it because, in truth, it scares the living daylights out of us.

Rubrics, rules, doctrines, Morse code, alien symbols and Cracker Jack box toys--all of these only make sense in their proper place. All too often, we place them first and foremost rather than as secondary or tertiary matters which can only be properly viewed and understood in light of the primary commandment, according to the passage from Matthew above.

We find ways to rationalize. We claim that God must want our bitterness, divisions, hatreds and such, so "loving God" then becomes manifesting these things. We find every excuse NOT to love abundantly, NOT to overflow with mercy, NOT to do all that love requires of us. We can contort anything into what we want, but much of it isn't in the spirit of the New Testament. For example, we can find all sorts of examples in Scripture and Church history to support all sorts of actions. The Bible is full of war and violence of all kinds, so we could claim Biblical support for these actions. Before we blindly imitate them and claim some Scriptural backing, we should ask--does this love God and love neighbor abundantly? If not, it should go to the fires of Gehenna.

Still, individuals and churches do everything they can to wiggle out of these requirements and try to make it out to be about something else. It's not that those other things aren't important--the scandal is the disproportionate amount of energy we put into those obscure things compared to what should be first and foremost.

And let's be clear: It's absolutely and totally a scandal how we treat the Greatest Commandment.

We give lip service to love. We attempt it here and there. But we are like unruly teenagers whose parents have told us to clean the house while they are gone. So we first spend several hours watching TV, talking to our friends, and yes, thinking about cleaning the house from time to time. About 10 minutes before they return, we run roughshod over the house to give the appearance of cleanliness. That is how I see us regarding the commandment to love. We do talk about it, just enough to get that monkey off our back and claim that we are following it. But the level of enthusiasm and energy we put into it is not anywhere near what we are commanded to do by Jesus--you know, God Himself.

I'll stand up and say that theology matters. We need to ponder over the deep stuff. I'm doing it right now. We need to meditate on who Jesus was and is and what that means for us today. Our churches have all been enriched by deep theological traditions. Rituals, church institutions, doctrines--all these matter, too. They have their place--the problem is that they are not staying in their place but have all-too-often assumed center stage.

We shouldn't make the mistake of assuming that theologizing about God is the same thing as being a Christian. That would be like mistaking the pre-game huddle with the football game itself. The preparation time is NOT the game. For far too many, simply "figuring out" their personal theology is an end unto itself. Pope Francis challenges us on this: It 's not just church leaders, but also theologians who should "smell like the sheep." No one is exempt from the hard work of living out the Commandment.

I love theology, but I have to admit my faith is pretty simple.

To me, Jesus' message is both incredibly simple and also incredibly difficult at the same time. Little children get it. The poor get it. Those on the margins of society get it. The more and more "stuff" we have just makes it more difficult to hear the message. It doesn't matter if the "stuff" is material wealth or just something else we are holding onto. It could be anger. It could be our ego. It could be our need to be right. The Gospels predict this. The more attached people were to their stuff the harder time they had accepting the truth of Jesus and following.

Let that stuff go and you start to see Jesus.

Maybe the message of Jesus is like looking into the sun. It's just so bright we can't do it for long. All we can do is hint and squint at it and try to come back to it later when we are ready. There is a case to be made for that.

Maybe humankind will always be sun worshippers--the first and perhaps the only religion.

God Himself gave us the commandment. Why is this not being preached from the mountaintops? Why is this not the cornerstone of all that we say and do? Because:

Jesus is the cornerstone (Psalm 118:22, Ephesians 2:20)

and

Jesus is God (John 1:1, 1:14, Matthew 1:23)

and

 "God is love.

Whoever lives in love

lives in God,

and God in them."

(1 John 4:16)

Therefore love is the cornerstone. Our active participation in love puts us in line with God, the Creator, as love is the creative energy of the universe, and love is the wavelength of eternity.

 

***

 

This is part 2 in the series, "What Makes a Christian?" Each part stands on its own.

Part 1: The Elephant in the Living Room
Part 2: Like Looking at the Sun
Part 3: John 3:16 vs the Greatest Commandment
Part 4: The Law Hangs in the Balance of Love
Part 5: The First Commandment Shall Be Last

The Elephant in the Living Room

Part 1 of the series, What Makes a Christian?

Sometimes I think that the collective witness of Christianity is best expressed by the expression, "the elephant in the living room."

