I’m not sure why grade-school romance is on my mind this week (see yesterday’s post), but I was thinking this morning about my first “date.” I’m not sure you can really call it that, seeing as I was probably 11, but it is the first time I remember sitting next to a girl at a movie theater. I can’t recall what the movie was, but a group of my friends met a group of her friends and Dee Ann and I ended up sitting next to one another. Whatever it’s called when two 5th graders Kind Of Like Each Other, that’s what we were going through and all eyes were on us to see if we were going to do anything about it. I probably don’t remember the movie because my mind was focused not on the screen, but whether I should do anything. My palms got very sweaty and I kept telling myself to reach out and hold her hand. Finally, near the end of the movie, I swiftly reached out and grabbed her hand, which was resting on the arm of the chair. Her fist was clenched pretty tightly (whether that was in preparation of slugging me or not, I’m not sure) so she didn’t really reciprocate the hand-holding but neither did she take her hand away. All in all, it was a pretty awkward experience, but I gave myself credit for having the courage to make that first move.
Whether you’re asking someone on a date or friending someone on Facebook or inviting someone for a beverage because you think they might be a possible friend, a first move has to be made. I think it’s kind of nice when you’re the recipient of that move. Not always, of course (we can probably all tell stories of awkward invitations that weren’t necessarily welcomed), but more often than not. It sends a message that someone finds you interesting, that s/he wants to spend more time with you.
As we continue our sermon series on how we can know that God’s love is real, it’s important to remember this: God always makes the first move.
That may seem the opposite of what you’ve believed or heard about God. I think some people imagine God sitting on a heavenly throne and there’s a long line out the door of people who are waiting to come and kneel and say the perfect prayer in order for God to decide, yes, this person is worthy of my love. Does it seem odd that God might be waiting to see us?
And yet that seems to be the message of 1 John 4:7-11:
“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another.”
Later on, verse 19 makes it even more clear: “We love because (God) first loved us.”
This passage emphasizes not only that God makes the first move, but it begins to define exactly what love is. Love is so much more than rainbows and kittens. It’s also more than sex (I recently read someone say they saw some graffiti on a bathroom wall that said, “Love is all I want” and someone else wrote underneath it, “Sex is all you get.”) Instead, as Rev. William Self notes in the commentary, Feasting On The Word, “The love that is talked about in John’s letter is so unique that the early Christians took an old colorless Greek word that was rarely used and adopted it for their own purposes, giving it a rich meaning. That word is agape, love that gives without expecting a return, sacrificially.”
God is not primarily about fear or prosperity or protection or power. The author of the text says it clearly: First and foremost, God is love. Sacrificial love. A love that is willing to reach out to you without you even knowing it or expecting it. And if you don’t really even want it, that love is more patient than you realize.
What, then, shall be our response to this? Again, the text makes it pretty clear in verse 11: “Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another.”
That love can be lived out in many different and surprising ways. This Sunday is the Pride Parade in Chicago and our church will have ample representation so we can tell everyone about God’s sacrificial, patient, and insistent love. A couple of weeks ago, my father (who’s also a pastor) walked with his church in the Des Moines Pride Parade. That was a new experience for him. For many years, he has believed in and fought for inclusion of LGBT folks in the church, but walking in the parade was a stretch for him as he’s a pretty strong introvert. But he did it and walked along passing out flyers to tell people about his church (and its message of love). This was a way for him to live out the love-one-another command, but what caught him by surprise was one man who also had a gift for him. As Dad handed him a flyer, the man said he had something to share too and handed him a rainbow condom. My dad was taken aback by that and didn’t know quite what to make of it, but I think wondered later if perhaps this was this man’s attempt of loving, too. I’m not saying that handing out condoms is the ideal way of loving one another (though you could argue that HIV-AIDS prevention is a pretty powerful way of doing just that), but I am saying that giving and receiving this love can come in unexpected ways.
This has happened to me in recent weeks, too. I’ve been helping coach my son’s baseball team. I’m only one of several parents who are helping out so I’ve struggled a bit to figure out what my role is and what I should be doing (and, truth be told, whether my help is really even needed). One of the parents is a pretty gruff and boisterous guy (I’ll call him Al) and at one of the team’s first practices I noticed that he used fairly salty language, which I didn’t appreciate, considering there were a bunch of 7- and 8-year-old boys around. I must confess that I’ve never really been able to connect with guys like Al so I was pretty cool toward him even though he went out of his way to introduce himself to me and tried to engage me in following games and practices. He clearly wasn’t getting the hint from my aloofness. After one game, he had brought a cooler of adult beverages for the parents to enjoy while the kids had their own drinks and, at first, I thought, is this legal for us to have alcohol in a park? but he insisted I have a beer. He was going to win me over whether I liked it or not and I slowly warmed up to him. Two weeks later, I learned that his father passed away quite suddenly and I went up to him and said how sorry I was and that I would be praying for him and his family. He seemed to be genuinely moved by this gesture and we engaged in a thoughtful, sensitive conversation about families and loss. I would never in a million years have guessed that Al and I would have that conversation, but, thanks be to God, he didn’t let my indifference to him stop him from reaching out. I don’t know what his faith life is like, but he was attempting to love me and I finally woke up to that fact. His love was a reminder of the kind of love that God is wanting to share. Even when I’m resistant, that love is persistent.
The love we show one another will likely be the best way that s/he knows that God is love, that that love is real, and that God always makes the first move. May we receive that persistent love and, in turn, be persistent in sharing it.