Learning from Eve - Part 2

As I continue to share my thoughts about women and God, I want to clarify my intentions. I am writing about the beauty of God to be found in women and the wonder inherent in all daughters of Eve. I am not trying to lay out the different roles appropriate for men or women, biblical or otherwise. I am not brave enough to take on that topic at this time, and it isn’t really relevant to what I have been thinking about. Also, many of the characteristics I will attribute to women may not be—or even probably not—true of every woman. As with all groups of people, certain characteristics are generally true but cannot be forcibly applied in every case. Thank you for your patience with my observations, not my absolute model for what a woman has to be.

There are many things I appreciate about the Eastern Orthodox Church that I prefer over the way the church has developed in the West, but the foremost of all of them is how they view the image of God. I’m not an expert on their beliefs by any means, but they view the history of humanity through the lens of imago Dei in a way the Western Church has neglected over the centuries. Humanity has the utmost value. We are the image of God, the physical representation of God on the earth. Everything we were when we were created was a direct reflection of who God is. That, of course, was marred when we sinned, but that does not lessen its beginnings or its eventual restoration.

The fullness and wonder of the image, the likeness of God in humanity, is not only in Adam. Nor is it in exclusively in Eve. It can only be fully expressed in the interaction between the two. Each is a partial picture of God’s nature and character, and they fit together perfectly to paint God’s likeness.

Much thought has been devoted to how men are like God or how God can be seen in manhood. He is Father, warrior, protector, provider, king. I would like to take the time to find out what the feminine can teach us about who God is. The value of the image found in both man and woman is immeasurable.

Eve’s legacy, though dimmed, is not lost. It still resides in all her daughters, and someday, it will be restored to its fullness once more.

In my experience and observations, along with reading Captivating have shown me the wonder of women. They are meant to beautiful, and indeed, they are all beautiful, showing God’s glory in who they are. My wife is gorgeous, and I hope I don’t embarrass her by writing that she is. She is truly captivating, both outwardly and in who she is. I have known that for a long time, but in thinking about it lately, I have also come to understand certain things about it better. Women, including my wife, not only provide beauty in themselves, but they usually also desire to create beauty around them. It is how they were made; it is how they reflect God.

Women are enamored with loveliness. They delight in the beauty of their friends and their surroundings. How many women do you know that don’t try to make their home a beautiful and comforting place? When my wife (and my mom, when I was growing up) want the house to be clean, and the décor to be just right, and everything in its place, it’s not about being OCD or overly controlling (though some may turn it into that) it’s about an innate desire to create and maintain beauty in life. I didn’t get that growing up, so I was irritated by insistent commands that I make my bed every day (it just got messed up again that night, after all!). I finally understand that women (and some men) desire order not to irritate the people who are not naturally neat, but to create beauty.

And what is more comforting than being a child held by his mother after being hurt or scared, or a husband resting with his wife after a stressful day? Women are meant to offer the comfort God offers. They are here to tell us that everything is going to be okay. They are here to offer their softness and tenderness and make us feel better when the world turns ugly.

Of course, not all women do those things as well as others, and the desire for order can become about control, and the soothing comfort can be lost to demands for respect or allowing herself to be used as a doormat. Worry takes over and obscures the message that all will be well, and fear of rejection covers what beauty there is to offer. That is the toll taken by the Fall. But the spark of divine beauty resides in every woman, and if she lets Christ work in her, he will begin to restore what has been lost.

As a man, I am grateful for the half of the image of God found in women. Life would be dreary without it. I am grateful for the women in my life, for my mother, my sister, my wife, and now my daughter who I am so excited to meet.

Next time, I will elaborate on how I, as a man, can be the best husband, father, son, brother, and friend to the women in my life, and how they can help me be the best man I can be.

The One Where Love is Always Self-interested

It’s been a long time, but I remember high school discussions about whether altruism is possible.  We wrestled with the question of “Is it really possible to do anything without being motivated by self-interest?”  There is an episode of Friends that deals with it as well.  Phoebe wants to believe it with all her might, and she spends the episode trying to discover a way to make it work.  She finally stumbles on donating money to PBS, which she hates, and simultaneously gets Joey on TV by doing so.  She thinks she has finally done something that does  not benefit her in any way and is quite pleased about it.  Joey points out that she is gaining pleasure from doing a totally selfless act, and therefore, is gaining something by it. 

