Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. [1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (ESV)]
I was married fifty-seven years ago today. When I promised to love, comfort, honor, cherish, forsake all others, and to have and to hold my husband “for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health” until we parted at death, I had no idea just how bad “for worse” could get, how little money “for poorer” might be, or that sickness could mean much more than a case of the flu. I certainly never pictured us growing old with wrinkles, white hair, hearing aids, bifocals, arthritis, and the limitations that come advanced years.
My husband and I had known each other for less than a year when we made our vows. Although we took them seriously and sincerely meant every word we said, at 20 and 24, neither of us had any inkling of the challenges that would accompany parenthood or how difficult it can be to cherish someone whose words or actions hurt us or with whom we disagree. With 43% of all first marriages ending in divorce, we’re not the only ones who entered into marriage so naively. Since 60% of second marriages fail and 73% of third ones do, some people never learn!
Like many couples, we had 1 Corinthians 13 read during the ceremony. Paul, however, wasn’t writing to young lovers or for a wedding—he was writing to the church in Corinth. The word he used for love wasn’t eros, the Greek word for romantic or sexual love, nor was it philia, meaning brotherly love, or storge, meaning familial love. It was agape and describes the kind of love that comes from God (who is love) and the kind of love believers are to have for all their fellow travelers on this planet. Agape is an unconditional love that doesn’t depend on appearance, physical attraction, or emotions. Unlike eros, agape isn’t something we fall into or out of. Agape is more than a feeling; it is a deliberate choice (and one that must be made daily if any marriage is to survive)!
Although Paul was addressing his words to the church and specifically speaking about the necessity of love when using spiritual gifts, his description of agape love holds true in marriage, as well. In the decades since our wedding, we’ve experienced good and not so good times. There have been periods of plenty and sparseness, illness and well-being, tragedy and joy, fullness and emptiness, anger and forgiveness, excitement and tedium, labor and leisure, vulnerability and security, loss and gain, turmoil and peace, discontent and satisfaction. Although eros brought us together, eros alone couldn’t have gotten us through those times. Only agape love could have kept us together all these decades.
Agape mirrors the love God showed us on Calvary and, by the grace of God, our marriage survives because of agape! While Jesus’ sacrifice saved mankind, the sacrifices made in marriage save the unity of the relationship! The unrestricted, unrestrained, unselfish, and sacrificial love of agape is a conscious choice. None of us are loveable all of the time; we can, however, choose to be loving all of the time!
The love that is affirmed at a wedding is not just a condition of the heart but an act of the will, and the promise that love makes is to will the other’s good even at the expense sometimes of its own good—and that is quite a promise. … A marriage made in heaven is one where they become more richly themselves together than the chances are either of them could ever have managed to become alone. [Frederick Buechner]
On June 19, Louisiana’s Governor Jeff Landry signed legislation requiring all public K-12 classrooms and state-funded universities to display a poster-sized version of the Ten Commandments in “large, easily readable font” in every classroom next year. As expected, a lawsuit has been filed to block what some say is an unconstitutional requirement. I’ll leave the arguments about civil liberties and constitutional law to the lawyers and courts; Louisiana’s law is troubling for other reasons.
Described as a “preaching genius…like no other preacher you have ever heard,” the late Rev. Fred Craddock was well-known for including stories in his sermons. He told one that took place during the early 60s in a diner in the deep South. Although the white Craddock sat in a booth and was served with courtesy and consideration, he silently watched the diner’s manager treat a Black man at the counter with rudeness, disdain, and open contempt. Although offended by the man’s racist behavior, Craddock remained silent. It was when he walked out of the diner after finishing his meal that the preacher heard a rooster crow. A signal of his betrayal, the crowing told the preacher that, by ignoring one of the “least of these”, he’d ignored Jesus! His silence was as much a betrayal of the Lord as were Peter’s denials!
Having previously warned people that not everyone who claimed to follow Him would enter the Kingdom, Jesus told the Parable of the Sheep and Goats in which He likened the last judgment to a king separating the sheep from the goats at the end of the day. Placing the sheep to His right and the goats to His left, the King invites the sheep into the Kingdom. The reasoning behind His selection is disarmingly simple: “For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.” [Matthew 25:35-36] Having failed to do those things, the goats are sent into eternal punishment.
When a nomikós (Scripture lawyer, an expert in religious law) tested Jesus by asking what he must do to inherit eternal life, the Lord countered with his own question, “What does the law say?” When the man responds with the words of Deuteronomy 6:5 and Leviticus 19:18, Jesus says he’s answered correctly. Wanting clarification, he then asks, “Who is my neighbor?” His query tells us the nomikós is more interested in the letter of the law than its spirit. Apparently, he wouldn’t want to waste any love on someone who wasn’t his neighbor or miss loving someone who was! Jesus answers the man’s question with one of his best-known stories—the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
Brent Askari’s play, The Refugees, begins with an unusual premise. Because of a violent civil war in the United States, an upscale American family become refugees in a Middle Eastern country. When the family’s Arab social worker referred to the American refugees as “you people,” the once suburban housewife’s expression spoke volumes. In her previous Connecticut life, anyone who wasn’t white and upper middle class had been “those people” but the tables have turned and the roles reversed. Instead of being the ones with the money and advantages, her family and others like them are “those people:” a minority, seeking asylum in a new country, unfamiliar with the customs, and unable to read, write, or speak the language. Wearing clothes they once would have sent to Goodwill, they need government assistance to survive. Her once high-priced lawyer husband is now a stock boy whose boss takes advantage of his immigrant status. This family and other American refugees are as unwelcome in the unnamed Arab country as are the refugees at our border.
Devotions of the Heart 