Fearless Love

“If I’d have to choose her or the sun I’d be one nocturnal son of a gun”

Harvey Dent, one man in a long line of Bat-villians, is one of the most curious simply because he’s unfinished. Every super villain that the Dark Knight is asked to fight has had a clear click to the dark side. There is no conflict. For Harvey, aka Two-Face, life is much more complicated. No doubt the man has lost his sense, but half of the man originally thought of as the district attorney that was going to clean up gotham city remains while literally the other half is taken my a maniacal side bent on destruction. On his own he could be used as an illustration of the battle that goes on in all of us on a regular basis. There are always opposing sides of our psyche struggling to govern our decisions. Harvey has given up his divine right to make his decisions to the coin he carries in his pocket. 

The two-headed coin, once a humorous prop carried by Dent, was also damaged in the acid that created this character. Like Harvey, it was damaged only on one side. When there is a question of doing good or evil this coin is taken out, flipped, and the choice based on whether it’s the face of liberty or her damaged face on the other side.

I’ve spent my life on love. I’ve spoken of it, written about it, fought for it, longed for it, believed it it, and had my heart damaged by that belief. The thing that I’ve discovered on my journey is that I’m not alone. None of us enter creation without the space for love. It’s how we were designed. We are build to seek it, give it, celebrate it, and rest in it. Love gives us the strength to do great things. In love and for love we can climb mountains, fight dragons, and feel like flying. Sacrifices don’t feel like sacrifices when love drives the giving. When we feel love we freely give it away from the overflow of our hearts. We can laugh, dance, sing, and embrace when love is allowed to govern our lives.

It’s how life is supposed to be. 

As with most things in life, there are two-faces to this coin. With all of the passion and freedom and uncontrollable smiling that comes when one is in the arms of love, there is scar tissue on the other side. When love is taken from us, it leaves a mark, every time. When we hear the message that love needs to be earned it bends and twists. Too many years and we start to forget what the face of liberty - the face of love - even looks like. 

That is when we break. 

That is when we become afraid.

I’ve often heard the phrase “the opposite of love isn’t hate - it’s indifference.” I disagree. My experience has taught me that the same thing that drives indifference is the same fuel for hate. We are afraid. Fear is the flip side of love because, for whatever reason, we have locked people out of our hearts. The reasons might be completely understandable. People that have been abused or bullied or rejected can, it can be argued, have valid reason for pulling up the drawbridge. Some choose to go in and blow out the candles and are never heard from again. Our wounded brothers or sisters settle into a life of movement but have little vision of anything beyond the waking and sleeping. There are creature comforts used to help numb the pain, but the hope for something that satisfies to the soul has too high a price tag. They might not be particularly nasty, but they have made a decision that the risk of love is simply too much. Others are so afraid that they actually do turn destructive. They work to destroy themselves or others - again because the risk of love is just simply too heavy for them to carry. We lose so many people this way. Bullies who are afraid of the loss of their position or power abuse the weak or the different, resulting in further losses either of spirit or life. 

Love takes courage. It takes courage to both love and be loved…especially when your other face seems damaged beyond repair.

So, I’ll just say it clearly. I do believe that a fearless love is possible. What I am not saying is that there is a love where the emotion of fear is non-existent. What I am saying is that love is worth the fight. Love is worth the effort. I, like you, wonder if I will ever be loved fearlessly and each time it seems to go, I add one more scar to the other side of my coin. Every time I set out to love and be loved I’m scared to death. I’m scared that I wont be received or that I'll hurt again.  In some ways it seems easier to live in the castle doing all of my loving with a closed drawbridge. 

But I’m not designed for that. 

We are not designed for that.

In my faith there is an image of love. It’s of an obscure jewish rabbi who had been bullied and beaten and is now hanging above the ground waiting to die. In the writings that reflect on the meaning of his death it’s said that his death was a demonstration of love…of a fearless love. It’s not that there wasn’t anything to fear. There was pain, rejection, humiliation, and the distinct possibility that no one would be interested in this gift of a relationship with their creator. 

But he believed we were worth the risk. That is the kind of love, if it can be embraced, that can heal the most broken heart. It’s a love that would stop at nothing to find the one it loves. The loved just needs to open the drawbridge. There is a world of people that simply want to know they are loved.

Pain causes us to fear…of that there is no doubt. The question is which side of the coin will we let govern our lives. Grace offers a love that is healing, safe, and inspires us to love big. It causes us to look for the right hearts and learn to embrace them and let them embrace us.

Sometimes it requires the greatest courage to simply let ourselves be loved.

