This semester I am more and more convicted to learn to love people, particularly by caring about what they care. And in times I find it very hard, especially when I was preoccupied by my own works and worries, when we were ministering to people I don’t even know in person, and when I felt so tired. But I also learn a lesson: there is no way for us to learn to love on our own.
Once upon a time, there was a man who knew he was about to get arrested and sent to death for the sins he did not commit. What came into his mind was not to run away or to freak out, but he was thinking about the twelve men of his own, and loved them to the end. During the Feast of Passover, when everyone else was eating, this guy left the table, brought a basin of water, tied a towel around his waist, and washed everyone’s feet.
And knowing that he would soon go back to where he truly belongs, he told his twelve people who had been doing life with him for three years, “Where I am going you cannot come. 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. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:33-35)
This crazy man was Jesus.
I live in places where I can freely go to church and say grace before meal without getting caught, so I never experienced the distress in the moment before being sent to die. But I did experience the moments before exams or paper due, and even my frustrating post-exam period in May this year, when I just did not want to meet with or care about people.
But Jesus did not love in this way. While I was just troubled by that silly post-exam period with many other silly times and justified myself of not catching up with people or be faithful to prayer requests, Jesus thought of and cared about his people even before his big trouble time, and loved them to the end. I don’t understand how could someone still think of others, who disappointed him for so many times, when he was about to die.
This is a real-life example on how to love in a way to consider others as more important than ourselves. That even before the greatest trial, his mind and his eyes were not occupied by “me,” “me,” and “me”.
Considering their life after losing him as a daily companion with his physical presence, Jesus commanded them to love one another, just as he loved them. And this should be a mark to let people know that they belong to Jesus, because he himself first loved them in such selfless ways.
But everything does come with a price tag. Time, strength, love, commitment, responsibility, emotion, faithfulness, care, to name but a few. Recently I was so honoured to pray with a friend for her contend for family salvation, to both our surprise, it turned to be a really intense prayer time. After that intense prayer, I was so tired, and my body was still tired the next morning, even it was just a small act of service I could do. Most of the times it’s about to pay the price or not to pay.
But I was definitely not the only one who committed. So do my friends, if not more so. Even just within this semester, I have received so much kindness and love. A friend who showed constant support ever since my writing of the first prospectus draft and edited my draft when she was fasting and having car sick. A friend who lived in another town just stopped on her way home at night, and made a video call to check on me after I failed my first defense. And, a friend kept calling until I picked up the phone in the morning, after she received my email of self-condemnation and sensed a spiritual attack was going on in my life.
Frankly speaking, I think my solitude life in the past was easier. Not in a sense that I now have to pour out for people. I am still not that serving or sacrificial to make such a huge difference compares to my past. But it is more about I have to learn to feel comfortable to ask and to receive. I still don’t know the reason, but the more I try to serve in prayers or other ways, the more I also feel the need to share my prayer requests and even ask for help. This might sound very reciprocal, but I believe one of the reasons God allows this to happen is that, without feeling the need of prayer and help, I could not understand others’ feeling. If I don’t understand them, it is hard to pour out with genuine care. And for some reasons, God just deliberately chooses not to reveal everything to any single individual, but he wants us to love one another as the way he does to us, and in times he encourages and convicts us through one another.
Another reason I felt the lone-wolf style easier is about the inevitable emotional investment. We are not the Saviour, and should never let this overwhelm us. But I am also more and more convinced that there is an unavoidable relationship between emotional attachment and a genuine heart of bearing burdens together. That at least during the time of praying for and talking about the burden of someone we genuinely care about, our heart would be drawn to feel the joy and the sorrow in his or her heart. Maybe not fully, but at least partially, for sure.
The past one-person life was easier and probably a bit more comfortable. But it is not the way he calls us to live. It is not the way his love works. Because he asks us to “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2) And, “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10)
Coming back to the crazy man who thought of all his imperfect friends when he knew he was about to be killed, in his heart there is incomprehensible compassion.
One time he found out his beloved friend, Lazarus, died. He already knew the Father entrusted him the power to raise his friend from the death, that’s why he told his disciples, “Lazarus has died, and for your sake I am glad that I was not there, so that you may believe.” (John 11:14-15) But when he saw Mary and other folks wept together, “he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.” (11:33) And he wept, even he knew about Lazarus’ resurrection. This is a heart of rejoicing with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn.
I gradually came to realise the love from/to God and the love to people cannot really be separate. Not just in a sense that we have to first get filled up by God’s love in order to pour out to love people. But also for the fact that, I want to love people because my God loves them so utterly. If I truly care about God, I would also care about what He cares, which includes people I know and I don’t know in person. This is the way to truly consider every person as so loved by him, and that he died for each of them as he did for me, so as to redeem us and build an intimate relationship with each of us.
I also believe sometimes people are not simply unwilling to pour out because they are selfish, but they may doubt the value of investing in certain things. Or they may concern whether people would really notice or appreciate their love and care. But if we truly believe all the love we pour out is not only meaningful to the person, but is also directing to and is for God, how different our mentality and mindset would be. Because pouring out our love to God never involves the problem of worthiness. It is for sure worthy, without even one exception.
Ultimately, the God who can satisfy himself perfectly would even allow our love and faithfulness to move his heart, to delight him, and to bring a big smile on his face. Every bit of our love, as long as it’s genuinely from our heart, matters to him. Even though we don’t deserve, he just freely gives us this honour. For his love is so profound that he allows our love means something in his eyes, to his heart.
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