He Loves Me
The other day someone at church asked what is the greatest example in Scripture of Jesus’ compassion. The correct answer, the one the speaker was looking for, was His sacrifice on Calvary. Assuredly. This is not, however, what first came to my mind. I love so many things about Christ. One of them is His attention to detail, another is His awareness of the disenfranchised. I also appreciate His ability to respond to the most desperate need of an individual. There is a story that encompasses all of this.
In the eighth chapter of Matthew, a man with leprosy humbly knelt before Jesus. He stated simply, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” Jesus was willing. His desire to heal this man is heartwarming. The man’s faith in Christ is encouraging to us who struggle at times. But what catches my attention is Jesus’ physical response. He could have just said, “I am willing. Be clean!” In fact, these were His words. But look closely. Here was a man who had been shunned by his community. If he met someone on the road, he had to pass on the opposite side, exclaiming, “Unclean, unclean.” How long do you suppose it had been since anyone had really looked at him? Even more heartbreaking, how long do you suppose it had been since anyone had touched him? But this is exactly what God-With-Us did. Scripture tells us that He reached out and touched the man. This is not the act of an impersonal God. This is Compassion in Flesh.
One day, while we were still in Germany, I was walking along one of the alpine trails. The path had climbed uphill, and as I rounded the bend I could see the Loisach River meandering below. The sun brightened the sky above; the mountains framed the horizon. The blue of the water contrasted with the soft green of the bank on which a little Bavarian cottage sat. Nearby a small black goat ambled leisurely, the bell around his neck tinkling as he nibbled clumps of grass. This river had been flowing from the melting snow for eons, through the almost ageless mountains. So I was not the first to have my breath taken away by the panoramic view spread out in front of me. I marveled at the incredible goodness of a God toward His creatures, that He so extravagantly delights our senses for no other reason than to give us joy. I thought to myself, “How very much He loves us.”
But as I stood there, suddenly I knew it was more than just “us” that He loved. It’s not only mankind in general that He pursues and woos, and for whom He opens the floodgates of blessings. I realized, that day on the mountain, that if I were the only person on earth, God would still have created that view. If He loves mankind enough to do that, He loves me enough to do it. On a cerebral level I knew that Christ loved me, individually, enough to die for me. But that moment I understood His love in a deeper, more personal way. That spot became my own, a testament to the bountiful nature of God’s lavish love for me, Kaye Pepin. He became God-With-Me.
Coming down the mountain, I was almost embarrassed to share my thoughts with anyone. They seemed somewhat narcissistic. But what I discovered was that the epiphany I’d had opened my heart to others in a way I had not anticipated. For if God loved me that way, He also loved my prickly neighbor that way, too. (For she was no more cantankerous than I, truth be told.) How could I, one who claimed to wear His name, not love her as well?
During this time, I stumbled across a verse that became increasingly more important to me. “Therefore I endure everything for the sake of the elect, that they too may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory.” (2 Tim. 2:10) Those elect, who have not yet obtained salvation, who are they? I believe they are those who in the days ahead will come to know Christ. I have many unbelievers in my life that I love desperately. What would I be willing to endure if I knew the result would be salvation for them? Anything.
I look at suffering differently now. I know that too many times my hardships are a direct result of foolish decisions on my part. I also know that God is using all kinds of trials to grow me into the person He wants me to be. And I know that every once in a while, one may come that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with someone else that The Lover cares for as much as He cares for me. I don’t relish any of them and I am usually impatient and whiny about them. But my head knows better. Gradually my heart is responding better. May I too be like my Lord, compassion in the flesh. Maybe one day a trial of mine will help carve a riverbed through a mountain pass, giving comfort to a wandering soul and glorifying the One who made it all.
In the eighth chapter of Matthew, a man with leprosy humbly knelt before Jesus. He stated simply, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” Jesus was willing. His desire to heal this man is heartwarming. The man’s faith in Christ is encouraging to us who struggle at times. But what catches my attention is Jesus’ physical response. He could have just said, “I am willing. Be clean!” In fact, these were His words. But look closely. Here was a man who had been shunned by his community. If he met someone on the road, he had to pass on the opposite side, exclaiming, “Unclean, unclean.” How long do you suppose it had been since anyone had really looked at him? Even more heartbreaking, how long do you suppose it had been since anyone had touched him? But this is exactly what God-With-Us did. Scripture tells us that He reached out and touched the man. This is not the act of an impersonal God. This is Compassion in Flesh.
One day, while we were still in Germany, I was walking along one of the alpine trails. The path had climbed uphill, and as I rounded the bend I could see the Loisach River meandering below. The sun brightened the sky above; the mountains framed the horizon. The blue of the water contrasted with the soft green of the bank on which a little Bavarian cottage sat. Nearby a small black goat ambled leisurely, the bell around his neck tinkling as he nibbled clumps of grass. This river had been flowing from the melting snow for eons, through the almost ageless mountains. So I was not the first to have my breath taken away by the panoramic view spread out in front of me. I marveled at the incredible goodness of a God toward His creatures, that He so extravagantly delights our senses for no other reason than to give us joy. I thought to myself, “How very much He loves us.”
But as I stood there, suddenly I knew it was more than just “us” that He loved. It’s not only mankind in general that He pursues and woos, and for whom He opens the floodgates of blessings. I realized, that day on the mountain, that if I were the only person on earth, God would still have created that view. If He loves mankind enough to do that, He loves me enough to do it. On a cerebral level I knew that Christ loved me, individually, enough to die for me. But that moment I understood His love in a deeper, more personal way. That spot became my own, a testament to the bountiful nature of God’s lavish love for me, Kaye Pepin. He became God-With-Me.
Coming down the mountain, I was almost embarrassed to share my thoughts with anyone. They seemed somewhat narcissistic. But what I discovered was that the epiphany I’d had opened my heart to others in a way I had not anticipated. For if God loved me that way, He also loved my prickly neighbor that way, too. (For she was no more cantankerous than I, truth be told.) How could I, one who claimed to wear His name, not love her as well?
During this time, I stumbled across a verse that became increasingly more important to me. “Therefore I endure everything for the sake of the elect, that they too may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory.” (2 Tim. 2:10) Those elect, who have not yet obtained salvation, who are they? I believe they are those who in the days ahead will come to know Christ. I have many unbelievers in my life that I love desperately. What would I be willing to endure if I knew the result would be salvation for them? Anything.
I look at suffering differently now. I know that too many times my hardships are a direct result of foolish decisions on my part. I also know that God is using all kinds of trials to grow me into the person He wants me to be. And I know that every once in a while, one may come that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with someone else that The Lover cares for as much as He cares for me. I don’t relish any of them and I am usually impatient and whiny about them. But my head knows better. Gradually my heart is responding better. May I too be like my Lord, compassion in the flesh. Maybe one day a trial of mine will help carve a riverbed through a mountain pass, giving comfort to a wandering soul and glorifying the One who made it all.
posted by Kaye @ 6:31 AM
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