For the Love of God
November 1, 2009
Mark 12:28-34; Deuteronomy 6:4-9
“For the love of God …”
How do you hear that phrase? What, or whom, do you think of when you hear it?
When I think of the phrase, “for the love of God,” I imagine it being said with an eye roll, as an epithet expressing dismay or disgust with something or someone that is not working right.
For some reason, at the beginning of last week, that phrase kept rolling around my thoughts as I considered these passages.
Jesus is teaching. His followers, in the previous chapters of Mark, have been all over the map trying to figure out their teacher’s message. It is almost as if Jesus rolls his eyes himself, looks heavenward in some mix of amusement and disgust at the ineptness of his followers, and says, “for the love of God ….”
Almost as if to give him a chance to give this feeling voice, Jesus is asked about the commandments and nods his approval to the suggestion that it is all about the love of God.
“Love God; love your neighbor.” It’s all that simple, really.
The foundational wisdom of Jesus’ Jewish heritage, captured in the words of the shema, “Hear O Israel, the Lord your God is one. … You shall love God with all your heart and mind. Teach your children this.”
For the love of God. For this you shall live.
One wonders how that impetus came to be turned on its head such that the phrase, “for the love of God,” was turned into an expression of disgust.
Perhaps it is because living that way – living for the love of God, living out of that foundational love – is so hard.
After all, I think I heard somewhere, “how does the love of God abide in you if you have this world’s goods and riches but do not help someone in need?”
It is so easy to say that we love the Lord. It is so easy to say that God loves us. It is so hard to live moment to moment, day by day, as if we believe what we say.
We tend to build walls to keep out those who are not like us, or who seem to threaten us. But the church cannot be a gated community. All of us want to come to the table and feast. All of us want to draw close round the manger and feel the love of God. All of us want to celebrate the new life that Easter represents. But we cannot get to such places if we live fenced lived. For when we wall out the other, we wall out God.
Oh, to be sure, we all have our moments when we feel God’s love and feel and act as if it is real and powerful in our lives. But to be just as sure, we all live just as often if not more so as if we were all alone and on our own in the universe.
But Jesus was on to something when he reminded his followers that the whole of the law and the prophets – that is to say, the totality of theology and the meaning of faith – could be summed up in the great twin commandment: love God and love neighbor.
The two are intimately connected and intertwined. It is impossible to do one without the other, for if God is at the center of life and we human beings – all interconnected form a great circle of life around the divine center, then we draw closer to one another we inevitably draw closer to God. And, when we draw closer to God, we inevitably draw closer to one another as well.
Picture that circle with God in the center. Imagine drawing closer.
The question is, how do we draw closer to God? How, indeed, do you draw closer to God?
The second question is like the first: how do we draw closer to one another. How, indeed, do you draw closer to one another?
Picture again that circle with God at the center.
As I imagine that, we are gathered at a great banquet. There is a table, set for all. We are invited. Come, let us break bread together, and may our hearts be broken open as well such that God’s love may enter again.
Mark 12:28-34; Deuteronomy 6:4-9
“For the love of God …”
How do you hear that phrase? What, or whom, do you think of when you hear it?
When I think of the phrase, “for the love of God,” I imagine it being said with an eye roll, as an epithet expressing dismay or disgust with something or someone that is not working right.
For some reason, at the beginning of last week, that phrase kept rolling around my thoughts as I considered these passages.
Jesus is teaching. His followers, in the previous chapters of Mark, have been all over the map trying to figure out their teacher’s message. It is almost as if Jesus rolls his eyes himself, looks heavenward in some mix of amusement and disgust at the ineptness of his followers, and says, “for the love of God ….”
Almost as if to give him a chance to give this feeling voice, Jesus is asked about the commandments and nods his approval to the suggestion that it is all about the love of God.
“Love God; love your neighbor.” It’s all that simple, really.
The foundational wisdom of Jesus’ Jewish heritage, captured in the words of the shema, “Hear O Israel, the Lord your God is one. … You shall love God with all your heart and mind. Teach your children this.”
For the love of God. For this you shall live.
One wonders how that impetus came to be turned on its head such that the phrase, “for the love of God,” was turned into an expression of disgust.
Perhaps it is because living that way – living for the love of God, living out of that foundational love – is so hard.
After all, I think I heard somewhere, “how does the love of God abide in you if you have this world’s goods and riches but do not help someone in need?”
It is so easy to say that we love the Lord. It is so easy to say that God loves us. It is so hard to live moment to moment, day by day, as if we believe what we say.
We tend to build walls to keep out those who are not like us, or who seem to threaten us. But the church cannot be a gated community. All of us want to come to the table and feast. All of us want to draw close round the manger and feel the love of God. All of us want to celebrate the new life that Easter represents. But we cannot get to such places if we live fenced lived. For when we wall out the other, we wall out God.
Oh, to be sure, we all have our moments when we feel God’s love and feel and act as if it is real and powerful in our lives. But to be just as sure, we all live just as often if not more so as if we were all alone and on our own in the universe.
But Jesus was on to something when he reminded his followers that the whole of the law and the prophets – that is to say, the totality of theology and the meaning of faith – could be summed up in the great twin commandment: love God and love neighbor.
The two are intimately connected and intertwined. It is impossible to do one without the other, for if God is at the center of life and we human beings – all interconnected form a great circle of life around the divine center, then we draw closer to one another we inevitably draw closer to God. And, when we draw closer to God, we inevitably draw closer to one another as well.
Picture that circle with God in the center. Imagine drawing closer.
The question is, how do we draw closer to God? How, indeed, do you draw closer to God?
The second question is like the first: how do we draw closer to one another. How, indeed, do you draw closer to one another?
Picture again that circle with God at the center.
As I imagine that, we are gathered at a great banquet. There is a table, set for all. We are invited. Come, let us break bread together, and may our hearts be broken open as well such that God’s love may enter again.
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