Over the past couple of weeks, I've been thinking about how fellow Christians -- and sadly, sometimes, this even includes myself -- make God's Love so incredible/unbelievable.
If you ask Christians to succinctly define God's agape, my guess is that the most common definition would be "unconditional love". Consequently, Christians feel called to live out this unconditional love for the world. As the Bible says, "while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us". We didn't have to get it all right before Christ, the Incarnation of God's Love, would embrace us and forgive us. As Jesus prayed on the cross for those who killed him: "Father, forgive them".
In general, we think love is deep and wide. So kindness/liking is superficial. And yet, Christians say they love people while acting unkind to them. That is to say, we Christians too easily turn love into a lie. It's probably more accurate to say that God's agape love is God's liking us.
That's because kindness/liking is actually much harder in real life. In fact, imagine picking between the two:
Which is -- in reality -- the more difficult one to do? I think the world would pick A. Every time. The world has seen plenty of Christian "love". But they've actually not seen a lot of Christian "liking".
Over recent weeks, I know I haven't. Sure, we hear our brothers and sisters say "I love you like a brother". But then when their mouths are closed, and their living says it all, they're saying something so very different. What the world -- what I -- would like to see is a lot more Christian liking.
Liking is, to be honest, more gentle than "loving". Love seems to privilege the big stuff, often at the expense of the smaller stuff. At least that's true for Christians. When Christians say they "love" the world what they mean by this is that they are concerned about a person's ultimate destiny -- are they going to heaven or hell? This is the big stuff. But in pursuing this big stuff Christians often trample the small things, such as kindness and liking.
And that leaves us in a very interesting place. Because it means a reversal has occurred. Theoretically, we tend to think of kindness and liking as easy and superficial in contrast to a Christian love which is costlier and deeper. But in practice the reverse has become true. Christian love, as it is commonly expressed, has become cheap, easy, and superficial while kindness and liking require the hard work and sacrifice. Maybe the hard things are easy and the easy things are hard. Maybe love isn't agape anymore. Maybe liking is.
Maybe liking is the Christian thing to do.
And here's the thing: That feels rather promiscuous to most of us to say. I know it does to me. Which I guess is why we Christians are not so good at doing it.
Think about that. What has gone wrong in our expressions of agape when we feel that liking is more gracious, more hospitable, more unconditional than love? Why does love feel exclusive while liking feels inclusive?
I think the answer is that liking seems to capture the notion of "unconditionality" better than love. If so, we see once again how liking is a better translation of agape. Consider this. If I ask you to like the world, the request seems overwhelming. It's too big, too extravagant, too inclusive. Note in this how liking gets after the gracious extravagance and unconditionality of agape. To like involves finding pleasure in people, that people really are "occasions of Joy" (Rowan Williams), as they are, right now. When I like you, I like you.
That's actually a serious contrast with the way in which Christians talk and act.
Lately, I've had Christians -- who will say they "love" me -- act in ways that are much more narrow, much less gracious and much more demanding. While they say they love, what they actually mean is that they tolerate so long as I do and act the way they want me to do and act. Make one offense and you're out the door.
That is, Christians are really good at conjuring up an affection that is largely conditional. Specifically, when many Christians say they love you what they really mean is that they want to change you. They don't love your current self, they love the self you should, could, or ought to be. This is why outsiders find the "love" of Christians so chilly. Christian love isn't unconditional. It's got strings attached.
And this is why they push back when I make suggestions like the one I'm making here. "I can love you without liking you", I hear. But can you really?
I think like, rather than love, actually gets closer to what Jesus was talking about.
Liking the world, as it is, seems too nonjudgmental. The fear is that in liking the world we won't push the world to change. Because that's what the world really needs, a push. That's Christian love: A shove toward God.
The problem, of course, is pretty obvious. That's simply not the love of God made known in Jesus Christ.
We Christians don't love the world while they were yet sinners. We don't like the world. Without that liking, all you're left with is a lot of shoving.
And that shoving is what we're so good at.
I know it's what I've experienced these past couple of weeks.
This is why, this morning, I'm resolving to let the word love go to the cleaners. It's too dirty, now, to use, because it's been used on the lips of lots of Christians to serve purposes for which it was never intended. I'm finished loving the world. I'm resolving to like it. That includes all those who go around saying and doing the things that enemies do -- backbiting and gossiping and destroying one another in the name of "truth".
Love is a word that's just too easy to twist into a lie.
We know that God really loves us because God delights in us, enjoys us, is kind and gracious with us. God actually wants to share our company.