Columbus Day

As Christopher Columbus stood on the deck of the Santa Maria looking at the world of water that had been his same view for months, I have no doubt that he wondered if this quest was going to end in failure. I imagine that he considered his bed back home, a warm meal, and the feeling of being celebrated at court. Now the world was wet, cold, moldy, and filled with sailors on the brink of mutiny.

What had he gotten himself into?

The motivation for the ones who paid for this mission was clear. Money and power would go to the country or the company who discovered and controlled a short cut to the wealth of the indies. However, none of them ascended the gangplank of the small vessels that was taking a never-travelled western path across the Atlantic Ocean. Columbus stood to gain it’s sure, but something more than wealth or fame has to motivate a man to take on a quest for which there are no guarantees. 

There would have been a key point in the journey that the faith of this mission and the man who held the lives of the men who joined him was tested. That point was when the supplies were halfway gone. Move further west and there is no return. That is when the adventure becomes real. I imagine the quiet deck that day. Everyone knew that this was either a ship of heroes or dead men.

At 2am, after 5 weeks of sailing, a sailor on the Pinta sighted land; a small island in what is now The Bahamas. The quest proved itself out and Christopher Columbus became a legend.

Of course, now the historical debates can begin. Was the world really a better place now that there is a new world? It didn’t seem true for the native peoples who inhabited the invaded paradise. This was business for the ones who were to come after this October day in 1492. The discovery was not always honored and people lost their lives. Much suffering came to many as a result. Even Columbus himself proved to be a harsh ruler as the governor of Hispaniola. It’s true that sometimes we misuse the treasure we find even when it was the very thing that drove us to begin with. However, on this day we celebrate the faith that made a man cross the uncharted ocean.

I don’t know if quest or adventure lies in all of us. Many seem satisfied with a life that never progresses much past the place they were born. There is beauty in that kind of peace to be sure. However, there are those of us who look out over the ocean and believe. We believe that there is something that lives on the other side of the horizon and as the sun sets we want to hitch a ride just to see the truth. 

I know my quest. It’s driven by a stubbornly held belief that Eden exists and there is life and deep love in the world. I’m looking for truth that matches the thumbprint on my soul and a voice to tell my children about what I find. I’ve burned bridges and rations on my journey and have passed the point of no return. There are many who feel I’ve lost my mind or have become a disappointment on a fools errand. Sometimes, when the storm is raging, the rations low, or I can see nothing but water for weeks, I’m tempted to question. But, even with my knees starting to tremble, I hold fast the wheel and pray for wind and solid ground.

Then, when my toes sink into the sand, I pray I honor what I’ve found.

This journey is one of preparation. The miles make me stronger and the struggle makes me worthy. I could have gone back…but the call has always been forward. 

I’m hungry. 

I’m tired. 

But the winds are changing, the water getting warmer, my heart beating faster, and birds are traveling with us. These are the whispers from God that we aren’t far now.

We are almost home.

The Same As The Rest

So, this week I've been struck by the story of Tyler Clementi, if you don't know his story, shame on you. I've read the posts. I know many people died that day in unjust ways, heroic ways, and natural ways. Every life mattered. This one is special, not because of Tyler's sexuality per se, but that we still live in a world where people find it hard to keep on living. As a Christian minister, I can't help but be struck by the role that the church has played in creating an environment that someone's sexuality can be considered odd enough to prank. I'm angry for the lack of space that the body of Christ has offered to kids who are trying to discover who they are. This past year, a colleague and I attended a convention of christian youth workers. One afternoon we attended a panel of ministry to gay teenagers. I assumed the group would be discussing how to care for them, help them self-identify, protect them, etc. Instead, the questions surrounded the idea of what to do when one of "them" enters the youth group. What do you do? How to you treat them? I watched in amazement as the discussions focused on the sexuality of the kid - someone going so far as to say "love the sinner, hate the sin". It was only my partner who began to bring sanity back when she said "You treat a gay teenager the same way you treat a straight teenager - you love them".  I wish I could tell you that everyone sighed and said "oh, yeah...thanks". But arguments ensued. I was dumfounded.

I have no desire here to be eloquent. I want it to be made very clear where I stand and what I believe our call to kids is supposed to be. Our call is to love every single teenager who wants us to love them - not in spite of who they are but BECAUSE of who they are. We tell them about Jesus and invite them on the adventure of faith with us. We protect them, celebrate them, and be the first one in anyones face who dares to say a word against them.

As Jesus went with Tyler into the river His heart broke. Not because this kid was gay, but because there was room in His house at his table and no one ever told him so.

God forgive us.