Valentine's Day: I Want to Know What Love Is--Love Manifested, 1 John 4:7-12

These notes come from a lesson I taught years ago for a Life Group at Thomas Road Baptist Church. The lesson covered 1 John 4:7-12. The topic seems timely, so I hope it blesses you! 

Introduction

How many of you know the rock group Foreigner? One of their hits was “I Want to Know What Love Is.” I liked the song, but the point I want to make is this—there are lots of people in our world who make the same statement.

People want to know love, they want to experience it, they want to see it. Just look at the movies and social media today. Many of the materials give instructions on finding love and on keeping love in your life. Some items even exemplify romantic love as the goal of human existence. 

I would dare say that love is a dominant theme in many areas. The problem is that the love exemplified in these “sources” rarely offers real satisfaction or any sense of fulfillment. Love in the world often ends in hurt or disappointment. 

Think about a time when you thought you experienced real love. What did it look like? How did you know it was "real" love? 

Our passage in 1 John 4 today addresses the issue of what love looks like. Verses 7-12 offer us John’s view of love, and in them we find three points to consider. 

1. The character of love

2. The definition of love 

3. The result of love

In this chapter, John indicates that “Love resembles Jesus” in the character, action, and empowerment that come from Messiah.

1. The Character of Love 

First John 4:7 reveals that John likes to repeat himself. This is now the third time he has instructed his readers to “love one another.” In 1 John 2:7-11 and 3:11-12 John has already given this command, now he returns to his earlier message.

John's repetition reminds me of a story. A preacher who was hired by a church. On the first Sunday in the church he preached a message entitled “Love One Another.” The congregation was impressed by the sermon, but imagine their surprise when on the second Sunday his title was the same. They were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt until on the third Sunday he preached the same message. They were irate and demanded an explanation. The preacher said, “Well, if you would do this sermon, I’d move on to the next one.”

John may repeat himself in an effort to make sure the point gets across. When John is older, church tradition/history tells us that his message becomes simply “Little children, love one another.” Jerome, in his Commentary on Galatians, 6:10 describes it this way: “The blessed John the Evangelist lived in Ephesus until extreme old age. His disciples could barely carry him to church, and he could not muster the voice to speak many words. During individual gatherings he usually said nothing but, ‘Little children, love one another.’ The disciples and brothers in attendance, annoyed because they always heard the same words, finally said, ‘Teacher, why do you always say this?’ He replied with a line worthy of John: ‘Because it is the Lord's commandment and if it alone is kept, it is sufficient.’”

“Love one another” in John’s mind flows naturally from the basic character of love. John defines the character of love as being tied to the character of God, especially God's character as revealed in the life and ministry of Jesus. 

Notice that John says in v. 7 “love is from God.” The kind of love to which John is encouraging us is not a mere emotion or an expression of human concern. The love mentioned in 1 John 4 usually refers to a divine source, a heavenly origin (cf. 1 Corinthians 13). We don’t learn this kind of love simply by attending seminars, reading books, or trying harder. We learn to love one another in this way only as we draw closer to God through the work of Messiah Jesus in our lives. 

Love’s true character is divine.

Notice that in v. 8 John says, “God is love.” As John Stott says: "This is the most comprehensive and sublime of all the biblical affirmations of God's being."

On the other hand, we must not confuse this with the idea that “love is God.” We do not define God by our view of love. Rather, we define love by God’s nature, by God's character, by God's actions. Remember, being precedes action. Action tends to result from the character of the one acting! 

As a result, we must remember that God’s love includes his holiness—Psalm 138:2 (On Holiness cf. Isaiah 6:3; 1 Peter 1:14-16). God’s character is just and loving. We will see that these two always go together and the next few verses will indicate that. 

So, John tells us we should love one another because of God’s nature or character. John adds that those who know God (i.e., know his character or know him well) will love others as a direct result of knowing God. John’s argument is simple—if the life of God is present is us, then his love should be present as well. If we know God’s love for us, then we should love others. For John, Jesus is the example of God's love (cf. 2 Timothy 1:13; John 8:42; 1 John 2:5-7). 

Love resembles Jesus in his character. To love others is to treat them as Jesus would treat them. 

2. The Definition of Love

In 1 John 4:9-10, John shifts from discussing the character of love to giving the supreme example of love. He defines love for his readers. John describes the manifestation of God’s love and sums it up in one historical event—Jesus’ crucifixion (cf. John 3:16-19). In this one event God revealed a love that has never since been surpassed (2 Cor. 4:6-7; 9:15). This love sacrifices to make things right. This love empowers others to do the right things.

