Fourth Sunday in Advent: LOVE

 

Photo by Richard Prinsen, December 20/22

 

On this fourth Sunday of Advent, the theme is LOVE.

Have you ever heard someone say "God is a God of love," only to have someone else quickly reply,"But He's also a God of justice"? Or "But He's also a holy God"?

I have. This approach seems to suggest that love is just one of many characteristics God possesses. Sometimes He'll need to emphasize one characteristic more than the other (like a worker choosing one tool over another depending on the task), but we should never lose sight of the other side: "God is loving but just." "God is merciful but also righteous." 

The deeper implication, I think, is that love is kind of flabby and indulgent and must always be balanced by something more strict. If we focus too much on love, the idea goes, we give people the idea that they can do whatever they want without consequences, so we need a corrective of justice or righteousness to keep things under control. Thinking about it, I can honestly say I've never heard anyone say we can swing too far in the direction of God's holiness -- but I've definitely heard that we can swing too far in the direction of His love.

Pastor/teacher Brad Jersak describes love in an entirely different way: it is not one of God's many characteristics, but rather it is God's essence.

God’s nature or essence is simple, boiled down for us in the fourth chapter of John’s epistle: “God is love…” God is not love plus anything. Love is the essence of the Triune nature and every attribute of God is a facet of that one Diamond or flows from that one infinite Spring. Anything we say about God’s holiness, justice or wrath can only be said with reference to God’s love. The “holiness” or “justice” or “wrath” that is not love is not God’s.

- Brad Jersak, "Does God Punish?"

I like this explanation so much (though I can't pretend I completely comprehend it). Love is who God is. These other things are expressions of who God is. 

So we don't need to say "Yes, He's love, but He's also..." But doesn't enter into it. Everything God does expresses who He is: love. Love isn't a weight placed on one side of a scale; rather, as Jersak puts it, the love that God is is more like a diamond with many facets or a spring from which everything else flows.

That means of course that Jesus -- who is "the exact representation of [God's] being" (Heb. 1:3) -- fully embodies that love too. Jesus didn't just do loving things like healing the sick or feeding the hungry or even dying on the cross; Jesus was Love. Jesus is Love.

If that's true, then even the tiny baby wriggling in the manger, in all his vulnerability and innocence, was -- is -- Love. The one whose birth we anticipate and celebrate at Christmas is Love.

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The Risk of Birth
- Madeleine L'Engle

This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out & the sun burns late.

That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honor & truth were trampled to scorn—
Yet here did the Savior make His home.

When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn—
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.

 

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You can read my previous Advent posts here at these links: HOPE, PEACE, JOY.

The opposite of love

 

The other day I tweeted the following:

"Finish the sentence: ONE word only. 'The opposite of love is _________.'" 

Before posting it, I debated whether it was even correct to use the word opposite in relation to love -- should I have said "incompatible with love" or something else instead? But I decided just to keep it simple.

The tweet got close to 100 replies, and BY FAR the most common response was indifference, followed closely by its near-synonym, apathy. This makes a lot of sense. It's impossible to truly love something or someone if you really don't care about them. Love implies a warmth and a sense of personal investment that are lacking in cool, distant indifference. And on a broader scale, apathy and indifference have contributed to many atrocities: assuming someone else will deal with it, not seeing how it affects me, not bothering to learn more ... as one tweeter, Gabe Posey, put it, "Apathy, on judgment day, will probably carry the highest tally for total deaths." That's sobering.

Another very common answer was fear. Some responders who used this word mentioned the well-known Bible passage: "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." (1 John 4:18) It's true that the Bible tells us to fear God -- but I think that kind of fear is more a sense of reverence and awe, not the terror of punishment that John is talking about. If we know we are truly loved no matter what, then we can live freely without fear of that love being suddenly yanked away. 

Another response that appeared several times was control. That one really struck me: is it ever possible to control another person in a loving way? Parents of young children do have to exert a fair amount of control over their children's coming and going, activities, etc. But that kind of control is meant to be temporary and have a specific purpose -- the child's growth and independence. It's not a wielding of power for its own sake or for self-protection.

