How We Are Loved

How We Are Loved--March 28, 2019

"For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person--though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us." [Romans 5:6-8]

God is not Miss Hannigan, and we are not Little Orphan Annie.

In case it's been a while since you last saw the musical (whether the 1982 version with Carol Burnett as Miss Hannigan, or 2014's version with Cameron Diaz in an updated version of the story and character), the story of Annie begins with the optimistic title character and a gaggle of other girls living their hard-knock life in a run-down orphanage (the 2014 version with Quvenzhane Wallis as Annie makes it an overcrowded foster home), under the "care" (or apathy) of the mean-spirited and bitter Miss Hannigan.

In any version of the story, while Miss Hannigan does technically provide food (which is barely edible) and shelter (which is hardly adequate) for the girls, she is absolutely ruthless when it comes to rubbing in how "grateful" they should all be that she has taken them in at all.  Miss Hannigan goes out of her way to make Annie and the other girls know they are a drag on her life, that they are wretched and unwanted, and that they are unworthy of the attention and resources she gives them.

There is no love, in other words, for Annie and her friends--only the shame and guilt that they aren't worthy of the good things she does for them (which aren't very good).  Miss Hannigan is bitter, conniving, and self-interested, and only looks for ways to get labor or money from the girls in her care.

And, again, just to be clear--this is NOT how God loves us.  

I need to say that because the notion that Paul touches on here in Romans can either be used to speak a beautiful grace, or mis-used to sound like God only grudgingly saves humanity,  like we are a burden God never wanted and can't stand.  When Paul says that Christ died for us when we were "ungodly" and "sinners," the point isn't to beat us up or exploit us, a la Miss Hannigan.  The movie character lays it on thick that Annie and her friends are unworthy, because she wants to lay guilt and shame on them so they won't ask for any better treatment.  If she can convince them that they don't deserve genuine love, they won't speak up when they don't get it.  But that's NOT how Paul intends for us to hear his description of God's love.  Just the opposite, actually--Paul wants us to know just how precious we are to God, that Christ died for us even when we didn't bring other perks or payback to the table.

Sometimes, to be very honest, we Christians pile on the self-deprecation because we think it is the same thing as holiness.  Sometimes we give the impression that wallowing in talk about being a "wretch" or a "worm" is the truest mark of piety, and that if you don't talk that way about yourself, it is a sign of sinful pride.  But Paul's intention here in Romans 5 isn't to focus on us or our rottenness, so much as it underscore the unconditional love of God.  The difference is important.  

It is the difference between me telling my children, "You're lucky I put up with you, because nobody else in the world would," and saying to them, "I love you already, just as you are, on the days when you are kind and sweet and on the days when you are ornery and crabby, no matter what." 

And that's the vital message Paul is trying to get across.  God's love reaches out to us--in fact, was swallowed up in death for us--even when we (still!) turn our backs on God in stubborn, crabby, orneriness. That is good news to be celebrated, shared, and shouted from the rooftops.  But it does not carry with it the requirement that you have to beat yourself up with melodramatic self-loathing in the name of spirituality first before those words of grace can be spoken.

So, let's say it, loud and clear right now for whomever needs to hear it:

You are beloved, just as you are.  

Whatever you bring to the picture, you are beloved--and you are beloved by a God who sees you fully and loves the real you, not anybody else's cardboard cut-out of you.  

You are so precious to God that there is no price God would not pay to be with you.

And you are loved so completely and deeply that there is nothing you can do (or not do) to make God stop loving you.

That's what the cross is about.  A love that came with no strings or conditions, without a whiff of resentment or bitterness from God's part.  A love that poured itself out without requiring first that we become "more lovable," because we were already beloved.

That's the news worth telling someone.  In fact, you can bet your bottom dollar there's someone you know who needs to hear it.

Lord Jesus, let us simply hear your promise that we are beloved, and let it sink in without our need to add layers of guilt or resentment onto it.  Let your love sink in deep.