Let’s try to unpack these ideas. 

Love is sacrifice. John says that love was manifested (i.e., made known, made visible, made clear) by God’s act of sending his only Son Jesus into the world. The reference to Jesus as God’s “only begotten” refers to their unique relationship. Only Jesus is God’s “only begotten” Son—it refers to Jesus’ divine status. The Greek word here lends itself to the idea of "only on of its kind." There is no "Son of God" like Jesus is the "Son of God."

Please remember that this sending of Jesus was not simply to tell the world what it needed to hear—(John 3:16-19)—rather God had another thing in mind. Jesus is sent to be the “propitiation” (or "expiation" or "atonement") for our sins—1 John 2:1-2. Jesus was sent for the purpose of reconciliation. Reconciliation recognizes that two groups are estranged—one is angry at the other (Rom. 1:18-19). 

God’s wrath was aimed at humanity because of sin. We were guilty and deserving of death (Romans 6:23). 

Instead of holding us guilty for our own sins, however, God decided to appease his own wrath by his own plan. Jesus took our place and received the just punishment of our sins (Isaiah 53:4-6). Jesus became the atoning sacrifice for our sins. 

 

Do you see in this act the coming together of God’s justice and love? God’s justice demanded holiness and required an ultimate sacrifice for sin, while God’s love provided the only true means to atone for that sin. Love is sacrificial—it does what is necessary to set things right. 

But God’s love is not simply sacrificial, it does not simply “cover a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8). It also gives us what is needed to live love ourselves. In other words, love empowers us to emulate Jesus. God’s love was manifested “in us.” This may mean either “on our behalf” or “in our midst.” The point is that God’s love is manifested in space and time. It is not ethereal, it is real and really experienced. It is not simply theoretical—it is real—it is “in us.”

 

In v. 9 John says that God sent Jesus into the world so that we could “live through him.” Let that sink in for a moment. We who deserved death for our sins are being given life by the one who actually died for the sins of the world! The greatest sign of love is the bloody cross—there by God’s grace and love we lost our burden, our guilt, even our inability to live as God intended—in the cross our Lord died so that we might live through him. What inexpressible love! What an amazing gift!

God’s love is for our benefit—it enlivens us--it is empowering. That is the true definition of love—It sacrifices that others may gain. 

How does our love for others measure up?

Love resembles Jesus in his sacrifice.

3. The Result of Love 

Let's consider 1 John 4:11-12. Now that he has shown the character and definition of love, John now offers a description of the result of love. “If God so loved us” is reminiscent of the “so” in John 3:16 (by the way, that "so" may be better interpreted as "in this way"). It refers to the manner in which God loved us. John says, “If you have received love in this way, you should then love others in a similar manner.” In other words, the way we love should be sacrificial and for the benefit of others—that they may gain God.

This God kind of love also has a moral imperative to it—because God has done this, we “ought” to respond in a similar manner (1 John 2:4-11). 

How and when did God love us?

God loved us when we were sinners (Romans 5:6-8). We cannot understand grace or the love of God until we understand the nature of sin. We will not understand the wonder of the atoning sacrifice until we grasp the horror of that which needed atoning. God loved us by giving a means for us to be reconciled to him—he gave Jesus as our atoning sacrifice  (Romans 3:25; 5:9-11). As already noted, Jesus died so that we could live. God’s love is our motivation to love others.

First John 4:12 is incredible! Here John states a well known doctrine—As a Spirit, God is not visible to the human eye. Yet John seems to claim that when we love one another, God becomes apparent. The verse claims that when we love with the love God has given us in Christ, then God abides in us and his love is “perfected” (i.e., made complete, accomplished, finished, brought to its goal) in us. Our relationships of love become the place where God and his love become visible to others.

When we love, we show God to others.

 

Love resembles Jesus as we make him known by loving others.

Application 

This is a weighty thing—how are we to be “ambassadors of Christ” (2 Cor. 5:20-21) when we are still fallen and prone to let God down? How can we claim to know God when we cannot love those closest to us? How do we respond to John’s exhortation in these verses?

