You don’t get it. Seriously. If you did, things would be different. It’s not just you, either. It’s me. Really, we don’t get it. What is it? If you’re paying attention to the title, it’s the love of Christ.
Christianity is built on this love. It’s all that we have. We love, because He first loved us. His love was poured out for the forgiveness of our sins. The love of Christ is infinitely valuable, but given freely to an unworthy people. You and I are totally undeserving of any good thing. We are sinful creatures, and have proven over and over again that we cannot be trusted. How many times have I trampled the blood of Christ under my feet, treated it as something cheap and common, and acted as if I deserved His forgiveness.
Sin comes easy, and too often, we believe that forgiveness does, too. Grace is free, but it isn’t worthless. We are too quick to throw it away, allowing ourselves the temporal pleasures of sin while counting on the forgiveness that is sure to follow. We’ve weighed for ourselves love and justice, and we’ve determined that love always trumps. If that were the case, Jesus wouldn’t have had to die. Justice has its place, and justice will be done.
We cannot continue in sin and expect God to just forgive us day after day. His purpose isn’t for us to live defeated, sin-sick lives. Read the words of Christ to the seven churches in Revelation. Each time, He says “to them that overcome.” His promises are conditional. That’s not something we like to hear, but it’s true.
His love ought not to be manifest in His constant forgiveness, but rather it should spill out of us into a love for others. Sin can pass away from us. We have passed from death to life, from sickness to health, from darkness to light. Anything less than Christ’s perfect love is a matter of our choosing, and choosing poorly.
His love is unending, undying, and unyielding. We ought to use it to accomplish good rather than continually wipe out the evil we create. We should stop doing wrong, and focus on doing right. Every act of sin is a choice. Choose wisely.
The following hymn, O Tell Me More, was chosen purposefully to both line up with the above blog post (serious), and the above picture (cheeky). It was written in by Eliza E. Hewitt in the early 1900s. I’ll present my twist following, but if you’d like to see the original, you can do so here.
The richness of Christ cannot be purchased.
The knowledge of Christ cannot be taught.
The vastness of Christ cannot be navigated.
The depth of His love shall never be plumbed.
But I want to hear it. Tell me more!
Speak of the endless, unsearchable love.
His heart could beat for a million eternities, and
Yet fall short of the truth that He is.
The whole of creation is subject to Him.
His presence bends knees, and leaves us prostrate.
He speaks and the mountains tremble.
He walks and the earth splits before Him.
But I want to see it. Show me more!
You live and breathe, so change me.
I submit to Your workings, so have Your way in me.
Rebuild and remodel, crucify and create.
For the rest of my life, I’m going to seek,
To explore, to swim in Your love.
May I be of use with what you show me,
Until all is revealed on the other side.