Cherish

Disclaimer: I don't put stickers proclaiming my faith on my car because I don't always drive in a manner befitting my ideals. Writing this post feels like a bumper sticker.

This is a post I’ve been struggling to write – not sure I've articulated it completely, but hang in there – I have a number of puzzle pieces to identify before I get to the point…

Some time after I told Aslan (yes, of Narnia) that if he were real, I would love him, I understood that I was a “Christian”, a follower of Jesus. He came to proclaim the end of religion, rules, and rituals that masquerade as faith. This is hard for me because I am a first born, and generally find myself to be a rule-follower. I like it when I know the rules because life seems less chaotic and easier to navigate (as when everyone drives on the same side of the road!)

Christians (love ‘em or hate ‘em) are no different than any other group. ‘We’ (yes, we) are sometimes right, sometimes wrong, but always like to think ‘we’ are right. I don’t think that makes us much different than most. As with other groups, ‘we’ have terrible blind spots, a hard, hard truth. ‘We’ don’t much like people who are different from us. Back in the middle ages, ‘our’ blind spots led to the Crusades. More recently, blindness permitted the Holocaust. Sometimes, ‘we’ find ourselves on both sides of conflict as during the Irish Troubles and other wars. ‘We’ love to believe ‘we’ are on God’s side. We forget that Jesus willingly gave his life up for ours.

I’m no judge and I hope to avoid jury duty forever. What I DO know is that when I see a stranger, I could be more in favour of judgement. This changes when the individual is up close and personal. I am more likely to allow my friends and those I already know room to breathe and to be. If I have glimpsed their heart, it's easier to love.

Here, finally, is my point: Jesus sees us all as his friend and loves us already. My heart swells to almost bursting when I think that he loves me fully, wildly, crazily, and amazingly completely. Despite my lack of faith, action, understanding, or hope, he continues to open his heart to me. I am graced with love.

This love extends to us all. Every one of us. My insides are full of ugly moments and thoughts, yet Jesus loves me completely. Does he want me to get better at love? Certainly (so do I). Does he want you to get better at love? You bet he does. And he continues to love us through these struggles completely, gracefully, and wholeheartedly.

So I choose to [try] not to judge. There seem to be more than enough volunteers to judge others for [fill in the blank]. Daily I struggle to work on love and being a bridge to the best love ever. I’ve already failed THAT test. I’m not saying I like everyone, because most frightening to me, we are called to love the contemporary crusaders too. In fact, I fail miserably on all counts and will continue to fail. While 'we' have a history of being lousy (if enthusiastic) judges and juries, with repeated effort perhaps we all just might get pretty good at offering kindness, sharing hope, and cherishing every one who crosses our path as if they were our friend. 

Grace.