Wednesday, December 24, 2025

"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!

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.”

Sunday, December 21, 2025

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 . . . 


"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!

Wednesday, October 22, 2025

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!

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

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! 

Sunday, August 03, 2025

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! 

Sunday, July 27, 2025

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!

Saturday, May 31, 2025

Carl F. H. Henry and the Call to Love

"No treatment of the virtues our Lord taught is adequate which does not assign first place to love. Love is the fountain of the pure heart and the forgiving spirit." Christian Personal Ethics

"Christian love is only half biblical when it deteriorates into a concern only for the souls of men and is indifferent to the needs of the body. What believer ministers to himself only in this way? It is scarcely biblical at all when it degenerates into a mere humanistic concern for the social side of life to the total neglect of the life of the spirit." Christian Personal Ethics

"No society that disregards ethical finalities can long postpone ignominious collapse." The Christian Mindset in a Secular Society

Carl F. H. Henry

These quotes remind me that the life I have been called to (my "vocation," if you will) is first and foremost calculated and determined by love. If I've been changed by God's love, then my life must start with the love of God for humanity and then culminate in love for neighbor because a of the grace of God. If there is no love of neighbor in me, then there is likely no love of God either.

If I can honestly turn a deaf ear and a hardened heart to the needs (spiritual and physical) of those around me, then I must wonder if my ears and heart have ceased to hear the voice of God or to experience his piercing love and holiness. You see, I cannot love if I have not been loved. John in his first letter says it like this--"We love because he (God) first loved us. If anyone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen."

A story about Mother Teresa expresses it like this--when asked how she could show compassion and love to the "untouchables" in her ministry, she responded, "I love them because I see Jesus in them. I love Jesus more than anything else."

In a strange twist of "love your neighbor as yourself," Mother Teresa seems to be reminding us that lingering in even the lowest of human lives is some part of the image of God. That person bearing the image is the one who I am called to cherish and love. Yes, even if they hate me, I must love them. Respect for human life does not come from an overdeveloped ego or ethic, it comes from recognizing a basic biblical fact--God loves them, so should we.

God does not place a condition on my love for my neighbor. He does not say, "Love him if he becomes Christian." No, I am to love him even if he refuses Christ.

I am to love my neighbor even if I am ridiculed, even if I am cast out, even if I am persecuted and mistreated. I must bless them if I have the love of God in me.

Such a life may not be easy. It may bring many wounds and scars. Anyone who has loved greatly will tell you how difficult a broken heart can be. To love another is to risk brokenness. “To love at all is to be vulnerable,” says C.S. Lewis in the The Four Loves.

Nonetheless, those who follow Jesus are called to a life of love. Such a life will be founded on the twin convictions of God's love and existence. If we find our bedrock in God's person and love, then we will also discover the foundation of finality to ethics. Ethics are based on God's character. What lines with God is right, what does not is wrong. Love cannot be defined simply by subjective experience or opinion. Love must be defined by the very character and person of God as he reveals himself in Jesus the Messiah. Love is what it is. Jesus' life and ministry among humans show true and holy love.

God loves, so God gives (cf. John 3:16). God loves and gives his best--Jesus. This love is given freely even if God receives nothing back for his gift. Read 1 Corinthians 13.

We love because God loved us.

Are we willing to risk the danger of loving others? Are we willing to love as Jesus loves?

Thanks for reading!