First, we must recognize our need to experience and live in God’s great grace and love—knowing God through Messiah Jesus is the starting point. Remember that John says that loving others comes from loving God. This week make it a point to spend extra time with the God who loves you. Take about 15 minutes a day to look up verses that speak of God’s love (start in 1 John 2, 3, and 4, but don’t neglect John’s Gospel—chapters 3, 5, 13-15)—learn of his love. Ask God to empower you to emulate his love. 

Next, take some time to ask where you can share this love of God. Start with your brothers and sisters in Christ, but don’t neglect those outside of the household of the faith. Look for opportunities to tell others how God’s love has changed your life, just be sure to love them while you tell them.  

Here are some suggestions:

Seek for ways to get beyond feelings of competition.

Speak of others with honor instead of gossiping about or enjoying their shortcomings, struggles, or inconsistencies.

Rally to the side of those who are hurt or experiencing injustice—offer them a word of encouragement or stand with them in prayer.

Look for opportunities to help those who can’t help you back—give sacrificially into the life of one who  may not pay you back.

Extend forgiveness to those who offend.

Be patient with someone  who desperately needs it.

Be quick to show hospitality to others.

Be willing to pray for and with each other.

Share the story of Jesus with someone.

Bake cookies for someone who is down and write them a note of encouragement.

Remember, John's main point is simply this: Love resembles Jesus.

How are we doing?

Thanks for reading! 

"Bells Across the Snow" by Francis Ridley Havergal

This poem is especially pertinent this Christmas as I remember the loved ones gone before us, particularly my mom and dad among many others. The memories of Christmases past are wonderful solace, and the promise of a glorious Christmas future reminds me to find the joy of Christmas present in the wonderful Incarnation of God in Jesus of Nazareth, Immanuel. May you all have a blessed Christmas!

BELLS ACROSS THE SNOW

O Christmas, merry Christmas,

Is it really come again,

With its memories and greetings,

With its joy and with its pain!

There’s a minor in the carol

And a shadow in the light,

And a spray of cypress twining

With the holly wreath tonight.

And the hush is never broken

By laughter light and low,

As we listen in the starlight

To the “bells across the snow.”

O Christmas, merry Christmas,

’Tis not so very long

Since other voices blended

With the carol and the song!

If we could but hear them singing,

As they are singing now,

If we could but see the radiance

Of the crown on each dear brow,

There would be no sigh to smother,

No hidden tear to flow,

As we listen in the starlight

To the “bells across the snow.”

O Christmas, merry Christmas,

This never more can be;

We cannot bring again the days

Of our unshadowed glee,

But Christmas, happy Christmas,

Sweet herald, of good will,

With holy songs of glory

Brings holy gladness still.

For peace and hope may brighten,

And patient love may glow,

As we listen in the starlight

To the “bells across the snow.”

—Frances Ridley Havergal

Lettie B. Cowman, Streams in the Desert (Los Angeles, CA: The Oriental Missionary Society, 1925), 369.

Advent 2025: Have Yourself a Humble Little Christmas--The Gift of No Reputation

A few years ago I posted a little meditation on Christmas, and as I read through it today I realized that I needed to hear it again. It is easy in our society today to be a bit too full of ourselves, to think a bit more highly of ourselves than we ought, . . . but I am quickly coming to the conclusion that that is not the Spirit of Christmas, and it certainly was NOT the Spirit of Christ. Bear with me, if you will, while I contemplate what it means to have no reputation as a follower of Messiah. May we have ourselves a humble little Christmas . . . 

Philippians 2:5-8 HCSB

"Make your own attitude that of Messiah Jesus, who, existing in the form of God, did not consider equality with God as something to be used for His own advantage. Instead He emptied Himself by assuming the form of a slave, taking on the likeness of men. And when He had come as a man in His external form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death--even to death on a cross."

This passage may not usually be associated with Christmas, but it describes in a straightforward manner the Incarnation of God in Jesus the Messiah. Look closely at the passage above, then read the quote from The Jesus Style by Gayle D. Erwin below.

“Christ Jesus . . . made himself nothing.

 “He made himself nothing, he emptied himself—-the great kenosis. He made himself no reputation, no image.

 “I can recall my father shaking his head and repeating over and over to himself, ‘If only I knew what this meant. There is something powerful here. If I only understood it.’ Maybe that is why this Scripture has glued itself to my mind and equally disturbs me. Reputation is so important to me. I want to be seen with the right people, remembered in the right light, advertised with my name spelled right, live in the right neighborhood, drive the right kind of car, wear the right kind of clothing. But Jesus made himself of no reputation.”

