Five Senses: God is love
More Five Senses reflections, following up on my previous post...
Yesterday a song was sung during church where in beautiful harmony the chorus repeated, “God is love. Love one another. God is love. Love one another.” I normally make it a point to not pay attention during singing in church, and this post is a good example why. Perhaps the main reason is that while I enjoy the singing, I contemplate too deeply on the lyrics of songs, and process too heavily on the hurting world around me.
Yesterday was no different.
The sense of sight was in full affect yesterday during this moment. As the song continued and it caught my attention, I couldn’t help but notice the people around me. Specifically, some Dry Bones street kids who found their way to church yesterday. As the chorus repeated, and the voices of church members soared over the congregation, I found myself observing the faces of these kids. “God is love. Love one another. God is love. Love one another,” did not seem to carry the same meaning for them as it did for everyone else. In fact, it seemingly carried a far worse meaning.
I think it is hard for many people of faith to envision how “God is love. Love one another,” is revealed in the context of the lives of people who live in chronic pain. More than just being hard, I think it is something we avoid imagining. We force ourselves to ignore that God can be present in the lives of many, by paradoxically being absent. Severely absent. Recklessly absent. Arguably: unlovingly absent.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately on the words Christ lamented in anguish while on the cross. Matthew recounts a three hour period of absolute darkness where Christ hung on the cross in pain, in shame, and I would argue in horror. Out of His lips, out of some kind of emotion,
“Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"—which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt:27:46)
I have heard people of faith suggest this is not a way that we should “worship” God. That this was something for Christ. However, while everyone else during church worshipped by saying unanimously in one accord, “God is love. Love one another. God is love. Love one another,” I can guarantee you that these street kids needed permission to worship differently. I needed permission. We all need permission. Otherwise, these kids and people like them will never connect with a God that is seemingly powerless in their lives to remove their sufferings, but only in, a strange way, chooses to love them by suffering with them. Something we often choose not to do.
For more about the beautiful Dry Bones ministry, one that changed my life, please click here.
Comments
Psalm 22 gives us scriptural permission to worship in this way, I believe. One man's anguish was set to music and sung in public gatherings by people of faith over the centuries... something I have a hard time imagining in our culture (especially religious culture). Jesus apparently knew it well, and it gave voice to his interaction with the Father in this most extreme hour. I wonder what we offer each other that can give voice to our faith when God seems most absent?
Posted by: Scott Dewey | March 13, 2006 09:27 AM
Thanks, Sam. I have sat in church with tears pouring down my face because my Dad was dying, or my best friends were divorcing, or I'd reached the end of my rope with my toddlers. All the while, the "Jesus makes me happy all the time" music is going in the background. The only way I could deal with it was to leave. Which is really sad when you think about it. Of course, there are people at church overwhelmed by joy. This joy should drive us to worship. But there are also (unless they've already left in disgust or anguish) people in pain. This pain should also drive us to worship--worship the God who emptied himself. But there is almost no place for this in church, especially as a community. (If we're allowed to cry out in anguish at all, it needs to be alone.) I, too, long for a church honest enough to worship the REAL God in a REAL way. Pretending to be happy all the time doesn't square with human experience, or with the story we have of God and his people in the Bible. It's not more spiritual; it's wrong.
Posted by: Melanie Dewey | March 13, 2006 07:25 PM