So the question is “Can we ever do something good and/or loving for someone else without ANY self-interest, without gaining anything at all by it?”

I can take care of my pregnant wife, doing things like rubbing her feet, bringing her drinks of water, doing chores, staying with her when she is sick.  None of those things are directly beneficial to me, so is that altruism? No, probably not, for each of those things reinforces her love, strengthens our relationship, and if nothing else, allows me to spend time with her.  I definitely gain from anything good I do for my wife.

What if I do something for a stranger?

I can give money to someone who asks for it, or buy a meal from the grocery store for the guy sitting outside, or donate to a charitable cause.  I can volunteer to serve food at the Rescue Mission.  I am now sacrificing time and money to help a person I don’t even know.  Surely that must be altruistic, completely selfless.  Alas, I gain recognition for doing selfless acts.  I may even gain social benefits by talking with them and interacting with them and finding a little of who they are.  I benefit.

What if I help someone anonymously?

What if I send cash to someone who needs it anonymously, or I drop money in a donation box, or do any number of things that would help someone else, but no one would know I did anything?  I still find satisfaction in knowing I did something good.  I gain.

We can up the ante a little bit and concede, ‘ok, I can’t do anything selflessly, but what about Jesus?’ What of his crucifixion?  Surely, Jesus, the perfect god-man, must have been capable of completely selfless action.

Picture the garden at Gethsemane.  Jesus is there, desperately wanting the support of his disciples (which he doesn’t get because they keep falling asleep) and falling to his knees, pleading to the Father to take away the wrath he is about to receive.  He asked that if there were ANY other way, God would show it to him, but since there was no other, he would do God’s will.  Luke describes him as being in agony over what was about to come.  His mental anguish was so great he needed an angel to comfort him and he began to sweat drops of blood.  Surely, he got no pleasure from his sacrifice, no gain by his death.

But really, there are two problems with this example.  The first is this: “Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:2).  Notice the phrase “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross.”  Jesus allowed himself to be killed because it would bring him joy! I don’t think the suffering itself was high on his list of favorite things, but he knew the results would bring him joy.  His motivation was not altruistic at all!

The second problem is that his saving work allowed his children access to him; it allowed millions of people to know and love him, establishing relationships with him.  Again, he experiences good because of the good he did for us.

So, really, is completely selfless good, pure altruism, something we would even want?  If the only perfect human who ever lived couldn’t pull it off, is it really a good thing to be entirely disinterested in the good you do?

Ask your loved ones.

I think a simple question to my wife would reveal very quickly what she would think about it.  What if I only told my wife I love her because it would make her feel good.  What if I only give her gifts because she wants them.  If I find no happiness in her presence, no genuine joy at her touch, but I only spend time with her because she wants it, would she appreciate it?  I think not.  She would be hurt that I did it mechanically, not out of my own love for her, my own emotional desire to be with her and please her.  True love rejoices at others’ joy.  True love finds pleasure in pleasing others.  True love finds no cost too great in order to bring good to the objects of its affection.  True love, while not merely self-interested, finds great gain in providing benefit to others.

Remember, when Jesus commands us to love one another as the second part of the greatest commandment, he does not say “Love your neighbor and deny yourself.”  He says “Love your neighbor as yourself.”  The two are not mutually exclusive.  They are necessary pairs in the endeavor to spread love. 

Going back to the original question, “Can we ever do something good and/or loving for someone else without ANY self-interest, without gaining anything at all by it?” I would have to say the answer is “no.” But that isn’t something to mourn, as if humanity has failed, and no real love can be known.  We can rejoice that true love is beneficial for everyone involved, even when we sacrifice, and especially when it is grounded in the only pure source of love, God himself.

Grieving for Bin Laden: Why the Death of a Terrorist is a Cosmic Tragedy

As I encounter almost endless commentary about the recent demise of the mastermind behind thousands of deaths, having watched Obama’s announcement, and seen footage of mass celebration outside the Whitehouse, the uneasiness in my soul continues to grow. 

Osama bin Laden deserved to die. He was a twisted, evil man, darkened by unimaginable sin and marred by diabolical hatred.  His death is a victory for justice.

