Facts may be true,
But they are never big enough
To hold the truth.
The question is not, ‘Is it true?’
But, ‘Are you true?’
That is where the real difference is born.
Whom does God love more
The mistaken, but earnest, heretic
Or the proudly intolerant orthodox?
God loves us both, infinitely.
That is the place we must start.
That is the place I must start.
In God’s love.
In love with God.
In love (with God’s love) with you.
We may build walls with rules
Or circle our wagons in self-protection
But the rain falls on us all:
The just and the unjust,
The correct and the befuddled.
So, we must find a way
To live our best lives
In a world that contains us both.
Try as I might, I will not change you,
Nor you change me, with arguments.
Yet, I know I will change with time.
I know because I have changed, already, many times.
You will change too.
And when we lean into love,
The change is for the better.
The father waits for the prodigal,
Even if the big brother does not.
Even if the big brother was secretly glad the prodigal left.
Even if the big brother left the father, too
And just didn’t know it.
And the father wants us to party together,
When the prodigal makes it home,
When the big brother hears the music,
And wonders why it is not for him.
It is, really, for neither, alone.
The party is for reunion.
I have faith, I have hope, that love will win.
I just wish it would happen sooner rather than later.
I dare to think that is God’s hope, too.
That we would both come to ourselves
And come to the party.
Is it possible
To hold within your heart
A nugget of defiant joy?
To deeply know
God’s deepest love
For all the deepest parts of you.
To hold to love
Despite the angry shouts
And sadly shaking heads.
To welcome God’s love
So fully, so truly
That it spills out to others.
Even – though they cannot see it,
And don’t know how to receive it,
To those with sadly shaking heads.
That is the miracle of grace.
That we can offer love to one
Who cannot love us in return.
Father, forgive them,
For they do not know
What they are doing.
Let me be a conduit of grace
Let it flow to me and through me
To all creation.
It is. (amazing) It is.
Kingdom is a foreign term,
The metaphor of a different time.
It is so far removed from what I understand
That it no longer serves me well.
When I think of kingdom,
I think of coercion,
Absolute, immutable rule.
What if there were a different kind of kingdom –
Hidden in plain sight, growing up among us,
Tiny, at first, like a mustard seed?
What if it were a land of healing and hope,
Where little children, and prostitutes, eagerly lead the way?
It would be an upside down land,
Where the last come first
And every lost thing is found.
Camels and riches would make it hard to enter in,
For what is truly yours is what you give away.
It would be like living in a foreign land.
I’d need to learn its culture,
Change my currency.
I’d need a whole new language.
But, somehow, I know I would be home.
Do you think I could find asylum, there?
Could this be true?
The crucifixion was unnecessary.
God did not require it – we did.
It was not God who demanded sacrifice as the gateway to reconciliation.
God’s power to love and forgive was never held hostage to some cruel death.
Love has always been more powerful than sin.
We are the ones who required blood-sacrifice.
We believed so deeply that the price of sin was death
That we would not accept God’s love and reconciliation without it.
So, Christ, who came for reconciliation,
Who came to show us love,
Met our conditions.
God’s desire for relationship was so deep
That God yielded to our obstinate delusions
To prove in ways that only we demanded
The awesome, terrible depth of love.
God does not love us more – or less – because of the crucifixion.
But we can now accept forgiveness
And find a way to receive and return that love.
That is God’s desire – that we would love in return.
God will do whatever it takes to help us find the way to love.