Christmas means lots of things to lots of different people.

For some it becomes a political event that pits “the true meaning of Christmas” against a bias towards religion. For others Christmas is just another time to visit families and to pretend to get along with each other. For others Christmas is a season that involves incredible profits (or expenses) and lots of activities. For still others Christmas is simply a winter break, a time to regroup for a new year.

I know I’ve left some groups out in that all-too-brief description! One group is comprised of those who see Christmas as the celebration of the birth of the world’s Savior and the Incarnation of God. I want to twist the prism a bit and look at Christmas from a slightly different angle.

Almost all of the views above look at Christmas from the perspective of what humans gain from the season. I wonder if we can look at the season as something we can offer to others, a "gift" of sorts. I wonder, can we make a gift of Christmas? Can we this year find a way to give the "spirit" of Christmas to those around us?

Hear me out . . .

This passage from Philippians reminds me that Christmas for Jesus wasn’t about what he would gain.  In fact, he lost just about everything! He left the comfort of his Father’s place; he became a tottering, dribbling little baby; he had to learn to talk, to walk, to eat; he left his riches behind for the starkness of a feeding trough; and ultimately he would even take on the sin of and die for humanity even though he was innocent. Remember, "dead" and "sin" were two things the Son of God had not experienced before in his eternal existence. 

As Paul says, he made himself of no reputation.

Imagine what Christmas would be like this year if those of us who follow Jesus would do as Paul admonishes here and have this approach to the season. Imagine if we actually attempted to have the same attitude towards others that Jesus has towards us! What would Christmas look like if we didn’t care about what we got out of it but became more concerned about what we could give to others? How would our world change if we laid down our lives . . . our reputations . . . our desires in order to bless others this Christmas? What if we even went further and did it anonymously, with no expectation of reward or recognition?

Ronald Reagan (among others) is credited with saying something like: “There is no telling what you can accomplish if you don’t care who gets the credit.” 

We don’t like that approach though, do we? We kick against it! I mean, we deserve to be recognized, don’t we? 

All too often, we are full of "I" problems as we drone on and on about individual accomplishments or seek after individual acclaim for our actions. "I did this" and "I did that" and "Look at me" often occupy too much of our focus. Like toddlers, often we just want to be noticed, don't we?

We came up with the idea that made the company money, shouldn’t we be rewarded? Maybe we found a problem and fixed it, and that fix saved someone’s job. Shouldn’t we be shown gratitude? Maybe we did some kindness for someone we knew couldn’t pay us back, . . . shouldn’t we get credit for that? We gave that money to charity, shouldn't someone say "thank you"? We gave of our time to that charitable organization, shouldn't there be some "benefit" in it for us?

Don’t we all think that we should be center stage. . . center of the world. . . the most important person in the world? How many times have we heard “I quit going to that church because MY needs weren’t being met”?

No reputation.

Let that sink in.

NO Reputation!

No fame, no credit, no automatic acceptance, no celebrities, and no place where who you are or what you know earns you admittance or recognition. That requires true humility!

Jesus made himself of no reputation; he humbled himself. The very God of the universe became nobody. He emptied himself, he became a servant. As Isaiah said, he was not handsome or attractive in such a way as to draw attention to himself. He lived to give attention only to God. 

Jesus was truly humble.  He had "no reputation."   

Ouch!

We love our awards, the acceptance of others, the glamour of being “somebody,” or the wonderful happiness of fame, don’t we? We like to be recognized, remembered, acknowledged, accepted, and celebrated.

“Don’t neglect me” or "It's all about me" could be slogans of our world.

The motto of Jesus followers should be “No reputation.” God chooses such people to further his agenda. Will we be involved, or do we like our perks too much?

In Job 1, Satan appears in God's court. God acknowledges the good job done by Job, and asks Satan if he has noticed what a righteous person Job has become. Satan's response is a tough challenge: "Does Job fear God for nothing?"

Think about what the evil one is implying here. He is asking, "Will a human serve God with no expectation of something in return?"

Will humans serve God for nothing?

That hurts, doesn't it? Even the mere thought of it as a possibility smarts a bit. Surely the mighty God of the universe wouldn't expect us to show him respect and serve his purposes without expectation of payment for services rendered, right?

Can we humble ourselves to the point where we realize that God owes us nothing? Quite literally, we have done nothing to merit a reward from him. Even our service is a response to his continued mercy.