Yet I mourn for him.

God’s precious child, whom he knew as he formed him in the womb, has perished.  Even more, as far as we know, he is now eternally separated from his Father, condemned to suffer forever.

He deserved his fate.

But that fact makes it no less tragic.  His death and what it entails are the grim conclusion to his abominable life.  A man that was created in God’s image spent his years steeped in violence, hatred, suffering, fear, and pride.  If anyone in our lifetime has been characterized by sin and death, he fits the bill.  That, too, is something to mourn.  A man that was created to represent God on earth dedicated himself to assaulting God’s character and creation, demolishing the light within himself and snuffing out thousands of other people who were all dim reflections of their maker.

The truth is I deserve that fate as well.  You do too.  Every one of us has committed violence against God’s creation and terrorized the beauty of God’s divine nature residing in us.  But God chooses moment by moment to spare me and you, not because we deserve to live or have the right to breathe, but because he is merciful and filled with grace and compassion.  We still live because he is love.

He is also absolutely holy, and at some point, everyone who is characterized by the evil will die.  We should praise God that he has given us a way to receive his own goodness and set aside the evil and injustice we have taken upon ourselves.  He does this, too, because his is love.

And because he is love, he wants all of us to make this choice, and I believe he mourns for everyone who reaches the end and remains bound by the chains of his own evil, choosing eternal death, separation from our Father and everlasting suffering.

Death is the ultimate enemy conquered by Christ, and it is a cosmic tragedy when it claims a victim, regardless of how deserving.

I believe because God is love, he even mourns for Osama bin Laden, and though we can be grateful he no longer can harm anyone else, we should be careful not to rejoice at the things that make God grieve.

EDIT:
As I interacted with someone on Facebook about this a little more, I realized I should probably nuance this a bit. The reason I wrote this blog was in reaction to all the people out there who are unrestrainedly excited that someone just died. At the same time, I don't want to be one-sided either. Justice is a good thing.  As an attempt to balance what I am saying, here is some of what I said on Facebook in that conversation:

"I have to acknowledge that God also loves justice. And part of that justice involves protecting his other children from the ones who are violent and hateful. And, ultimately, that justice leads to the death of those who refuse to turn to him. I can praise God that he has protected those who would have been harmed if Bin Laden continued to live, and I can praise him that he has acted according to his perfect nature and character.

I think the short version is that I mourn for the man, but I can rejoice in God's justice, which is good, for God is good."

Following Jesus: A Beginning (Part 2 of 2)

“When we are called to follow Christ, we are summoned to an exclusive attachment to his person.  The grace of his call bursts all the bonds of legalism.  It is a gracious call, a gracious commandment.  It transcends the difference between the law and the gospel.  Christ calls, the disciple follows: that is grace and commandment in one.  ‘I will walk at liberty, for I seek thy commandments’ (Ps. 119.45).”

I have started this second part of this blog with another quote from The Cost of Discipleship because I think Bonhoeffer has really nailed the foundational ideology underlying what I am trying develop into a way of approaching life in Christ.  Following Jesus isn’t about obeying commands, as if the point were to keep a list of rules, but it is composed of obeying Jesus, making obedience the means to the goal of unity with Jesus.  Fortunately for us, Jesus sums up his commands as “The most important is, 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. ³⁰ And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ ³¹ The second is this: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these" (Mark 12:29-31). He put it another way in John: “³⁴ A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. ³⁵ By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another" (John 13:34-35).

While these commands from Jesus are beautiful and wonderful, they are abstract enough not to be very helpful for people who want more specific guidelines on what were are supposed to do as disciples (followers) of Jesus.  They are more of a broad approach to life rather than a structured instruction manual.  This, I believe, is on purpose for two reasons.  The first is that as soon as you set down a concrete command for life, someone will create a heartless law out of it.  The second is that the details of a life characterized by love will play out different in every individual to one degree or another.  Nevertheless, I think for the person hearing Christ’s call, a pragmatic outline of what answering the call is like will be welcomed and helpful, perhaps necessary for some to know how to move forward.

“Christianity without the living Christ is inevitably Christianity without discipleship, and Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ.”

