Looking For Loopholes

“He wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’” Luke 10:29

When it comes to commitments and contracts, it seems that as soon as we sign, we start looking for loopholes.  Humans have been trying to untangle themselves from obligations since the start (think garden, fruit, snake, etc.), but sometimes the more diligently we try to get out, the deeper we get in.

Such was the story for a lawyer who tested Jesus—and failed.  The man, an expert in Jewish theology, asked Jesus the requirements for eternal life, but instead of answering with a statement, Jesus responded with a question.  “‘What is written in the Law?’ he replied.  ‘How do you read it?’”(Lk 10:26).  With no hesitation, the lawyer rattled off the two greatest commandments:  “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength,” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.”  Since doing of all these things all of the time would equal perfection, Jesus replied, “Do this and you will live”(Lk 10:28).

This comeback unsettled the expert because the demand was so broad.  To love God with everything made sense, but an expectation to love all others seemed absurd, so he started looking for a loophole.  “He wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’”(Lk 10:29). 

In answer Jesus told the parable we call “The Good Samaritan”—the tale of a victimized traveler, desperate and dying, who was ignored by a prideful priest and a reluctant rabbi before being finally rescued by a passerby with a soft heart and an open hand. The hero was a man the lawyer loathed—a Samaritan, a part-breed Jew whom proper Israelites despised and disdained, but such was exactly the point.  Mercy and compassion know no boundaries.  Ethnicity, economics, preferences, partialities, or even our own plans and priorities should never keep us from being kind and caring.  Ever. The expectation to love all others is large, but so is our God.

Who is your neighbor?  The one in need.

Love has no loopholes.

Intentionally

“The second is this:  ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Mark 12:31

Sometimes the best place to begin is where you left off.  

We do it when reading books and reconnecting with friends, so I thought I would try it with writing devotions.  For two months I’ve struggled to consistently turn thoughts into words, but while the freshness of the New Year lingers (yes, my Christmas tree is still up and December’s calendar hasn’t come down), I hereby resolve to read and reflect more, so I’ll start where I left off—in the middle of the two greatest commandments.  

A religious leader had asked Jesus which was the most important of all God’s instructions, but instead of merely replying to his single request, Jesus did what grace so often does—gives us more than we ask for.  The lawyer’s curiosity only covered the greatest commandant, but Jesus followed up the supreme directive—to love God completely—with the second—to love others intentionally.  “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this:  ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’”(Mk 12:30-31).

The two commandments cannot be separated, for if the first is obeyed, the second will occur.  Our God is a reaching out, relational God, and our passion for Him causes us to care about others.  How we are to do this sort of caring is set straight in the second commandment—“Love your neighbor as yourself.”

What those few but profound words truly mean has been pondered more than a little in my mind over many years, and it wasn’t until tonight that my understanding of the commandment finally seemed a bit more complete as I typed the word “intentionally” two paragraphs ago.  As Christians, we are taught to “die to self” and to be “unselfish,” so the idea of how we love ourselves being the model for how we treat others has always seemed somewhat contradictory and confusing.  But it doesn’t need to be.

At its core, love is more about action than emotion, so instead of pondering our self-passion, let’s consider our self-preservation.  Another way to put it is—how do we take care of ourselves?   The answer is—on purpose.  We intentionally eat when we’re hungry, rest when we’re weary, and wash when we’re dirty.  We intentionally minimize fear and maximize comfort.  We avoid what causes pain and embrace what produces pleasure—on purpose.  We do everything we can to create outcomes in our lives that bring us good and not bad, and we do it all deliberately.  

If you’re thinking, “Well, sometimes I might do that, but often I choose to be weary or uncomfortable or go without a want or wish so that the delight of others will increase and their distress decrease,” then you get God’s point exactly.  You are loving or taking care of others the way you would take care of yourself if you were the only one around.  You are setting aside your own safety, security, sleep, savings, etc. for the benefit of someone else.  You are actively involved for the good of another—on purpose.  Intentionally.  In other words, you are “loving your neighbor as yourself.”

After working through this in my mind and heart, the concept is less confusing but more challenging because instead of trying to conjure up feelings for others, I know I am called to take care of them intentionally and sacrificially.  I am commanded to live up to what the apostle John wrote down, “Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth”(1 Jn 3:18), and I am to do so deliberately.

Love your God. Love your neighbor. And do them both on purpose.

The better we know the One who cares for us, the better we can take care of others.

The Repeat

A quick glance down the driveway or into the den confirms what the calendar reveals—the Christmas season has arrived once again.  Once again, we trim trees, hang lights, and move Nativities from the attic to the open.  Once again we buy gifts, bake cookies, and mail cards.  Once again we sing carols, ring bells, and light candles.  But why? Why, year after year, December after December, for all of all of our lives, do we do these same things again and again and again?

The answer goes back to the sermon I heard last Sunday. (Yes, I’m still wondering about those words in the warehouse.)  The man who spoke at my daughter’s college church was a guest preacher.  He works with the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, and he preached on Jesus’ parable about prayer in Luke 11.  It brought back memories.

One Sunday twenty-five years ago at my college church, the man who spoke was a guest preacher.  He worked with the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, and he preached on Jesus’ parable about prayer in Luke 11.  Both men said the same thing—when we ask, God supplies, so we can share His love and life with others.  (For the record, I don’t think this is a planned topic for Graham group speakers; I think the repeat was divinely directed.)

Since I had already heard a sermon on that Scripture, why did I listen again last Sunday?  Why didn’t I close the Book and be done?  For the same reason you and I are once again hanging lights, trimming trees, and wrapping presents—God’s faithful love endures forever.

Give or take a few dozen, I’ve experience over nine thousand days of God’s faithfulness since I heard that sermon the first time, and not once for a single moment during any of those days has God’s grace in my life faltered or faded.  Not once has His mercy lessened.  Not once has His love wandered or wavered.  His compassion has been constant, His forgiveness unfailing, and His salvation secure.  The God who pours out on us abundantly more than all we can ask or imagine—this God who supplies love and life to fill our souls and to share with others—should be worshiped and praised over and over, again and again, day after day, year after year.  

His passion for our hearts moved Him from heaven to earth to make us His own, and such an event is worth celebrating season after season.  So trim the tree.  String the lights.  Give the gifts.  And celebrate.  Again and again. 

We will never tire of the repeat when it’s done for right reason—“Unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”