There were many other words that appeared less frequently but were very striking:

- malice: It's impossible to take pleasure in hurting someone you love.

- pride: I think there can be a good side to pride (there's nothing wrong with taking satisfaction in your achievements), but having an excessively high view of yourself inevitably puts others below you, which isn't consistent with love.

- selfishness: Always putting yourself first makes it awfully difficult to love. (Though I'd distinguish selfishness from self-care, which Parker Palmer calls stewardship of the gift we were put on earth to give: our unique selves.)

- jealousy: Resenting others for what they have and you don't can hinder love.

- neglect: This is in the apathy/indifference camp, I think, and suggests that there's something specific you need to do or pay attention to -- and you just don't do it.

- tolerance: This is an interesting one. It sounds good, but it's actually kind of passive-aggressive: I'm a good person because I let you (or your ideas) exist! That doesn't sound like love.

- dishonesty: Love and truth are so closely linked; how can one exist without the other?

And there were some fun responses, too:

- evol and vole: Thanks for coming out, guys.

- kale. Sigh. There's always one, isn't there.

I'm sorry I haven't listed every single reply; there were a lot! You can read them all here.

Thinking about all these opposites of love gave me a renewed appreciation for what love is. Love is invested. It cares. It is courageous, and it makes others courageous. It frees. It wants only the best. It sees dignity in the other and acts for the good of the other. It enjoys others' joy. It takes responsibility. It accepts. It is truthful.

That sounds like a tall order. It's truly a life's work to love well and to recognize that we ourselves are worthy of love and are loved.

You are loved. You are a person of dignity and worth and you embody, in a unique way, the love that created the world and holds it together. I'm grateful for you.

 

Image: Unsplash

 

 

Five Minute Friday: SACRIFICE

Today I'm linking up with the Five Minute Friday community, writing for five minutes on a given prompt. 

The word this week is SACRIFICE.

free image vectorstock.com

I've been a parent for over 21 years, and I hope I don't sound like I'm looking for a Nobel Prize when I say that parenting involves a lot of sacrifice. Parenting may require us to sacrifice time, privacy, peace and quiet, plans, a clean tidy house ... oh, and sleep. A lot of sleep.

As a child I took very little conscious notice of the sacrifices my parents made for me and my brothers. They weren't passive-aggressive "Why aren't you grateful for all I've done for you!" types, so I never felt the weight of guilt or shame that we kids were preventing them from enjoying the life they might otherwise have had if they hadn't been parents.

We were their life. I know that now. Maybe it's because I'm a parent, or maybe it's just because I've grown up and can see the extent to which they sacrificed in great and small ways for our happiness.

That's what this poem of mine, "On whom his favour rests," tries to capture: the spirit of sacrifice that comes from a heart of love.

On whom his favour rests

We watched from the kitchen window as Dad plunged down

the lane through knee-deep snow, flashlight beam bobbing

ahead, to start the truck. Exhaust plumed round the red

tail lights, and soft snow flurried as he brushed off the hood

and windshield. Afterward, he walked back to the barn to hitch

the horse to the sleigh, then drove it to the door for Mom

and the boys and me to climb on. We sat on bales he’d placed

on the sleigh bottom, and held tight for the lurching ride

down the lane to where the truck sat running. While we waited

in the warm cab, he returned the sleigh to the barn, tied up the horse,

and came back to the truck at last. At the time, we were so impatient:

it was Christmas concert night, and we wanted to be at the church

already, to shrug out of our coats, don angel wings or

shepherd’s robes, and act out the greatest story again. Yet

now what I think of when I recall that night is not my lines

or cues, or even the news of great joy, but the whickering sound

of the horse’s breaths, the creak of wooden shafts on leather harness,

how the stars swung shivering overhead, and how my father

did without complaint all he could to give us those times of wonder

and bring all the peace on earth our hearts could hold.

Merry Christmas 2019

It's almost Christmas, and we want to wish you the very best during your holiday celebrations and in the coming year. Here's a little of what's been going on in our family's life in 2019. 

Jonathan is 17 and in grade 12 at KCVI. He is still really enjoying himself there; he is so eager to get on the bus and happy to greet his teachers, EA, and friends throughout the school. His love for garbage, recycling, brooms, and shovels continues unabated, and he spends many happy hours on his iPad looking at garbage-truck videos. 