This powerful and difficult quote from The Cost of Discipleship sets the framework for how to embark on a life of following Jesus.  Using Bonhoeffer’s terms, following Jesus incorporates two parts: discipleship and the living Christ.  I see it as two streams of thought or two sides of the same coin.  On the one hand, we have obedience.  On the other, we have immersion in Christ. 

Having faith, we must set out to obey, to live the Christian life.  But how?  Another way to ask this is “What is God’s will for me?”  This question has the power to move us on to great things or to paralyze us in doubt.  The first step is not to wait for some manifestation of God in power and glory before we obey, but simply to obey what we can already see clearly.  All of us have some aspects of our life we can quickly identify as not quite in line with God’s character or the command to love.  Whatever it is, whether bitterness toward someone, an addiction, some continued act of selfishness or disregard for someone else, we can clearly see that we must move to correct it.  We may not have a complete picture of what our life is to become, but we can take these steps (whether large or small) toward obedience.

At the same time, we will ultimately not get very far if we neglect the other side of the coin.  The other side is where the living Christ plays into our lives.  Fortunately for us, Jesus is not dead but alive, and able to interact with and transform us.  Immersion in Christ is the key to making the whole thing work.  This is where my thoughts on monasticism come to into play.  What we call spiritual disciplines are the primary means to immersing ourselves in Christ, unifying us with the Spirit of God.  Consistent prayer, reading and meditating on Scripture, solitude, self examination, being in and seeking God’s presence.  These are all integral parts of connecting with God so that the Spirit can transform our hearts and minds into being like Jesus.  These are the individual practices, but there are necessary community practices as well.  We are commanded to “love one another,” which is logically impossible if we never come in contact with others.  We need to serve each other, speak into each other’s life, and allow trusted fellow disciples in so they can help us along the way.  The spiritual practices that shape this part include communion, worship, confession, encouragement, generosity, and honesty both when it’s pleasant and when it’s hard.

Once again, these practices are the tools we use for the goal of immersing ourselves in Jesus.  Chris Leonardo once said this to me regarding these practices: “Making the effort to maintain spiritual practices carries little cost, for when we fail, we learn, and when we succeed, we find God.”  We might struggle to keep these disciplines, and we don’t need to feel guilty.  We just need to keep trying, and when we succeed, we encounter Jesus in a way that transforms us, empowering us to keep going.

By immersing ourselves in Christ through these practices, we are transformed, which gives us a heart and mind that are closer to Jesus’ heart and mind.  The result of that change is that we will see more of what needs to change in our lives, adding to the list of clearly seen things to obey.  In this way the two streams inform each other.  Obeying clears away some of the hindrances to immersion in Christ, and immersing ourselves in Christ clarifies our sight with regard to ourselves and our lives.  Of course, these processes are not alternating endeavors.  I don’t obey so that I can then experience Christ, then experience Christ to help me obey.  They have to happen simultaneously.  If you wait to do one before you undertake the other, you will never get anywhere.

While I have attempted to give some practical principles, the details remain abstract because each person has different struggles and places for growth in which to obey.  Each person will find God in slightly different ways and through different spiritual practices, though we all ought to participate in some of them, others may only be helpful for some people and maybe only for a time.  I could also go further into what kinds of obedience and how the various disciplines connect with this whole process, and maybe I will later on, but these are the basic ideas of what I have been thinking about.  I hope this discussion (which has turned out longer than I anticipated) makes sense and is helpful for taking the next steps for someone.  I know that it has helped me make an important transition in my own approach to following Jesus, and though I have certainly not mastered the process, it is a beginning for me as I attempt to be a more complete disciple of Jesus.

Be sure to read up on Aaron's perspective on our conversation here.

Following Jesus: A Beginning (Part 1 of 2)

Following Jesus is beautiful in its simplicity and stunning in its complexity.  Jesus lets loose his call, and we can either answer it and follow, or ignore it and go on down the road our lives were headed before.  This is where the simplicity lies: it is an either/or decision.  There are only two options.  Many people who self identify as Christians attempt to find a middle ground of following Jesus in some of what they do and think, but I think they deceive themselves, for this middle ground does not exist.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer describes three biblical examples of such people in The Cost of Discipleship:

⁵⁷ As they were going along the road, someone said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go." ⁵⁸ And Jesus said to him, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head."

