God Is Love

1 Corinthians 4:3-5; 1 John 4:9-18 (selected verses)

I spent a summer while I was in seminary as a student minister at Acadia National Park in Maine, where I was assisted by a young volunteer named Martha. Martha was an old soul, wise beyond her years. I say that because during that summer while I was preaching on a broad range of biblical themes at our Sunday morning campground services, she would often ask, “Why not just preach on the love of God, since this will be the only opportunity we’ll have, and it’s what everyone most needs to hear?” Ironically, I, the seminary student, didn’t really get it at the time, but I’ve since come to appreciate her wisdom. And if I had it to do over again, I would follow that counsel, because the love of God really is the most important truth in all of life for us to know and to take to heart. Everything else derives from it and depends on that great reality.

Twice in his life Jesus heard his Father’s voice from heaven saying, “You are my Beloved Son; with you I am well-pleased,” first at his baptism at the beginning of his ministry, and later on the Mount of Transfiguration as he was approaching his suffering and death in Jerusalem. No doubt Jesus needed to hear those words from his Father.

We, too, need to remember and to embrace the reality of our belovedness as God’s children. The Apostle John understood this as well as anyone ever has. His letters emphasize the amazing gift of God’s love. “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” (1 John 3:1). We’ve been received into the family of God as his own children, those closest to his heart and most intimately loved.

John continues: “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.… There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (1 John 4).

John stresses that God’s love is perfect, having nothing to do with fear or punishment. His love is merciful and unconditional; it doesn’t have to be earned or deserved. We call that “grace:” love in its kindest, most merciful expression, the pure essence of love. When Jesus prayed from the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” that was grace. Even in the midst of his cruel, unjust death, Jesus extended kindness and mercy.

And John then adds, “Anyone who fears is not made perfect in love.” What does that mean, though, to be “made perfect in love?” I think it means living in a state of grace, without fear or anxiety or doubt, with only the reassuring knowledge that we’re loved, just as we are, faults and all. On the other hand, possibly the worst experience for any of us is rejection, to feel unloved, unaccepted and unappreciated for who we are.

A Professor of Speech at a large secular university, a devoutly Christian man in his early sixties, went around the room on the first day of an introductory speech class having the students introduce themselves by answering two questions: “What do I like about myself?” and “What would I like to change?”

A young woman named Dorothy was sitting in the back of the room, virtually hiding there behind the long, red hair that obscured most of her face from view. When her turn came to introduce herself there was only silence in the room. Thinking that she hadn’t heard the questions, the instructor gently repeated them for her. Again, though, there was no response for several long moments.

Finally, with a deep sigh, Dorothy sat up in her chair and pulled back her hair, revealing her face. Covering nearly all of one side of her face there was a large, irregular dark red birthmark. “That,” she said, “should show you what I don’t like about myself.”

Moved with compassion, the professor went to her, leaned over and gave her an encouraging hug. Then he kissed her cheek where the birthmark was, and told her, “That’s okay, honey. God and I still think you’re beautiful.”

Hearing that, Dorothy then broke into sobs, and wept uncontrollably for almost twenty minutes. Several other students gathered around her and offered their own expressions of comfort and kindness. When she could finally speak, Dorothy said, “I’ve wanted so much for someone to hug me and say what you’ve just said. Why couldn't my parents do that? My mother wouldn’t even touch my face.”