Allison is 21 now and continuing her studies at Queen's. After taking 10 online credits, she decided she wanted to take Linguistics, which isn't offered online -- so in September she enrolled in her first on-campus course. It's gone really well and she'll continue with that course in January. She's also continuing to enjoy her study of psychology; she had Clinical Psychology in the fall and will take Developmental Psychology in the winter. We're really proud of her determination and hard work.

Richard is still working at Kingston General Hospital, volunteering, and participating in various sports. In this picture he's completing the Kingston Half-Marathon.

I (Jeannie) have continued with my online course work at Queen's and my own writing. I had a few publications this year:

My poem "Departures" (about the death of my mom) was published in Juniper Poetry. Link here.

I had two pieces published in Fathom Magazine: a short essay called "When the Time to Weep is the Time to Laugh" (link here) and a poem called "interceding" (link here).

My prose poem "Along King Street" was published on the Kingston Public Library's Poetry Blackboard, curated by Kingston Poet Laureate Jason Heroux (link here). 

"Along King Street" was also one of five poems selected as part of Kingston's Vibrant Spaces Project: in August the poem was printed on a railing along Kingston's waterfront.

In other Jeannie news, I stopped colouring my hair this spring and went back to my natural gray/silver colour. I have no regrets: it's nice not to have the hassle of colouring, and there's something really freeing about just letting my true self be seen!

Speaking of seeing, I also had eye surgery in September. I had been struggling for a few years with double vision and was finally able to have it addressed surgically. The operation -- in which the muscles at the inside of both eyes were detached, repositioned, and stitched back up again -- was successful, and although the doubling has not been completely eliminated, I now see perfectly with my glasses. I'm really happy I had it done.

2019 was a challenging year in family terms. Rich's mom fell and broke her ankle in May; she spent almost three months recovering in a convalescent unit and was able to return home in August. My uncle Charlie in PEI (Dad's brother) died in July after a lengthy illness, leaving a huge void in all our lives. And in August Dad had a fall and had to be hospitalized; he stayed in hospital seven weeks and then moved to a nursing home in Charlottetown in early October. (I went into more detail about that in this post). Overall he seems to be adjusting well to his new home. 

All these events remind us that life can change quickly, and there isn't always an instruction manual for how to respond. Sometimes we're called to step up and provide help and support in ways we didn't expect; other times we're the ones needing the help and support. In the end, though, family and relationships are the most important thing in life. Some of us may be missing absent loved ones even in the middle of our joyful holiday celebrations. May we experience peace in these bittersweet days and be strengthened by our memories and our faith. 

God bless all of you in 2020.

 

A review of Kate Motaung's A Place to Land (launching today!)

Today is the launch day for Kate Motaung's memoir A Place to Land: A Story of Longing and Belonging. Kate is the coordinator of our Five Minute Friday community, and I have thoroughly enjoyed reading her memoir.  

In touching prose, Kate writes of her upbringing as a child of divorce in Michigan, her calling to mission work in South Africa, her marriage to a South African man, and her mother's devastating cancer diagnosis. 

Throughout the book, change and challenge constantly stretch Kate's sense of "home." It is heartrending to read of how torn she is as she tries to support her mother from a distance while raising a family and trying to obey God's calling on her life. But as she brings her questions and doubts to God, she is constantly reminded of God's faithfulness despite upheaval and loss, and that her (and our) true home is in God's presence.

The description of her mother's illness and death was the aspect of the book I related most strongly to, having lost my own mom to cancer in 2014 and knowing something of that struggle to provide support -- and to grieve -- at a distance. In an interview, Kate has said, "Writing about my mom’s death [was the most difficult part]. My eyes tear up just thinking about it ... But they were therapeutic tears, and I’m so glad I’ve documented the experience, since the memory does fade. You don’t think you’ll ever forget something like that, but the details do fade."