 ⁵⁹ To another he said, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, let me first go and bury my father." ⁶⁰ And Jesus said to him, "Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God."

 ⁶¹ Yet another said, "I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home." ⁶² Jesus said to him, "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:57-62).

In each of these cases, the men who spoke with Jesus wanted to follow him, but only if it were on their own terms, meaning ultimately, they wanted to follow themselves and receive the benefits of association with Jesus.

Additionally, Bonhoeffer asserts, “only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes.” At first we may be reticent to assent to both of these truths at once (particularly the second), fearing that we add a requirement of works for salvation, but I don’t think it changes the requirements for salvation at all.  We are saved by God’s grace, through our faith in Christ.  Yet, to have faith is an act of obedience in itself, and true faith will certainly continue to produce obedience after the first moment a person declares his faith. 

Typical language trying to reconcile a spiritual life grounded in faith and grace with the impetus for godly lifestyles involves the language of gift and response.  It goes something like this: God has given me salvation through the gift of grace and undeserved love; I have accepted that gift through faith in Jesus; as a result of my faith, I begin to love Jesus and am grateful for all he has done for me; that love I have for Jesus motivates me to express it through obedience to his commands and conformity to his ways.  I have little argument with this way of thinking.  I think it is helpful, even beautiful, and ultimately, biblical.  Where I want to push back a little is that it may not offer much in the way of practical application.

The practical life application I have come to is a product of several weeks’ worth of thinking, particular about the topics of discipleship and monasticism, and they came together through reading the first couple chapters of The Cost of Discipleship.  However, I didn’t really draw it into a coherent thought process until I was trying to discuss the bits and pieces of my thoughts with Aaron Smith.

I’ll share what I came up with in another post, which I will create shortly.

Love and Rejection, A Tale of Missional Living

This morning I went to church early to rehearse with the band, and Chrissy went to do homework at a nearby coffee shop until it was time to join us at the Lab.  While she was there she overheard a conversation involving the two baristas and a patron that came in for a few minutes.  If you don't know anything about our church community, here are some of the salient aspects that have relevance for their conversation:

• The Evergreen Community is self described as a "missional, holistic, Christian community"
• We meet in the Lucky Labrador Brew Pub at two locations before the pubs open on Sunday mornings
• We are a church community that seeks to guide people in a relationship with Jesus that leads to growth and transformation, from whatever stage of their spiritual journey they may currently occupy
• One of the key goals is to be a place that is safe particularly for people who may be wary of attending a more traditional church in a church building, whether because they have never been part of a church body before, they have had previous bad experiences with other churches, or any other reason

The conversation Chrissy overheard was disappointing to say the least.  The third member, the patron of the coffee shop, as it turned out was a staff member of the Lucky Lab. He was telling the baristas about the ridiculous situation he had to put up with, namely working in a pub that hosted church that morning.  The baristas were incredulous, and they all shared a good laugh at the stupidity of such a phenomenon.  They even joked about checking it out, much the same way one would talk about wearing a frying pan as a hat. 

This painful conversation was disappointing for a number of reasons.  First of all, it seems that people of the very group we most desire to reach find us not only unappealing but even laughable.  Second, one of the people involved in the conversation was a member of the pub's staff, in which our gatherings have been happening for years, and though we knew they were never excited about our presence, we would have at least hoped they might have become less hostile through direct observation and some personal contact with us.  Finally, if a church like ours that is designed to be gentle and welcoming to those who might normally feel like outsiders, how is it that we seem to have failed so miserably with these three people, and is it even possible for any church community to accomplish this goal?

Chrissy told me about her experience just before the gathering started, so I had it running through my mind as Dustin began to preach about the Sermon on the Mount, specifically Matthew 5:38-48.  Particularly relevant was when he began talking about loving one's enemy and praying for those who persecute us.  He pointed out that if we are not supposed to hate, but love, our enemies, what makes them enemies is not how we feel about or treat them, but how they feel about us.  He told us about a previous church where he had ministered.  They had been the first church in their area to meet in a public school, and there was some serious hostility.  The lead pastor was on the school board and was faced with one other board member in particular who simply hated him and the church, but the pastor always treated the other man like a friend.  What a perfect example of obedience to Jesus' words, and it seemed effortless for him!