Will we, like Messiah, humble ourselves to the point of no reputation? Are we willing to be "nobodies" in God's service, among his people, even among those who ought to "recognize" us?

What would Christmas look like this year if we (all of us) decided to give with no expectation of return? What if we humbled ourselves and expected no acknowledgment? What if we chose to serve anonymously and to bless others without receiving a blessing in return? What would happen?

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer says in God is in the Manger: 

“Who among us will celebrate Christmas correctly? Whoever finally lays down all power, all honor, all reputation, all vanity, all arrogance, all individualism beside the manger; whoever remains lowly and lets God alone be high; whoever looks at the child in the manger and sees the glory of God precisely in his lowliness.”

Tish Harrison Warren reminds us further:

"Christ's ordinary years are part of our redemption story. Because of the incarnation and those long, unrecorded years of Jesus' life, our small, normal lives matter. If Christ was a carpenter, all of us who are in Christ find that our work is sanctified and made holy. If Christ spent time in obscurity, then there is infinite worth found in obscurity...There is no task too small or too routine to reflect God's glory and worth."

What can you do this Christmas season that will bless others and produce no reputation for you? Who can you serve that can't repay you? This year let's commit ourselves to serving, giving, and loving as Christ did. Let's look for opportunities to bless others in a way that does not give us recognition.  Instead of asking for things for ourselves, let's give to the needs of others. Instead of expecting gifts, let's give our lives away in blessing others.

How would that change Christmas in your neighborhood? Are you willing to try? 

Thanks for reading!

God's Irresistible Stare: Kansas' "A Glimpse of Home"

For those of you too young to remember the classic rock group Kansas, let me just say that their music defined my generation during our high school years as much as any 70s to 80s rock band. Their songs were majestic in scope and tenor, they were classic tales sung to the tune of an amazing mixture of heavy rock and roll, church organs, and violins. In some ways (to me at least), they were the U2 of my generation. Here is a song that I love from a 1979 album. Kerry Livgren wrote the song. It is entitled "A Glimpse of Home." Here are the lyrics:

When I was very young so many songs were sung
So much wasted time on an uphill climb
But you where always there, a feeling in the air
There was nothing to fear you were so near
Now you are here once again
As I stand in your presence
I can feel the quiet patience of your gaze
Like an old superstition
You are haunting all my dreams and waking days

(Chorus)
All my life I knew you were waiting, revelation anticipating
All is well, the search is over, let the truth be known
Let it be shown (give me a glimpse of home)

There's no resisting you among the chosen few
It's hard to be sure, it's hard to endure
And when I hear your voice
I know I have the choice
To pursue an ideal, something so real
Now I've got nothing to lose
As I see your reflection
All the answers I desire become so clear
Like a page that is turning
I can look into the future without fear

(Chorus)

You're in my rock and roll, you're in my very soul
Though it's heavy to bear, it's a feeling so rare
And it's a mystery, the way it's meant to be
Can we ever know, we're moving so slow
There ain't enough time in the world
As I reach up the ladder
There is something ever higher to perceive
Like a fire that is burning
In my heart I know I surely must believe

(Chorus)

As a young Christian looking for a music to define his spiritual journey, this song became a kind of "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" milestone for me. I can't be sure, but when I heard the lyrics above, I had the distinct impression that Livgren was talking about God/Jesus.

You see, though raised in a good Baptist home and church, I had in my youth become something of a doubter and skeptic. I tried to find reasons to ignore or overlook the Divine in what was around me, and I often came up with my own explanations as to why things happened as they did. 

Yet even in my most skeptical moments, Jesus was there, "like an old superstition," haunting my days and my dreams. His shadow and presence often invaded my situations. Like an uninvited guest, he just showed up when I least expected (or wanted) him. He was unavoidable. 

I couldn't shake this reality, this presence. I couldn't shake him.

His patience and merciful stare seemed to follow me on matter where I went. His benevolent hand of mercy shielded me, protected me, even promoted me without my request. He was there, even when I didn't acknowledge his kind presence or his uninvited invasion. 

He was there, a "revelation anticipating" my gaze, my faith. Haunting my life, Jesus continued to pursue me, to persist in watching over and even sheltering me.

One day I surrendered. Realizing that I was surrounded and enveloped by God, I gave in. I said, "Enough! I can't shake you, so I'll join you. Let's do it your way."