When asked "Who is this book for?" Kate has said, "Hopefully A Place to Land will resonate with people with a wide variety of experiences and backgrounds, but I think especially for those who are familiar with:
• Divorced parents
• Moving frequently
• Feeling unsettled
• Longing for more
• Dealing with cancer
• Grief
• Loss of a mother (or loved one)
• Living cross-culturally"

I hope you'll consider reading this moving book. (It can be ordered here, by the way.) As Kate describes it, "It is a heavy book, but my prayer is that readers will find it therapeutic to reflect on their own difficult situations (even if it involves tears in the process), and that eventually they will land in a place of hope."

Five Minute Friday: SETTLE

Today I'm linking up with Five Minute Friday, writing for five minutes on a given prompt. This week's word: SETTLE.

Last night I entered the darkened church and settled into a seat. I had arrived a few minutes before our Maundy Thursday service was to begin. There was quiet music playing and a notice on the screen inviting us to sit quietly in preparation for worship.

Images and directions on the screen guided us through the service. At one point a picture of a basin and a towel appeared, and parts of the Scripture passage from John 13 about Jesus washing the disciples' feet were shown: 


Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.  After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”

Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”

Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well.”

Jesus answered, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.” For he knew who was going to betray him, and that was why he said not every one was clean.

When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.  Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.  I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."

 The instructions on the screen directed us to reflect on the passage. As we did so, the sound of water being poured into a basin could be heard over and over and over again. I imagined Jesus pouring water from a jug into a basin, kneeling before one of his friends and washing his feet, then dumping the water out and pouring in fresh water before moving on to the next man. 

Then I imagined Jesus kneeling before me and performing this humble service.

"Maundy" comes from the word "mandate" -- and the washing of the disciples' feet symbolized Jesus' new mandate for his followers. 

Jesus knew that the end was coming; soon he would be arrested, beaten, and crucified. Yet at this moment, his priority was not to strategize with his disciples, or distribute arms and supplies so that they could protect themselves. His priority was to show his disciples what true love is -- and to demonstrate this, he settled on the most menial act of service: washing the hot, sweaty, grubby feet of his friends.

Love is humbly and sacrificially serving others. Even those who might betray or deny us. Even those who already have. 

I can't stop thinking about this: the sound of the water pouring over and over into the bowl, and the realization of Jesus' love being poured out over and over for me -- an ordinary, flawed person, yet one whom He calls friend.

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"On whom his favour rests" - a Christmas poem

I wrote this poem several years ago and revised it recently. Christmas always brings back childhood memories for me; this is just one of many. I hope you enjoy it.

Five Minute Friday: TRY (for my daughter, who is 19 today)

As I do most Fridays, I'm joining the Five Minute Friday linkup to write for five minutes on a given prompt. Today's word is TRY. 

It's my daughter Allison's 19th birthday today, too -- so I've written this for her.

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Is it even worth TRYing to capture who you are in five minutes of writing? 

When people look at you, they see a young woman with long brown hair and big blue eyes -- but that's just the outer you.

You are witty and creative. You love puns and jokes and brain teasers. 

You are an amazing writer. You can convey characters' deepest feelings, yet you can also skillfully structure a choose-your-own adventure story.

You assert your needs, but you also show empathy.

You have embraced your autism and other unique aspects of who you are.

You seek out your tribe in your own way. You don't let what others are doing determine your path.

You are courageous.

You are honest.

You are a beautiful gift from God to this world.

Five Minute Friday: WORTH

Today I'm joining the Five Minute Friday community's linkup, writing for five minutes on a given prompt. This week's word: WORTH.

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In one of his books (I believe it was Shame and Grace), the late author Lewis Smedes wrote about the difference between deserving and worth.

He uses the example of his own mother, who as a widow with several small children worked long, hard hours to provide for her family.

He then asks (and I'm paraphrasing here), "Did I deserve her love and sacrifice?" His answer is no. There was nothing he could have done to earn the things his mother did for him and his siblings.

But then he asks, "Was I worthy of it?" and his answer is yes. It had more to do with who he was -- a beloved son -- than what he could do to make himself deserving.

He uses this example as a parallel of God's love for us. We don't deserve it; but we are worthy of it. It is not a love that requires us to perform or earn. It is based on the fact that God made us in his image and sees us as infinitely valuable. 

We are worthy because of who we are: beloved children of God.

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