I can close my eyes and envision millions--perhaps even billions--of Christians in this large room, all talking, milling about and being energetic about their faith--but virtually ignoring this giant elephant who is right there in the middle of it all.

They even have to bend and contort themselves to see around this elephant, but they continue to ignore him.

What is this elephant?

Let's look at it this way:

Christians profess that God Himself lived on earth in the person of Jesus Christ.

You with me so far?

God Himself walked among us, teaching, preaching and showing what He meant by His life example. He was very clear what was the most important. 

That giant elephant is the Greatest Commandment.

I hear Jesus saying: Of all the things you do, do this.

If you're gonna put your time and attention anywhere, put it here: Love God and love neighbor abundantly.

Yet, how often is this preached?

Of course, it is mentioned.

What I mean is: How often is it preached like this? 

How often is it preached the way Jesus preached it:

With intensity,

Centrality,

And a sense of utter, singular importance?

I'm sometimes baffled by our ignorance--it must be some kind of collective denial. But it is certainly immensely disrespectful to the person Who we claim is God.

* * *

The Greatest Commandment is in all 4 Gospels:

In Mark 12:28-34, Jesus makes a connection between following this commandment and one's closeness to the Kingdom of God:

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 is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.

In Matthew 22:34-40, Jesus tells us that all other laws are to be read through the lens of the Greatest Commandment. All other laws are qualified by--and cannot be otherwise understood--outside of this context:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.

In Luke 10:25-37, Jesus not only gives the command to love God and neighbor, but he also says this is what you must do to inherit eternal life. How often have you heard that preached at church? I am not a betting man, but it would be easy money to say that most preachers only mention this line in order caution us not to take it too seriously--using other lines from the Bible to qualify--or outright negate--this statement by Jesus Himself. They say that Jesus could not possibly have meant what He, you know, actually said:

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”
He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

Jesus then tells the story of the Good Samaritan. He gives the answer in verse 37:

The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

In John 13:34-35, Jesus states that our very public witness of our Christian identity itself depends on whether or not we love one another. Otherwise, people will not recognize that we are indeed Christians. Jesus tells us to follow his example. Jesus not only gives the commandment to love, but also states that His life has modeled this love. 

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.

If there is any doubt as to who is included in the list of people to show love toward, the New Testament is clear--the commandment to love includes everyone from those in our own Christian group to the widows, orphans, outsiders, marginalized people on up to and including our enemies. In other words: Everyone. There is no shortage of Scripture citations to back this up. We will explore this further in the next post, stay tuned!

***

This is part 1 in the series, "What Makes a Christian?" Each part stands on its own.
Part 1: The Elephant in the Living Room
Part 2: Like Looking at the Sun
Part 3: John 3:16 vs the Greatest Commandment
Part 4: The Law Hangs in the Balance of Love
Part 5: The First Commandment Shall Be Last

Checklist for Love -- 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

 

A New Commandment

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. John 13:34 (NIV)

Many argue that the Gospel of John passage is Jesus specifically telling the disciples to love other Christian disciples. Elsewhere in Scripture, Jesus is clear that the extent of this love includes everyone--even enemies, outcasts, sinners and anyone not in our comfort zone.

Unfortunately, sometimes "other Christian disciples" and "enemies" are one and the same thing. In any case, the demands of love span from those closest to us to the most distant.

Checklist for Love

Now that we have the commandment to love one another, it begs the questions: How? What does it mean for Christians to love others? This certainly requires deep thought, meditation and practice. Perhaps it calls for trial & error. It is easy to dismiss "love" as merely sentimental, as a feeling rather than an action.

Paul gives us an idea of what love looks like in the famous passage in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. It is a popular reading for weddings, but its reach goes far beyond that.

I like to look at Paul's beautiful words as a checklist. It holds us accountable. "Love one another" is a powerful commandment--jaw-dropping, life-changing, paradigm-altering, heaven-and-earth-shaking, in fact. It is also open ended enough that we can find it all too easy to ignore. The word "love" is so big and the scope is so broad that we can end up doing nothing at all--it goes without saying that we will fall short, which often becomes license for inaction or downright contradiction.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8 helps stave that off. Paul keeps the magic of love while stripping it of its needless sentimentality. This where the rubber hits the road, as we shall see.

[The headers below are based on the NIV translation, with the NRSV mentioned from time to time.]