He kindly let me in. He also let me think it was my idea (grin).

This song defined that moment for me--the moment when I came face-to-face with God. He didn't blink. He opened his arms. He hugged me. He accepted me. He wanted me. He took me as I was. He chased me until I "caught" him . . . 

His love has overwhelmed me ever since.

My search is over, I have found home. It is in the loving gaze of Jesus. God's irresistible stare has become my place of comfort . . . I am his. I am home. 

I love this song. Thank God for music!

Thanks for reading!

A Repost: Unraveled, Undone, In His Presence

 The meditation below was written originally almost 20 years ago. The sentiment and the experience are still the same, but the circumstances have changed a bit.

You see, I am now in my 60s and realizing my own mortality. I am firmly on the downward side of my quest to live for 100 years. The very thought that I have lived more than 6 decades has given me pause. For some of my readers 60 seems pretty old, perhaps for others it seems a bit young. All I know is that it has caused me to pause and to reflect on my life.

I am a words of affirmation kind of person, and as such I love to give encouragement to others (and to receive it too!). On the other hand, there are those times where I feel incredibly unnoticed and irrelevant and even melancholy in some ways. Today has (kind of) been one of those days. I feel like my day has started with me already running behind in lots of things. I had a hard time finding a parking space, and then I didn't have as much time to prepare for classes as usual. Things just seemed rushed or incomplete in some way. So, as I contemplated my situation, the post below kind of summed up my mood. I thought I'd post it for that reason (and maybe it will encourage some of you).

As you stand before God undone today, as you unravel in his presence, cling tightly to the promise that he has given--"I will never leave you nor forsake you." Stand or sit before Jesus and just let your life pause before him for a moment. Join me and come undone. Let's unravel in his presence. I hope you enjoy this little meditation from 2008:

Today as I drove to work, I couldn't help a bit of melancholy.

The weather was wet, traffic was light, the music was breezy, the mountains were august, the sun brilliant, . . . and I was melancholy.

As I drove I began to think of Abraham, Moses, and Isaiah for some reason. Each of these individuals had an amazing encounter with God. Abraham (while still "Abram") encountered the God of covenants. During a dream at night terrors seized Abram as he saw the torch of God move between the divided carcasses of the animal sacrifices. Abram was undone.

Moses encountered God first as an enigma. Moses saw a bush that was on fire and yet not burning. He went closer, he heard God, he took off his shoes. He was undone, his life would never be the same.

Isaiah lost a friend and a hero. When King Uzziah died, Isaiah wept and went into deep mourning. During his depression, Isaiah had a vision. Angels flew about, the holiness and awesomeness of God shook the foundation and pillars of the Temple. 

God spoke, Isaiah trembled.

When Isaiah dared to speak in this holy company, the words out of his mouth were "Woe is me, I am undone!"

As I understand it, the Hebrew here has the meaning of being unzipped from the belly to the neck so that your insides spill out.

Okay, maybe I'm stretching it a bit, but it was not a happy thought for Isaiah. He felt unraveled in the presence of God.

That kind of describes my melancholy today . . . I feel unraveled. Like a ball of yarn that has lost its consistency, I am loose and dangly.

Like a sweater pulled apart thread-by-thread, I am undone.

I look at the majesty around me, the beauty and holiness and awe-fulness of it all, and I find myself undone.

It is not a bad feeling necessarily, but it can be a bit unnerving.

I feel unraveled.

Like a joke with no punch line, or a sitcom with no laugh track, or a book with no thesis or direction, or a story with no meaning . . .

I feel undone.

How do I explain what is happening in my heart when words seem hard to find?

Life is good, things seem to be fine, but I feel . . . well, what?

I think that this is a normal human emotion, and it is one I've encountered before. I'm not depressed; in fact, I'm not really sad at all! I'm actually smiling as I type these words!

I sit here in the midst of an amazing band of people, activities, and stuff, and I feel a bit unraveled.

Maybe I'm just relaxing . . . loosening things a bit in preparation for the next battle or the next activity or the next thing.

Maybe it is a "Selah," a sort of pause of spirit that causes me to reflect a bit.

It is a good thing, I think, to be unraveled before God and his wonderful creation.

So, like Paul, I will relish in my unraveling, in my undoing, in my weakness . . . for when I am weak, God is strong. When I am undone, God still does. When I am unraveled, Jesus holds all things together.

