“Why do you call me
good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone. (Luke 18:19)
“The goodness of God
means that God is the final standard of good, and that all that God is and does
is worthy of approval.” (Wayne Grudem, Systematic Theology, p. 197)
Oh boy, get out the boxing gloves, there’s going to be
blood drawn over this one. God, good? That’s been a joke since the days of Adam
and Eve. How could a good God let bad things happen to good people, to innocent
people? Fortunately, that rather big question is not the topic of the day.
Instead, we are considering the question of whether love is good.
Some folks would say, that yes, love is good – no hesitation, and then they would use that argument to claim that because love is good, therefore everything that they call love is good. Let us begin, then, with the reminder that love is a burning, unending passion for what is in the best interest of the beloved. Hannah Hurnard expands on this idea in her story, Mountains of Spices. Love is both wonderful and terrible, she says. What makes it terrible is both what the lover will endure for the sake of the beloved’s best interest, and what the lover will require that the beloved endure for the same.
It is easy to twist love into something that is almost love, but different: lust, infatuation, need, and possession, to name a few. It is also easy to twist the wonderfulness, or the terribleness of love into something that is neither wonderful, or terrible, but twisted, wrong, or sick. It’s easy because we are not good. We are fallen, and it is natural for us to drag everything else down with us to make ourselves feel better. It’s also natural for us to equate “terrible” with bad or evil.
But it is the terribleness of love that we deeply admire. It is the terribleness of love that brings the little old man to the nursing home every day to spend time brushing the hair of his beloved wife, who no longer recognizes him. It is the terribleness of love that sends a fire fighter into a burning building to rescue a paraplegic…a child…a household pet. It is the terribleness of love that allows a child to go to school, or to college. It is the terribleness of love that causes a soldier to leave his home and go to war. It is the terribleness of love that causes a parent whose child has committed a crime to testify against that child so that he is convicted, and then goes to visit that child regularly in prison. It is the terribleness of love that causes a person to forgive the concentration camp guard, the rapist, the murderer, and the one who has hurt us in some other way. And it is the terribleness of love that often produces the deepest capacity to love in the beloved.
Yes, I contend that love is good, it is the final standard of goodness, and is worthy of approval, but that those things that pretend to be love, and that our society approves as love, are neither love, nor a standard of goodness, nor worthy of approval… no matter what the world says. After all, the world hates God and rejects Him. It is only natural that the world would hate love, reject love, and offer up tempting substitutes to any and all. And love, in return, will let the beloved choose those things in hope that they will discover their falseness and turn toward what is good.
Some folks would say, that yes, love is good – no hesitation, and then they would use that argument to claim that because love is good, therefore everything that they call love is good. Let us begin, then, with the reminder that love is a burning, unending passion for what is in the best interest of the beloved. Hannah Hurnard expands on this idea in her story, Mountains of Spices. Love is both wonderful and terrible, she says. What makes it terrible is both what the lover will endure for the sake of the beloved’s best interest, and what the lover will require that the beloved endure for the same.
It is easy to twist love into something that is almost love, but different: lust, infatuation, need, and possession, to name a few. It is also easy to twist the wonderfulness, or the terribleness of love into something that is neither wonderful, or terrible, but twisted, wrong, or sick. It’s easy because we are not good. We are fallen, and it is natural for us to drag everything else down with us to make ourselves feel better. It’s also natural for us to equate “terrible” with bad or evil.
But it is the terribleness of love that we deeply admire. It is the terribleness of love that brings the little old man to the nursing home every day to spend time brushing the hair of his beloved wife, who no longer recognizes him. It is the terribleness of love that sends a fire fighter into a burning building to rescue a paraplegic…a child…a household pet. It is the terribleness of love that allows a child to go to school, or to college. It is the terribleness of love that causes a soldier to leave his home and go to war. It is the terribleness of love that causes a parent whose child has committed a crime to testify against that child so that he is convicted, and then goes to visit that child regularly in prison. It is the terribleness of love that causes a person to forgive the concentration camp guard, the rapist, the murderer, and the one who has hurt us in some other way. And it is the terribleness of love that often produces the deepest capacity to love in the beloved.
Yes, I contend that love is good, it is the final standard of goodness, and is worthy of approval, but that those things that pretend to be love, and that our society approves as love, are neither love, nor a standard of goodness, nor worthy of approval… no matter what the world says. After all, the world hates God and rejects Him. It is only natural that the world would hate love, reject love, and offer up tempting substitutes to any and all. And love, in return, will let the beloved choose those things in hope that they will discover their falseness and turn toward what is good.
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