Love is patient

We can all say we feel love. It is easy to say we value love. We can all agree that love is difficult in our complex, sinful world. We can affirm these things, proverbially pat ourselves on the back and then let the discussion die on the vine right then and there. Paul does not allow that. He presses us--So, have you been patient with others?

This is a very different question about love. Do we acknowledge that others are on a path of growth, that they have limitations and blind spots, too? Patience allows space for grace to enter, instead of being drowned out by our impulsive triggers and autonomic reactions.

Love is kind

A mentor of mine would always say that it is better to describe love than to use the word love itself. Love itself is like the sun--the source of all light but almost impossible to look at directly. It is better to understand the sun by looking at the plants that grow from its rays, the rainbows that emit from a prism of raindrops and the colors visible to the eye through shades and shadow.

In other words: I cannot look at the sun, but I like how you look in the sun.

This resonates brilliantly here: Kindness. I absolutely adore this word. It connotes gentleness, compassion, warmth. It is our default stance to others when we approach them in love.

It does not envy

It is interesting that this should be in a list of qualities of love. You might think that envy and love go hand in hand. Can you not love someone so much that you also envy them? Paul suggests no. 

The Christian journey is instead one of gratefulness for the gifts God has given. We can appreciate the gifts that others have without clinging to them. Envy is often more of a sign that we are not loving ourselves than it has to do with the other person. Yes, there are many lovely things about you. Perhaps I can learn from you, but I will not confuse that with wanting to be you to the point where I confuse my own identity with you. To love others, we must first love ourselves. Envy opens the door to objectifying someone else. It begins in self-hate and ends in destroying others.

It does not boast

This is the flip side of envy. People who boast seek to augment themselves, usually at the expense of others. It comes before pride in the list, but it is pride in action, as we shall see below. Whether we envy someone else or boast about ourselves, both express a lack of love for ourselves and a break from the fundamental equality of all people before God.

It is not proud.

It was no accident that Medieval scholars and saints consistently saw pride as the deadliest of the deadly sins. It is a direct affront to God as we claim ourselves as the source of our merit rather than God, from whom all good things flow. Pride therefore makes it hard to express love properly to others, as we have attempted to obstruct the fundamental relationship of God to ourselves.

Pride comes across as an air of superiority. Underneath it all, it probably comes out of a sense of inferiority. Neither is acceptable. Love is a level playing field; it is the great equalizer. We are all children of the God, equal in God's eyes. Pride prevents us from seeing that. Pride creates hierarchy--it says that this person is better or less than this other person.

 

It does not dishonor others

There is a difference between disagreement and dishonoring. We can and should offer each other constructive feedback. The NRSV simply uses the word "rude." Talking abruptly and crudely is not what love looks like.

That being said, a fake politeness that masks a subtle disregard does not work very well either. It does not ultimately matter if someone is polite or not--is the other person being dishonored, slandered, mocked or disregarded by your speech and behaviors?

The Google dictionary definition of "dishonor" says it is a failure to observe an agreement or principle. I love this. The "agreement" is what Scripture tells us--that all humans are brothers and sisters to each other and children of the same God. To "dishonor" someone is to disregard this principle which has been revealed to us through the Christian faith.

It is not self-seeking

I like the NRSV translation: "It does not insist on its own way."

Love is like a dance--it would not be very artistic if one person dragged the other person around the dance floor, caveman style. Instead, they both work together to move in harmony with each other, so that neither is hurt and both can express their gifts.

You probably cannot "insist on your own way" without running the risk of "dishonoring the other person."

It is not easily angered

People often cite Jesus getting angry at the money changers in the Temple as a justification for getting angry. We must remember that Jesus is slow to anger. He does not get angry very often in the Gospel accounts.

We are always looking for little slippery slopes to bypass Jesus' commandment to love. One instance of Jesus getting angry does not give us an unlimited permission to be impulsive or regularly angry. I have heard people reason it through this way: Jesus got angry once, so therefore "anger" is a universally good thing whenever I decide to express it. The actions of Jesus suggest there may be a place for anger--as long as it is measured and very, very rare.

God is slow to anger--are we?

NRSV says love "is not irritable or resentful." Both of those works connote someone who is at the brink of anger, and others around them will feel like they are walking on eggshells.

 

It keeps no record of wrongs.