While this story is encouraging, it didn't end with him winning over the hostile board member.  He simply obeyed and loved the man because that was the Christlike, loving thing to do.  God doesn't promise us that living like Jesus will make everything better, and everyone will love us for it.  On the contrary, he promises that people will hate us for it and treat us badly.  But what makes it worth it is pleasing Jesus and being able to show Jesus' love to everyone, some of whom just might accept it and turn to Jesus because of it!

I will begin and continue to pray for those who work at the Lucky Lab and have to put up with our admittedly strange customs each week, as well as for the baristas and everyone else in our sphere of influence who may love us, hate us, or fall somewhere in between.  I hope that our whole church community, including me, grows so much like Jesus that loving everyone around us, including those who think we are ridiculous, becomes our natural response.

To be or not to be... Racist?

What does it mean to be racist? I know I typically think of extreme cases like the KKK or even just thinking that people of other races are dirt and treating them accordingly. But I don't actually know anyone like that. Does real racism--or bigotry of any variety-- have to be so overt, or is it more subtle in most people? Can you truly believe that people of every nation, color, faith, gender, and class have the same intrinsic value, deserve the same opportunities, and are capable of the same things as people who fit your own profile and still be a bigot? I think the answer might be 'yes.'

Dr. Paul Metzger spoke yesterday at Evergreen about racism. He told us that Portland is full of racism. At first that statement seems absurd, but I think racism outside of the South is more subtle, but no less terrible. The way Paul put it is that (if you're not white) in the South, it doesn't matter how close you get, it matters how high you get. In the North (or the West Coast), it doesn't matter how high you get, it matters how close you get. I think that makes a lot of sense: it doesn't matter what color an executive, or senator, or president is to someone in the Pacific Northwest, but people don't necessarily want to live in the same neighborhoods as people from different backgrounds, or sit next to them on a bus, or have to live with them.

I think Bob really nailed the issue when he took it a step further than race and pointed out the same tendencies toward varying classes and economic backgrounds. That expansion is where it began to feel like there might be something to work on in me. Of course, I don't think of people as beneath me who have less; that's not the issue. My tendency is more along the lines of falling back on stereotypes in situations where I don't have an opportunity or reason to know someone as an individual. For example, I absolutely do not believe that someone on the street is any more likely to harm me because that person is of a particular race. However, if he dresses like he is part of a gang, then I'm more likely to be wary around him. Unfortunately, maybe someone truly in that lifestyle would do harm to a stranger, but to most people, that urban fashion is just a means of expression and fitting in to a group. At the point I allow myself to make a judgment about any person, based on any external criteria, I take a step toward bigotry.

Now, I could justify my caution around rough looking guys--regardless of race--and say, "Since I can't know who this person really is, better safe than sorry," and I could easily avoid contact without doing him any harm. But what about someone who likes music that I hate or comedy that I find distasteful and inane. Maybe somehow I find a person who values everything I just can't stand, and loves the things that seem worthless and even crude, idiotic, or destructive to me. At that point I have a choice. Do I humble myself enough to say, "Maybe there is value in this I just can't appreciate, or maybe neither is better than the other, or maybe his way sucks, but something has led him there, and before I make a judgment about him as a person, he deserves a chance to show me who he is," or do I simply (perhaps subtly and without consciously thinking about it) decide that since I like things that are good and hate things that are bad (whether morally, qualitatively, or however else) and he likes what I hate, he must be bad?

The next step comes in defining the opposite of prejudice. Is it tolerance? I can easily tolerate a person without valuing them or even treating them well. The problem with tolerance (as Dr. Metzger pointed out) is that it can often just as easily be described as indifference. True opposite of bigotry is not tolerance; it is love. Love reaches out and touches someone. Love doesn't ignore someone who needs us. Love actively seeks the betterment of its object, and it does it without demeaning or degrading. Loving someone from a different race or social background isn't simply abstaining from seeking harm or elevating yourself above another person, but it is giving yourself to that person in a big way or small.

Openness, vulnerability, and personal risk characterize a life free of prejudice. That's not an easy way to live, even if you don't bear any hard feelings toward different people. I know I have work to do in myself, and I'm sure it will take a lifetime, but if I can make progress and show people Jesus' love, it will be a life well spent.