And what I'm suggesting is that if Christians can't love by being the same with others, we're not honestly loving them. What I'm suggesting is that if our understanding of being loved does not include being liked, or a least being prepared to learn to be liked, then there's a good chance that we're talking about the sort of love that can slip a double bind over us, that is saying to us "My love for you means that I like you if you become someone else".
It seems to me that if we're going to take Jesus seriously -- that Jesus is the very incarnation of God, the image of God coming among us as the likeness of humans -- then God likes us, here and now, as we are. Glad to be with us. And this means that the One who looks at us with love is not just looking at us with a penetrating and inscrutable gaze of utter otherness, but is looking at us with the delight of one who enjoys our company, who wants to be one with us, to share in something with us.
And if God likes us, then we ought to like each other.
I know that all sounds a little shaky and theoretical. So let me get practical for a moment.
Imagine a coworker or employee that you don't like. Do you, in a Christian sense, love him or her? Many Christians would say, "Sure I do". No doubt, this is a thin sort of love, and that's kind of my point. That's what I'm saying: The word love has lost its meaning. So let's ditch it and replace it with the word like. So, do you like this person? The answer is no, no, you do not. But what if I convinced you that God is calling you not to love but to like your coworker? How might following that command -- Thou shalt like thy coworker -- affect your behavior? Well, you'd likely start by trying to talk to her more. Invite her over to dinner. Find a shared interest or activity to spend time together.
Is that difficult? Absolutely. Does it rub against everything the world says you should do? Better believe it. Is it counter to what you want to do? Sure.
But -- and here's the thing -- that's the Gospel.
You don't get there because it "feels" like the right thing to do.
You get there because, following Jesus, you're willing to take the rough way, to go against everything that "feels" natural and normal. You're willing to try to get along and like this person. Regardless any other context or consequence. Simply because God delights in them, you're willing to delight in them, too.
At that point, there will be a breakthrough. Eventually, in that moment you'll see, perhaps for the first time, the person God sees. You'll see with the eyes of agape. And your heart will melt, if only for an instant. You'll find, against all odds, that you are experiencing the strangest feeling. Afterward, you'll come home and see your spouse who will wonder aloud why you spend so much time with this coworker. And you'll find yourself saying ... "I dunno, I just like her".
If you ask Christians to succinctly define God's agape, my guess is that the most common definition would be "unconditional love". Consequently, Christians feel called to live out this unconditional love for the world. As the Bible says, "while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us". We didn't have to get it all right before Christ, the Incarnation of God's Love, would embrace us and forgive us. As Jesus prayed on the cross for those who killed him: "Father, forgive them".
In general, we think love is deep and wide. So kindness/liking is superficial. And yet, Christians say they love people while acting unkind to them. That is to say, we Christians too easily turn love into a lie. It's probably more accurate to say that God's agape love is God's liking us.
That's because kindness/liking is actually much harder in real life. In fact, imagine picking between the two:
A. That Christians become more kind.
B. That Christians become more loving.
Which is -- in reality -- the more difficult one to do? I think the world would pick A. Every time. The world has seen plenty of Christian "love". But they've actually not seen a lot of Christian "liking".
Over recent weeks, I know I haven't. Sure, we hear our brothers and sisters say "I love you like a brother". But then when their mouths are closed, and their living says it all, they're saying something so very different. What the world -- what I -- would like to see is a lot more Christian liking.
Liking is, to be honest, more gentle than "loving". Love seems to privilege the big stuff, often at the expense of the smaller stuff. At least that's true for Christians. When Christians say they "love" the world what they mean by this is that they are concerned about a person's ultimate destiny -- are they going to heaven or hell? This is the big stuff. But in pursuing this big stuff Christians often trample the small things, such as kindness and liking.
And that leaves us in a very interesting place. Because it means a reversal has occurred. Theoretically, we tend to think of kindness and liking as easy and superficial in contrast to a Christian love which is costlier and deeper. But in practice the reverse has become true. Christian love, as it is commonly expressed, has become cheap, easy, and superficial while kindness and liking require the hard work and sacrifice. Maybe the hard things are easy and the easy things are hard. Maybe love isn't agape anymore. Maybe liking is.
Maybe liking is the Christian thing to do.
And here's the thing: That feels rather promiscuous to most of us to say. I know it does to me. Which I guess is why we Christians are not so good at doing it.
Think about that. What has gone wrong in our expressions of agape when we feel that liking is more gracious, more hospitable, more unconditional than love? Why does love feel exclusive while liking feels inclusive?
