Love and Fear

I saw a bumper sticker at Whole Foods yesterday...

Let me pause to say that I know you are automatically thinking "Tari saw a bumper sticker that was so far to the political left it made her head spin around 360." But you'd be wrong, because this is Houston. And while there are more than the usual percentage of "Democracy Now!" bumper stickers at Whole Foods, there are also quite a few other points of view, as this piece illustrates.

So, back to the bumper sticker. It read:

"Most people who plan on turning to God in the eleventh hour die at 10:30."

I've been chewing on that one off and on for a while, and I have this to say:

Yes, I will admit, the Bible does discuss the necessity of being ready for God's return. The parable of the wise and foolish women with their oil lamps comes to mind right away. It's a valid point, and the idea that one should follow God faithfully because no one understands his timing is certainly not heretical.

But. However. On the other hand.

As CS Lewis put it very succinctly, we are always moving either closer or farther away from God. There is no stasis in life. Our thoughts and actions propel us in one direction or the other, and we need to be mindful at all times of that direction. As an aside, I have to tell you that Two loves it when we talk about this subject; he turns one light off in my room and walks back and forth between the light side of the room and the dark side of the room, thinking about what it all means (and talking all the while, of course). What Lewis wrote is also what the Orthodox Church teaches quite clearly. Our lives are meant to be a journey in which we move closer to God and become more like him: this process is called "theosis" and is the center of Orthodox theology and praxis. It is the reason we fast and pray. So we have at least two Christian traditions, both teaching the same thing: the necessity of living a life that brings one closer to God, both in action and thought.

Where does fear fit into that picture? If our work in life is to become more like God, how does acting based on the fear of damnation - as this bumper sticker is clearly encouraging people to do - bring us closer to Him? Is God a god of fear (in the "terrified" sense of the word - not "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom" sense. Darn English language)? No, He isn't. Perfect love casts out fear, doesn't it? And God is more than anything else the embodiment of love. And seeking Him, following after Him, becoming more like Him, should be a process that fills us with love and light, that heals us as our habits of sin fall away from us slowly.

What do we want others to think of us as Christians? What do we want them to think motivates our decision to draw closer to God? Do we want to preach fear or love? This isn't just a question of catching more flies with honey than with vinegar. This is for real: who on earth wants to draw closer to a Creater of whom (s)he is terrified? Instead of hapharzardly scaring the pants off people, let's instead show them God's love, the power He has to heal our souls from the scars of sin, and the mercy He waits so patiently to drop like a balm on the head of the broken.

Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself

P.G. Wodehouse wasn't necessarily known for his deep thoughts, especially on love. Remember the "Ickenham Method" that Uncle Fred always proposed? Grab the lady by the wrist, waggle her about a bit, say something pithy like "my mate", and shower her upturned face with kisses. You have to admit, it's a bit on the short side of romantic. But last night I'm reading along in the first of the Blandings Castle novels, Something Fresh, and there of all places is a description of falling in love that I decide I simply must share. Mostly I wanted to share it with One, who needs to start socking these things away for future reference. A good passage like this may come in handy one day, 10 years from now, when he's wondering to himself: "Self, is it this young woman who I really love? What, then, is love?" And all those other thoughts that my Can I Overthink This Some More child will likely have about such things.

Here's the set up: Ashe and Joan, impoverished writers and neighbors in London, are traveling to Blandings Castle as temporary servants, the goal of which employment is only fully explained by reading the whole dang book (something I highly recommend, by the way). They arrive on the cold, dark, windy train platform, and while waiting for the cart to take them and the luggage to the Castle, Ashe sees Joan smile and has an epiphany:

"He did not wish the station platform of Market Blandings to become suddenly congested with Red Indians, so that he might save Joan's life, and he did not wish to give up anything at all. But he was conscious, to the very depths of his being, that a future in which Joan did not figure would be so insupportable as not to bear considering, and in the immediate present, he very strongly favored the idea of clasping Joan in his arms and kissing her till further notice. Mingled with these feelings was an excited gratitude to her for coming to him with that electric smile on her face; a stunned realization that she was a thousand times prettier than he had ever imagined: and a humility which threatened to make him loose his clutch on the steamer truck and roll about at her feet, yapping like a dog."

Do you think that's a good place for One to start, 10 years hence? Me too.

"My Dad and I Share the Same Shadow"

Ann Althouse posted this, and I had to copy it in here:



What a beautiful relationship between father and son! Condolences to Mr. Peek, whose son Kim passed away December 19th, at 58.

A Sweet Valentine

Yes, I know it's almost July, but read this - just go ahead. You'll be glad you did.

"It took us a long time to understand how blessed we were and from whom such blessings flow. The understanding made us even happier and more grateful, but it also forced humility on us. If we could claim no credit for what made our union good, we could lay no blame on others whose unions went bad. We have been poor and rich together, crazy and sane, mournful and joyous, and I can think of half a hundred times we might have gone down the wrong road or, even worse, failed to turn back and find the right one. If we fared well, it wasn't because we were wise - it certainly wasn't because I was wise. It was only, I think, that the power of what we felt for each other schooled us to trust in love. Love over money, love over politics, love over fashion and philosophies of life: our love - and, in our love, God's - over all."

Anyhow I Love You

Husband has been singing this song to me for close to 19 years, without actually having heard it himself before:



As I've said before, I grew up a little nervous. Not just about God, but about most everything. Due to a whole bunch of circumstances I won't go into right now, I'm always a little afraid of being left. Husband is the most patient man in the world; he knows my irrational fears and he quietly reassures me that

"Just you wait until tomorrow when you wake up with me at your side and find I haven't lied about nothing."

Listening to him tell me he loves me is a balm to my heart. Not only that, loving him and being loved back, building that trust together, has helped me accept the love that Christ has for me.

Thank you God for my loving and gentle Husband!

To My Husband

Dance with me?