Perfect Valentine

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, 

“Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”

“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

--John 21:15

It has been "one of those mornings." I opened up my email, began my daily ritual of quiet and devotional time, and it begins. A theme emerges, a common thread that begs to be written about.

Sunday I led worship for the first time since last summer. My passage was the transfiguration (Luke 9:28-36), and even in preparing that sermon, it was beginning. 

But then this morning, first it's Fr. Richard Rohr, then Gordon Crosby, Sally Dyck, and John Ortberg, George MacLeod-- even the conservative devotional Today in the Word all carried this common theme of unconditional love, of seeing the Imago Dei in each person we meet.

So rather than soldier along on my own, feeling the poke of the sharp stick of conviction that I have work to do in this area-- I decided to see if anyone else needs poking.

Fr. Rohr writes of the experience of the "full body-blow" of God's love, and how we are never the same after such an experience. And he also writes of how we try to love God as we are loved-- but we are incapable of doing so. 

But we are capable of loving one another with a love that can forever change the life of another person, and it may be as simple as affirming their identity as a beloved child of God.

UM Bishop Sally Dyck recounts the experience of Sister Helen Prejean as she worked with a man on death row. 

As she sat with him right before his execution, Sister Helen had no words. What could she possibly say at this moment? Then she heard herself saying, "You are a child of God."

And the inmate replied that he had been called many things, but had never been called a child of God.

Never.

No one had ever looked into the eyes of this man long enough or deep enough to affirm the image of God in this fellow traveller-- until his final hours.

And then there was Crosby writing about unconditional love, and MacLeod's discussion of the mystics who loved the world, not by depriving themselves, but by dedicating themselves to serving the world and relieving the suffering of others.

We just never know, do we? We never know who might need a smile, or a quarter for the parking meter, or a shoulder to lean against. And we never know when we might be the one in need.

Love God, love one another as we are loved by God. Sound familiar?

Jesus asks the toughest-- yet simplest-- questions.

"Who do you say that I am?" 

"Why are you afraid?"

"Do you believe I can heal you?"

"Do you love me?"

Now, I suspect that even the non-seminarians among us have heard that when Jesus asked Peter about love, and when Peter responded, in the Greek it was two different kinds of love. Jesus asked for agape, unconditional love, and the best Peter could offer in return was philao, the love a brother has for his brother (or sister). 

The third time the question is posed, Jesus meets Peter where he is, and rather than asking for Peter's unconditional love, instead Jesus asks Peter if he will love Jesus like a brother. Philao.

And that may be the best we can do. 

But if we can truly love one another as brothers and sisters, it just may be enough.

If we can view one another as members of one Divine family, if we can view one another through the eyes of that Father, and love one another accordingly, and treat one another as we would like to be treated ourselves-- it begins to look more and more like agape and philao are not so far apart, after all.

The final "poke" this week came from John Ortberg, from the final chapter of his book God is Closer than You Think. He offers a six-word prayer that could lead to the transformation of the world. Here it is:

Make up there come down here. 

Kind of a shorter, sweeter version of the way Jesus taught his disciples (us) to pray: "Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

Think about it.

Jesus saw people in need of healing-- and he brought the power of heaven to bear in this world and they were healed.

Jesus saw thousands and thousands of hungry people, and he invoked the grace of God-- and they were fed, their bodies and spirits filled to satisfaction.

Jesus saw his friend Peter step out boldly in faith-- and falter and fall, and as Peter cried out to the Lord, Jesus lifted him from the raging waters and saved him. The seas became calm when the Lord so commanded them.

And oh, my, yes-- it was good. And it is good.

Making up there come down here, one fellow traveller at a time.

Seeing a young mother in line at Wal-Mart come up a few dollars short when trying to buy food for her family-- and offering to make up the difference.

Watching a child lose balance on that new bicycle and take a tumble-- and stopping to offer comfort, reassurance, a tissue-- and love. 

Whispering in the ear of a dying loved one that she, too, is a beloved child of God. 

Lent is upon us. So many people give something up during Lent, whether it's chocolate or cigarettes or television. But this year, I would ask you to consider adding something rather than-- or along with-- giving something up.

If you give up chocolate, calculate how much you would have spent otherwise and donate that amount to a charitable organization such as charity:water or a local food kitchen.

If you give up something that occupies your time, such as television or Facebook, spend a similar amount of time helping sort clothing at a clothing bank. Or spend that time in prayer and contemplation, and allow God to reveal where your hands and heart are needed.

Then stand back and watch up there come down here, right before your eyes.

Lord God, make up there come down here. And please-- show me how I can help. Amen.

* * * * *

Ortberg, John. God is Closer Than You Think. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005.