Can't stop thinking about this one -- particularly the stirring, startling, even jarring contrast with the St Francis prayer. How to relate St Francis and Rhoden? I can think of either of two ways. St Francis appeals to the would-be changemakers, those who are trying to reform, to govern, to manage. And Chris, your powerfully simple statement brings us to a place where we're not trying to reform anything -- the lollipop man is not trying to manage a hospital. We just love. This has great appeal. But then I wonder, what if we had framed the question differently . . . You asked, "how do you become love?" What if instead we had asked, "how do you love?" Is St. Francis then the answer? Dunno, but that won't stop me from thinking about it. Thanks for this, my friend.
Thank you for this. I am genuinely interested in better understanding the contrast you see. I trust that it's there, but I cannot see it. I had hoped to ask this question this morning.
Also: I want to respond to your question "how do we love?" but I'm not sure there is a universal answer, or that love looks the same for all people in all circumstances. I wonder if how I love might look very different than how it might look for you to love. I wonder if both can be authentic and true, no matter how dissimilar they look, so long as they share the root of compassion and an earnest desire to pay attention to the beloved.
I almost wonder if it must be this way, and if this isn't the very nature of creation. That each of us has a unique way of loving, and that each unique way is vital to the health of creation. A lily doesn't offer itself in the same way that a peony does. A cardinal cannot become a hawk. It would be a monstrous thing, I think.
I wonder if my role is not simply to offer the gift I was given to those with whom I come into contact, and to do so compassionately and selflessly and authentically and with genuine attention. Not to offer your gift or the gift of another, but the one with which I (and maybe I alone) was entrusted when I was made. And so, too, you with the gift you were given. Each is essential. Each can be beautiful.
To me, this is an invitation to stop striving and trust the one who make me to love as I am to love, and in so doing, to become the Love I was intended to be.
Thanks for another great read, Chris! I've only read it twice so far, but I will be back. In the meantime, I just want to sit with, "How do you become Love?"
Yesterday, I attended a unique and powerful service at First Presbyterian Church on Cary Street. It was called One Day One Step and was a gathering of many different denominations and "belief" systems. Katie St. Germain, who organized the service, began by acknowledging this broad diversity but reminding us that we all loved Jesus and we all wanted racial reconciliation and healing for Richmond. Our worship ended with a communion service that was so powerful and gave me just a little glimpse of the beautiful scene John describes in Revelation 7:9.
So for a couple of hours yesterday morning, everyone in that church put aside their "right beliefs" and just worshipped Jesus together. It certainly felt like Love to me. I'm also convinced that heaven is going to be even more beautiful than we could ever imagine.
I love this note more than I can say. It reminds me of a conversation with a dear friend a few years ago. We were discussing how we all entered into grace through the same door, but then sorta self-organized ourselves into groups of like-minded people. So far, so good.
But It didn't take long to begin to view people outside of our little tribes with deep suspicion, to build dividers, and to forget that we all entered the same way.
Your description of a group of people with the courage to remember (and I think it takes enormous courage) moves me. Thank you, Kim.
Can't stop thinking about this one -- particularly the stirring, startling, even jarring contrast with the St Francis prayer. How to relate St Francis and Rhoden? I can think of either of two ways. St Francis appeals to the would-be changemakers, those who are trying to reform, to govern, to manage. And Chris, your powerfully simple statement brings us to a place where we're not trying to reform anything -- the lollipop man is not trying to manage a hospital. We just love. This has great appeal. But then I wonder, what if we had framed the question differently . . . You asked, "how do you become love?" What if instead we had asked, "how do you love?" Is St. Francis then the answer? Dunno, but that won't stop me from thinking about it. Thanks for this, my friend.
Andy,
Thank you for this. I am genuinely interested in better understanding the contrast you see. I trust that it's there, but I cannot see it. I had hoped to ask this question this morning.
Also: I want to respond to your question "how do we love?" but I'm not sure there is a universal answer, or that love looks the same for all people in all circumstances. I wonder if how I love might look very different than how it might look for you to love. I wonder if both can be authentic and true, no matter how dissimilar they look, so long as they share the root of compassion and an earnest desire to pay attention to the beloved.
I almost wonder if it must be this way, and if this isn't the very nature of creation. That each of us has a unique way of loving, and that each unique way is vital to the health of creation. A lily doesn't offer itself in the same way that a peony does. A cardinal cannot become a hawk. It would be a monstrous thing, I think.
I wonder if my role is not simply to offer the gift I was given to those with whom I come into contact, and to do so compassionately and selflessly and authentically and with genuine attention. Not to offer your gift or the gift of another, but the one with which I (and maybe I alone) was entrusted when I was made. And so, too, you with the gift you were given. Each is essential. Each can be beautiful.
To me, this is an invitation to stop striving and trust the one who make me to love as I am to love, and in so doing, to become the Love I was intended to be.
Just a thought,
C
Thanks for another great read, Chris! I've only read it twice so far, but I will be back. In the meantime, I just want to sit with, "How do you become Love?"
Yesterday, I attended a unique and powerful service at First Presbyterian Church on Cary Street. It was called One Day One Step and was a gathering of many different denominations and "belief" systems. Katie St. Germain, who organized the service, began by acknowledging this broad diversity but reminding us that we all loved Jesus and we all wanted racial reconciliation and healing for Richmond. Our worship ended with a communion service that was so powerful and gave me just a little glimpse of the beautiful scene John describes in Revelation 7:9.
So for a couple of hours yesterday morning, everyone in that church put aside their "right beliefs" and just worshipped Jesus together. It certainly felt like Love to me. I'm also convinced that heaven is going to be even more beautiful than we could ever imagine.
Thanks again for sharing and.....GO BUCKS!
Kim,
I love this note more than I can say. It reminds me of a conversation with a dear friend a few years ago. We were discussing how we all entered into grace through the same door, but then sorta self-organized ourselves into groups of like-minded people. So far, so good.
But It didn't take long to begin to view people outside of our little tribes with deep suspicion, to build dividers, and to forget that we all entered the same way.
Your description of a group of people with the courage to remember (and I think it takes enormous courage) moves me. Thank you, Kim.
In Christ,
C