Good afternoon, dear friends.
For many reasons, I have been thinking constantly about love’s sacrifice. It is perfect that tonight our study takes us through the high calling love truly is on our lives. Love is patient. Love is kind.
Can you do it? Will you?
Last Wednesday, we celebrated Passover. We were reminded of God’s gracious hand through the ages. There’s this beautiful part of the Seder that follows the telling of the exodus:
Leader: God has shown us so many acts of kindness and grace. For each one, we say dayeinu (which means, “it would have been enough”). If only the Lord God had taken us out of Egypt . . .
People: Dayeinu! (It would have been enough!)
Leader: If only the Lord God had taken us out of Egypt and not passed judgment on the Egyptians . . .
People: Dayeinu!
Leader: If only the Lord God had passed judgment on the Egyptians and not parted the sea for us . . .
People: Dayeinu!
Leader: If only the Lord God had parted the sea for us and not taken care of us and fed us manna in the desert for 40 years. . .
People: Dayeinu!
Leader: If only the Lord God had taken care of us and fed us manna in the desert for 40 years and not given us the Sabbath rest . . .
People: Dayeinu!
Leader: If only the Lord God had given us the Sabbath rest and not brought us to Mount Sinai and given us the Torah . . .
People: Dayeinu!
Leader: If only the Lord God had brought us to Mount Sinai and given us the Torah and not brought us into the land of Israel. . .
People: Dayeinu!
Leader: For all these, alone and together, we say . . .
People: Dayeinu!]
God’s grace has long been upon His people. And His love – perfect and unending and pure – is the ultimate example of sacrificial love. God saved the Hebrews from Pharoah, knowing that later they’d whine, complain, abandon Him, and choose other lovers. Unsatisfied with burning bushes and pillars of smoke, with prophets and priests, they’d ask for someone else.
Tonight, we discuss love being both patient and kind. And this week’s Easter celebration of reconciliation with the Lord proves to us that God is perfectly, unwaveringly both of these things. The picture below is one that always reminds me of these things. I took it Santuario de Chimayo. Every year, hundreds of people walk to this tiny church on Good Friday. They walk to identify with Christ. They nail their tiny crosses to an old tree behind the church. They sit on stone pews and offer prayers. They give thanks. They know His sacrifice, His patience, His kindness.
His patience enabled Him to take every lash of the whip, every insult, every nail for us. He “suffered long” on our behalf, for the glory of God and the sanctification of God’s enemies, His estranged sons and daughters.
I spent much of my weekend thinking about the kindness of the Lord. I told Joy today that I think patience is taking a punch without retribution but kindness is washing the feet of the person who hit you.
On that Passover night nearly 2,000 years ago, Christ our Lord washed the feet of a dozen men in a tiny upper room. It’s easy for me to picture these men, embarrassed and uncomfortable, grateful and moved at the sight of their kneeling Lord. But what is more difficult for me to wrap my brain around is knowing that Christ also washed the feet of Peter, knowing full well that the man would betray him again and again later that night. He washed the feet of Judas, the man He knew would sell him for a sack of silver.
Again and again, God is gracious. Again and again, He is patient. Again and again, the Lord is kind. He can’t not be these things. He’s not only washed our feet, but he’s cleansed our whole being, knowing that we’d betray His love time after time.
And he’s asking us to be the same, yet not by our own might. He’s given us the Holy Spirit, who is the fullness of kindness and patience, to dwell within us.
So I wonder: Why is this calling so hard? Why do we not wash the feet of our enemies and seek out good for them, if that is what He Himself has done for us? He has saved us from that which enslaves us; as He saved His people from Pharoah, so also has He saved us from death and sin and agony. Not because we are so darn lovable and deserve it, and not because anybody had a right to be saved, but because this is who He is: He is Love, full of patience, full of kindness. He is love in all its forms, be it noun, verb or adjective.
And He’s asked us to be the same, knowing that we are His body, the tangible representation of Himself to the whole world. He knows what He’s asking; He knows that we are asked, as Christ was, to endure much from people who betray us, who smite us, who hurt us, who don’t “get” us, who stop loving us back. But He’s given us Himself, He’s given us the power, He’s given us the way to do it.
The will is all that’s up to us. The desire to, like Him, be love to the world, to our neighbors, to our families and friends.
So, I ask again: Can you do it? Will you?