I smile, I sigh. I listen to U2 and Larry Norman and Bob Dylan.

I will go find some Jonny Lang or Switchfoot. I will relish in the tones, in the thoughts, in the music. I will unravel before God and just be. I will let myself be undone so that he can renew me.

What a wonderful life!

Thanks for reading! 

A Search for a Haven: "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"

I was listening to U2 recently, and their song "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" began to play. The song is a bit forlorn, and you can here in Bono's voice a longing for something--a place, a haven, a connection, maybe even a person. As the song traverses several options that the Singer has tasted, the chorus keeps coming back to the title: "I still haven't found what I'm longing for." What haunts me about the song is the lack of resolution, to be honest. As a Christian educator and minister, I like to think that I've found whatever the singer is seeking. But have I really? Here are the lyrics to the song: 

"I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"

I have climbed the highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you

I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire

I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone

But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for

I believe in the Kingdom Come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
But yes, I'm still running

You broke the bonds and you loosed the chains
Carried the cross of my shame
Of my shame
You know I believe it

But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for
But I still haven't found
What I'm looking for 

I remember reading somewhere that this song was inspired by King David and the Psalms (and perhaps a poet Bono was reading). The subject for which the artist is searching is left unsaid, or perhaps better, unfound. We have no description of what would satisfy this longing to find what is being sought . . . but we hear the single minded laser focus and incredible longing of the one seeking. 

Perhaps the Christian imagery and the "You" of the last verse gives us an idea, but if so the singer refuses to tell us. He is still searching. 

I'll be honest, I have found in Jesus a respite, a place, even room to belong and to be myself. And yet, there are still times of longing, of searching, of dreaming, of reaching . . . what exactly is it I want? What do I need? 

Maybe I can borrow from another singer and song? Tonio K sings that "You Will Go Free" (you can hear the song here: You Will Go Free). Towards the end of the song, our artist sings the following Bridge and Verse 3:

You can't see your jailer
You can't see the bars
You can't turn your head around fast enough
But it's everywhere you are
It's all around you
Everywhere you walk these prison walls surround you

But in the midst of all this darkness
In the middle of this night
I see the truth cut through this curtain like a laser
Like a pure and holy light
And I know I can't touch you now
Yeah, and I don't want to speak too soon
But when we get sprung from out these cages baby
God knows what we might do

The song addresses the angst of a person who has come to realize that his or her situation is caged in by a variety of less than good situations: bad choices, the devil himself, sin, etc. But the hopefulness of the final verse always gets me. "Truth" will "cut through this curtain like a laser." We humans will one day realize freedom, the kind that only God's Truth can ultimately bring us. The kind of haven or freedom so desired by Bono above. 

But there is a catch (isn't there always?). We don't get to the "truth" without living life and having experiences that take our breath away (in both good and bad ways). Even if we know Jesus, and even if we understand that he is "what I'm looking for," we realize that in this particular time and this particular age and this particular life there is still something lacking, something missing, something we are looking for or longing for but which we still haven't found. 

You understand, right? You've found something wonderful, something that overwhelms you in a good way . . . and yet there is still darkness . . . there is still a longing for freedom . . . a longing to breathe . . . a longing to be free, to be TRULY and IRREVOCABLY free to be who we were created to be. 

We want to be REAL, to be AUTHENTIC. Like the Velveteen Rabbit, we may have experienced rejection and hard times, and we may have embraced kindness and acceptance . . . and yet, and yet, . . . we also know we aren't quite REAL.

I think that this is a common human reality, and I've come to realize that living in this world I will continue to find darkness and light, hatred and love, rejection and acceptance, death and life, . . . and maybe I'll face one of them more than the others. 

Maybe you understand, you're in the darkest hole you've ever experienced, . . . and yet there seems to be a pin point of light exposing the darkness. Or maybe your situation is all good . . . and yet nibbling around the edges of your subconscious is the idea that it is not quite THE GOOD that you really want (or worse, really NEED).

I've lived those realities. I've known love that brought tears to my eyes, that made me think life couldn't be better. I've also known loss that made me think I'd lose my soul . . . the darkness was so deep I couldn't see how life could ever happen again. I still hadn't found what I was looking for . . .  

I wish I had answers, but I only have a story. I am convinced that one day the laser light of Truth will indeed shine and humanity will experience a change. At that time we will see Jesus as he is, and what we see will either terrify or bless us . . . 

