This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. (I John 3:16)
Let
the battle begin. I ought to lay down my life for my brothers and sisters? But
even doing that will never be enough. I’m too much of a coward. I’m too stupid.
I’m too judgmental. I’m too distracted and busy. And all those people for whom
I’m supposed to be laying down my life… how would that do any of them any good?
Notice
what happened there? “We ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and
sisters.” This is love.
But…but…but…
I…I…me…my…
I
have nothing worth giving…
Then,
there’s the response described by one of my pastors. He would gladly do battle
with a dragon for his beloved wife… but take out the garbage?
So
let’s go back to the verse. “Jesus laid down his life for us.” Even if it weren’t
Good Friday, I suspect our immediate understanding of this involves the crucifixion.
He laid down his life for us. He died for us. He fought the dragon and
won. Praise Him! All honor and glory belong to Him. Yes, that is very true.
But
before He walked the Via Dolorosa, suffered, died, and rose again, He laid down
His life. He was God, doing all those God-things that a god’s gotta do. And,
when the time was right, He took off His crown, put down His scepter, and took
on humanity. Ultimately, He walked the Via Dolorosa, suffered, died, and rose
again, but if we get stuck on that as the definition of laying down our
lives, it kills the love we are supposed to give.
Laying
down our lives doesn’t mean – or only mean – dying for someone else. It also
means dying to self for someone else. It means muting and putting down the cell
phone. It means not saying, “My show is on!” It means putting down that first (and
oh, so needed) cup of coffee. You may never be called on to die for someone
else, but laying down one’s life is handling those interruptions to your plans.
Here’s another idea to consider. We’re supposed to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters – every one of the more than two billion Christians alive today. We’re supposed to give everything we have – our very lives – for them. In 1996, David Spathaky and Debbie Woolley spun 108 plates on sticks for the world record. Only one-hundred-eight. Imagine if they tried to spin a million. They’d fail. Of course, they’d fail. Yet this verse suggests that we should somehow tend to our love for billions of people.
But
what if David and Debbie had a billion assistants? What if we aren’t being
called to love everyone, all the time? These billions are what I call “virtual
people.” It’s not that they don’t exist, but are we so focused on some unknown
brother or sister’s needs thousands of miles away that we don’t even notice the
hurting person in front of us? Or are we so keyed up by our failures to solve
the huge problems of the world that we either drown in guilt or discount the
need of the person in front of us because their needs don’t measure up? We’re
too busy helping those folks “over there” to lay down that self-affirming
activity?
When
Jesus laid down His life and walked among us, He didn’t heal every person. He
didn’t solve every problem. He didn’t overthrow the Roman Empire and set up His
eternal kingdom on Earth in a physical sense. He didn’t do it all. He
left work for us to do. When we think we are supposed to do everything, we kill
our ability to do what’s in front of us.
This goes back to what I recently shared about living in the day instead of
worrying about tomorrow. If we can do something productive toward tomorrow,
that’s great, but if we worry so much about tomorrow that we miss out on today,
we’re not doing anyone any favors. If we can do something to help those folks
over there, that’s great. But if our concern for them gets in the way of loving
a brother or sister nearby, we’re not doing anyone any favors. And this is
especially true if we can’t actually do anything about those folks over there.[1]
In
addition to living in day-sized boxes, we would do well to pay attention and respond to those who cross our paths.
[1] This
isn’t a dismissal of the power of prayer. Our prayers for anyone can accomplish
much, but are we so busy praying that we can’t take the time to be the answer
to prayer for someone?
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