I admit this is a hard one for me. There has to be a place for healthy accountability. It does no one any good to be a regular punching bag for someone else. But do you define someone by your perceived problems with them or by their noteworthy characteristics? Some people walk around all day dragging that ole ball-and-chain--every pain they have ever experienced. We ought to remember things. We should not sweep problems under the rug. But once they are dealt with, they should be released to the white light of the Holy Spirit.

The NRSV is helpful here. The previous line ends with "resentful" and continues with "it does not rejoice in wrongdoing." That hones in on what I am describing. People can be truly hurt by others, but when they carry that badge of victimhood around so prominently you can sometimes wonder if they are not actually happy that they were injured--it gives them something to complain about. They almost celebrate the injury as a way to make others feel bad by holding onto that resentment and keeping score. Or they overemphasize it as a way to give them license to mistreat the other.

Sr. Helen Prejean--the Catholic sister who works against the death penalty--says it is important how we talk about our sin. She asks: Do you want your worst action to define you as a person? In other words: Is a criminal on death row a murderer who happens to be a person--or are they a person who happens to have murdered someone? It is about how we define ourselves and others. Keeping a record of wrongs can prevent us from truly entering into a relationship with the other person. We have written the sin up and written the person off. It allows us to avoid becoming vulnerable and entering into the mystery of the person before us and be open to what they have to offer.

Jesus was constantly making space and time for people that others had written off. As we shall see, love has the final say, not condemnation.

 

Love does not delight in evil

You can see that this is a dangerous path. What starts with "envy" quickly translates into "resentful," turns into "rejoice in wrongdoing," which ultimately leads into "delight in evil." Paul maps out this descent into the dark side very well in his litany of terms. People become so convinced of their rightness, and so entitled to their anger, that they cross a line into rejoicing in evil often without realizing it. 

It is never good when bad things happen. By definition.

But rejoices with the truth.

This is where things get dicey. Just when someone is about to let go of their preconceived notions, step out of their protected shell and engage with others in openness and vulnerability, this line shoots out like a canon blast and can justify holding on to our petty arguments and divisions.

This is a tricky passage. What do you do if another group holds a belief or has a practice that you do not agree with? Even worse, what if you consider it to be evil? Some people take this line to mean that the only way to hold true to their beliefs is to exclude people who do not fit into that.

Christians have often looked on this verse as a reason to break relationship. However, Jesus rarely did that. He disagreed with many folks but so often in Scripture you see him reaching out. He stays in relationship. He stays in dialogue. He continues to be compassionate, loving and gentle.

Pope Francis recently described a Christian as someone more interested in building bridges than walls. The pontiff nails it. There is a time and a place for walls, yes. But I am not convinced we ever need a wall until someone can demonstrate that they have first worked tirelessly to build bridges.  Until someone can show that building a wall is a last resort--and not the first, impulsive action--then I will stand unconvinced that a wall is either necessary or in line with the demands of love.

Before we snap back reflexively into our comfort zone of divisions and categories of who's right and who's wrong, I'd like to focus on the word "rejoice" here. Sometimes we think of the word "truth" as being the deposit of dogmas and doctrines that our church denomination holds. One of the most popular guiding expressions when it comes to the movement toward Christian unity is called a "sharing of gifts" St. Pope John Paul II used that expression frequently, and it has become a guiding mantra for ecumenism. Simply put, we ought to testify to how God has been working in our lives.  We can share that joy with others. 

To "rejoice in the truth" does not mean we use our beliefs as a justification for divisions and exclusions. Nowhere does it say or imply that. If you disagree, read it again and slowly. This is a celebration.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

As if there were any doubt.

As if this passage has not been abundantly clear.

Can you imagine protecting your enemies?  You should, because this is what love looks like.

Trust is also a hard one. Trust in what, exactly? I hear Paul asking us to give the benefit of the doubt. Can we trust that there is something of the goodness of God in everyone, even our enemies?

Can you never give up hope that goodness will always prevail, no matter how deep the wound or how vast the division? 

All of this culminates in this astonishing capstone:

Love never fails.

Just in case you were looking for an out. Just in case all of the above demands and descriptions of love were still not enough. Just in case you still found a way to escape back into your protective bubble and hurdle proverbial grenades at your opponents, Paul comes out and says it outright: Love hangs in there. Love has the final say. In short, love works and love wins. 