Someday we will be REAL. Unfortunately that REALNESS will be a blessing to some and a curse to others. Here's why I say that: the Light of God's Truth is Jesus. When he returns, those of us who know him and are in him will become in some sense as he is. Those who are not, well, let's just leave that sad story alone for the moment. I don't know if I can comprehend the darkness of that existence. 

You see, the goal is to be WITH GOD. Tonio K sings in "You Belong With Me": 

Now you live in your world and I live in mine
But the collision of worlds is just a matter of time
'Cause you belong with me

The song is one of longing and love, but I've come to understand it as God singing to humanity. We belong to him, and one day our worlds will collide. One day we will see him. At that point, things will make a lot more sense. 

I don't have easy answers. I know that I will experience light and dark before I see him as he is. I also know that I will only be REAL when he makes it so. 

We are searching for a haven, a place to belong, someone to LOVE us and find worth in us. We can experience snippets of it in this life, but we will still long for what we know we want: to be REAL.

Even so, Lord Jesus, come. 

Thanks for reading! 

Who are "the Least of These"?

 Recently I've been pondering the story of "the Sheep and the  Goats" as presented in Matthew 25:31-46. These verses have been highlighted in a post making its rounds in which a pastor dresses up as a homeless man and visits his church just before he is introduced as the pastor. The post makes a powerful message, but I think it may overlook a few things. As I have thought about the "least of these" (Matt. 25:45) in my own life, I realized that these individuals often aren't as obvious as this pastor's disguise. With that in mind, I offer the following note from "the least of these" as I imagine they would write to me.

Hello:

I saw you today. You were talking to your usual group of friends, and I came over to see if I could join the conversation. Someone finally acknowledged me and asked how I was doing. After an attempt to be transparent and honest, I received a series of responses that essentially told me how the situation was really my problem and of no real concern to those involved in the conversation. I got it. You speak of honesty and transparency, but you don't really want it. You want to continue your discussions with no real light on what is going on in your life. Fine, I got the message. I'll fade back into the crowd.

I was in church today too. You probably didn't notice me because I look like I fit in, but usually I don't. I sometimes sit alone, but I can be surrounded by people and still be alone. I've come to your church several times, but I haven't really met anyone here yet. I am a bit introverted, and I have a hard time coming out of my shell to meet folks. During the "meet and greet" time, I tend to be a bit invisible. I want to be a part, but the pain of my life and my mistakes keeps me at arm's length, afraid to introduce myself for fear of being rejected. I know, it is probably my fault. Sorry to bother you, I'll fade back into the crowd.

I was there too. I hung out with my normal crowd, I sang enthusiastically, and I even tried to greet folks around me. I have a secret though, and I'm sure if you knew it you wouldn't accept me either. It isn't anything illegal, but it is a bit embarrassing. So, I'll put on my mask and pretend things are great. Some folks will probe a bit, and I'll start to share my story. They usually refer me to a counselor, and then they will avoid me for awhile. I guess they don't want my problem to infect them. I'll just fade back into the crowd.

I came to church today. My kids acted up a bit. I could feel the stares and disapproval of folks around me. I tried to get my baby to be quiet, and I know it was a disruption. I simply need to be surrounded with adults (preferably Christian ones), and I thought that church would be the place. Maybe when my kids are older and won't disrupt the  service, then I'll come back. I'm sorry to interrupt, I'll just fade back into the crowd.

I was there. I'm the guy who sometimes says the wrong thing at the wrong time. I can be a bit of a bother too. I know it, but I'm not proud of it. I try so hard to fit in that I often run my mouth and say inappropriate things. I know it bothers you, I can see it in your eyes. You think I'm arrogant, or you think I'm clueless. I'm not, but I am wounded. I respond by being boisterous, but I see now that my actions will lead to rejection. I'll fade back into the crowd.

I think you get my point. The "least of these" is not always the most obvious person in the crowd. Sometimes the "least of these" is simply the person who rubs us the wrong way or the one who reminds us too much of ourselves. We avoid them in hopes of avoiding the mess we perceive them to be (and perhaps to avoid the mess of who we really are--if we are honest). I am guilty myself. I can't deny it. I have not treated people as Jesus would desire. I confess, and, with God's help, I repent.

May we all take the words of Christ more seriously. Inasmuch as we do it to the "least of these," we have done it to Jesus himself. How would we treat Jesus?

For more challenge, read James 2:1-10. 

Thanks for reading!