I think the answer is that liking seems to capture the notion of "unconditionality" better than love. If so, we see once again how liking is a better translation of agape. Consider this. If I ask you to like the world, the request seems overwhelming. It's too big, too extravagant, too inclusive. Note in this how liking gets after the gracious extravagance and unconditionality of agape. To like involves finding pleasure in people, that people really are "occasions of Joy" (Rowan Williams), as they are, right now. When I like you, I like you.
That's actually a serious contrast with the way in which Christians talk and act.
Lately, I've had Christians -- who will say they "love" me -- act in ways that are much more narrow, much less gracious and much more demanding. While they say they love, what they actually mean is that they tolerate so long as I do and act the way they want me to do and act. Make one offense and you're out the door.
That is, Christians are really good at conjuring up an affection that is largely conditional. Specifically, when many Christians say they love you what they really mean is that they want to change you. They don't love your current self, they love the self you should, could, or ought to be. This is why outsiders find the "love" of Christians so chilly. Christian love isn't unconditional. It's got strings attached.
And this is why they push back when I make suggestions like the one I'm making here. "I can love you without liking you", I hear. But can you really?
I think like, rather than love, actually gets closer to what Jesus was talking about.
Liking the world, as it is, seems too nonjudgmental. The fear is that in liking the world we won't push the world to change. Because that's what the world really needs, a push. That's Christian love: A shove toward God.
The problem, of course, is pretty obvious. That's simply not the love of God made known in Jesus Christ.
We Christians don't love the world while they were yet sinners. We don't like the world. Without that liking, all you're left with is a lot of shoving.
And that shoving is what we're so good at.
I know it's what I've experienced these past couple of weeks.
This is why, this morning, I'm resolving to let the word love go to the cleaners. It's too dirty, now, to use, because it's been used on the lips of lots of Christians to serve purposes for which it was never intended. I'm finished loving the world. I'm resolving to like it. That includes all those who go around saying and doing the things that enemies do -- backbiting and gossiping and destroying one another in the name of "truth".
Love is a word that's just too easy to twist into a lie.
We know that God really loves us because God delights in us, enjoys us, is kind and gracious with us. God actually wants to share our company.
And what I'm suggesting is that if Christians can't love by being the same with others, we're not honestly loving them. What I'm suggesting is that if our understanding of being loved does not include being liked, or a least being prepared to learn to be liked, then there's a good chance that we're talking about the sort of love that can slip a double bind over us, that is saying to us "My love for you means that I like you if you become someone else".
It seems to me that if we're going to take Jesus seriously -- that Jesus is the very incarnation of God, the image of God coming among us as the likeness of humans -- then God likes us, here and now, as we are. Glad to be with us. And this means that the One who looks at us with love is not just looking at us with a penetrating and inscrutable gaze of utter otherness, but is looking at us with the delight of one who enjoys our company, who wants to be one with us, to share in something with us.
And if God likes us, then we ought to like each other.
I know that all sounds a little shaky and theoretical. So let me get practical for a moment.
Imagine a coworker or employee that you don't like. Do you, in a Christian sense, love him or her? Many Christians would say, "Sure I do". No doubt, this is a thin sort of love, and that's kind of my point. That's what I'm saying: The word love has lost its meaning. So let's ditch it and replace it with the word like. So, do you like this person? The answer is no, no, you do not. But what if I convinced you that God is calling you not to love but to like your coworker? How might following that command -- Thou shalt like thy coworker -- affect your behavior? Well, you'd likely start by trying to talk to her more. Invite her over to dinner. Find a shared interest or activity to spend time together.
Is that difficult? Absolutely. Does it rub against everything the world says you should do? Better believe it. Is it counter to what you want to do? Sure.
But -- and here's the thing -- that's the Gospel.
You don't get there because it "feels" like the right thing to do.
You get there because, following Jesus, you're willing to take the rough way, to go against everything that "feels" natural and normal. You're willing to try to get along and like this person. Regardless any other context or consequence. Simply because God delights in them, you're willing to delight in them, too.
At that point, there will be a breakthrough. Eventually, in that moment you'll see, perhaps for the first time, the person God sees. You'll see with the eyes of agape. And your heart will melt, if only for an instant. You'll find, against all odds, that you are experiencing the strangest feeling. Afterward, you'll come home and see your spouse who will wonder aloud why you spend so much time with this coworker. And you'll find yourself saying ... "I dunno, I just like her".