After all, everything besides loves is just a bunch of senseless noise (1 Cor 13:1-3).

Will you hang in there, too?

Love is one of the hardest things to do. We look for any way that we can wiggle out of the demands of love and continue in our ways of divisions. One by one, Paul engages all the reasons we give ourselves to opt out of the path of love.

We all think love is a great idea. But do we think patience is a good idea? How about kindness? . . .and so on down the checklist.

Linus sums up what this post is about so well!



Pope Francis -- More than a Change in Tone

It is almost impossible to read a commentary about Pope Francis without someone describing his approach as a "change in tone."

This is a big debate in Catholic circles about the leadership of Pope Francis.  He seems to be changing a lot of things.  Is he changing basic beliefs?  Some say he is just bringing a new style.  Some say he is focusing on our pastoral practices but not changing doctrine.

There is reason to celebrate the expression "change in tone"--those who fear change are reassured of continuity and those who want radical change are also affirmed that their view has a long history of Church support. The phrase is politically ingenious.

However, the phrase lacks bite in an important way:  All of these suggestions are inadequate, because belief and practice are not isolated from each other.

I will go on record in saying that "a change in tone" is one of the worst ways of understanding Francis.

Gridiron Christianity or Locker Room Analysis?

Before a football game, the teams meet in the locker rooms and strategize with mock plays on the chalkboard.  They study the rules and rehearse drills.  They review the mishaps and celebrations from the previous week.

Later, they show up on the gridiron and attempt to turn those plays into reality--all the while experiencing the elements, shouting crowds and on-the-field improvisations.  The lessons from the past and the hopes for the future all intersect in the present moment in the snap of the football. The arrows and symbols on a chalkboard are simplistic representations of a much bigger process that unfolds in the lived reality of the game.  While the playbook matters, no one would ever confuse the playbook with the game itself.

Going from the locker room playbook to the lived reality of the field is far more than simply a "change in tone"--it is the game itself.

How silly it would be for people to debate the correct sequence of plays in the locker room and never step foot on the football field, yet that is exactly how many Christians live their Christian life.  We act like the theory is more important than the practice.  We choose the life of a sports commentator rather than the grunts, tackles and gasps of a first-person encounter.  It makes no sense for football.  Why do we settle for this in our spiritual walk?

We play football on the field but many of us live Christianity in the locker room. 

I know a lot of folks who approach Catholic Social Teaching as a mental exercise.  They spend hours pouring over books and locked in discussions.  They struggle to understand what Jesus meant when he called on people to "feed the hungry," for example.

From the perspective of the hungry person, it matters little if people have the best theology if that theology does not somehow manifest in the form of potatoes, corn and beans in front of them.

Likewise, it matters little if someone can poorly articulate a cohesive theology if they come in love bearing sacks of grain.  On some level of their being, they "get it" even if their explanation would not hold up to an academic critique.

Some say that love by itself is not the Gospel.  I am not sure about that.  What I would argue is that doctrine without love is not the Gospel.

The Good News for the hungry is not the reassurance that well intentioned people are studying the Gospels--the Good News is knowing that the food delivery truck is on its way.

It's All About Love

Scripture reminds us of the Mystery of love--without it, our actions are just a senseless banging of gongs and cymbals (1 Cor 13:1). It is as if what we do does not even matter without love--those actions do not participate in eternity.

God turns chaos into order in Genesis, and without love our actions deteriorate back into chaos. Love, therefore, is the creative expression of God!  Scripture speaks to this in saying, "everyone who loves is born of God" (1 John 4:7). 

Going from noise to music is, literally speaking, a change in tone.  But to stop there in the description is to miss something big: It is also what separates order from chaos.  It separates what endures from that which fades, the eternal from the temporal.  It separates death from life, as James reminds us that "faith without works is dead" (James 2:26)--it is not because we "earn" salvation through our own efforts, as the great Reformers worried, but rather it is because knowing Jesus is whole-person endeavor that is much more than just intellectual knowledge.

To the extent that Pope Francis is turning belief into practice marks a change not just in tone but of essence.  He calls on us to practice mercy.  He calls on us to live simply and tend to the poor.  This is not just icing on an otherwise fine piece of cake.  The practice of mercy is not just a softer delivery of the same ole, same ole--it is the difference between the playbook and game itself.  This is Good News.