John 15:9-17 ~ He loves us. Let's show his love.

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10 If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.13 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command. 15 I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. 17 This is my command: Love each other.  - John 15:9-17

I haven't posted on here in a while, probably because the Bible hasn't spoken too much to me in a while. Tonight it did though. I really needed to hear this passage, as cliche as that is to say.

I struggle with clinical depression, and while I've finally found a medication that helps me a lot, I still have times when I feel very hopeless, sad, lonely, etc. Tonight was one of those times, maybe because I haven't been sleeping well, which usually contributes to bringing on my depressive episodes, and stress from starting school and just having a lot on my mind. Tonight I felt so, so lonely and isolated; I don't get to hang out with friends very often and a lot of my friends live in completely different parts of the country. Talking over text or even writing letters just isn't the same, and there are a few relationships that just aren't the way I want them to be, which was really weighing on me.

I felt frustrated that people didn't seem to care about me the way I care about them. This has been a longtime frustration in my life, since I tend to be the person who reaches out, initiates, and encourages (a bit ironic since I also have social anxiety disorder). I wouldn't trade being an encourager for anything, but it gets frustrating when there aren't many people encouraging you and relationships feel a bit one-sided. I crave love and companionship, honesty and openness. And even though I working on looking less to others for validation, it's nice sometimes to be reminded that people care.

I sent people some text messages, hoping maybe someone would answer and I could distract myself, if not admit that I was struggling, but nobody answered. My mind began to buzz with thoughts and feelings, mostly centered around the lie that no one wants me and I don't matter to my old friends that much any more. I grew increasingly frustrated with my inability to break through communication barriers, with the pressure to always seem okay that kept me from straight up texting someone, "Hey, I feel worthless and I don't know how to keep living. Can you talk?"

Even better (read: worse) is that I've also been struggling in the last couple of days because I have been developing romantic feelings for a friend who doesn't really seem interested in return. I keep grappling with whether I should contact him or wait, wondering whether this or that conversation we had indicates that he likes me. It's torture. I've never had a romantic relationship with anyone, (thanks, weird Evangelical Christian I-kissed-dating-kind-of-goodbye scene) I've just had a string of very intense but very pathetically hopeless crushes on people who weren't interested back. That's left me feeling pretty undesirable and unlovable, if I'm honest with myself. I have a tough time believing I will ever find someone who loves me and now that I've gone so long without dating, the thought of actually developing a relationship with a guy is scary and frankly rather impossible-sounding, especially as a shy person.

So what does all of this angsty rambling have to do with Jesus and the book of John? Well, I was just about to switch off the light, fighting the desire to swallow all of the pills I own, when my eyes landed on the Bible in the stack of books by my bed. At first I said, "No. None of that tonight. I'm tired of how God messes around with my brain and lets me down again and again in real life." But whether by compulsion driven by guilt or venture motivated by hope, I decided to pick the thing up and continue my Random Readings in the Gospels Bible study that I've making up as I go along. I ended up in John and remembered that I kept seeing John 15 on social media recently. Curious, I opened to the start of the chapter. The words at the beginning of this post jumped out at me. Tears almost came to my eyes as the words read through to the end, in particular when I saw:

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends..." (v. 15)

I guess I was very struck by the concept that an omnipotent God would lay down his life for a measly little person like me. I've always felt a bit down on myself because I've never had many friends, been the center of attention, had my blog or YouTube videos go viral, and I was constantly being rejected from clubs in college. Being a nobody is practically part of my identity. But I matter enough to God for him to lay down his life for me. I often view myself as a servant of God; it's good to be reminded that we are his cherished friends. He has lifted us up.

I was also struck by the words: "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (v. 16). These resonated with me because of the whole failed attempts at romantic relationships thing I was talking about before. In fact, I was just writing earlier on my other blog that I wish I could just be loved by someone, chosen by someone. I think this is part of the big attraction of love for most people: the idea that someone chose you to be their mate. God, the Most High Being who knows and controls all things, chose us. How different is that from so many faiths where people are lucky that God pays them any attention.

Yet this privilege also comes with a burden, we are appointed to go and bear fruit (v. 16) and commanded to love each other (v. 17). In verse 12, we are exhorted to "Love each other as I have loved you." And how did God love us? "Great love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (v. 13) That is a pretty heavy command then, and one that I think is lacking among most American Christians, who have made faith more about defining "us vs. them" and obeying certain rules they have drawn up from biblical texts almost like the Pharisees rather than actively showing love to other people. Most Christians are spending more effort actively showing judgment to others, and almost all of us, myself included, are generally wrapped up in our own little worlds, not taking time to sacrificially give of our time, money, and talents to encourage and love other people. We spend thousands of dollars to go on short term missions trips when there are thousands of people at our back door who need to know they are loved, who need to be clothed and fed, who need to know there is hope, who need guidance, who need someone to invest time and care into their lives. The problem is, we don't get glory for those sorts of every day acts of outreach; we don't get to stand in front of the church and tell about our delayed flights and lay overs or change our Facebook profile picture to a photo of us with cute African children who we'll never see again but had a lot of fun cuddling with for a week. Okay, I'm getting too cynical here.

But I really do believe that God has a strong call for us to show love to the people he has placed in our lives. I often find myself wishing I knew that celebrity or that author or that singer who I seem to have so much in common with; then I realize that there is a reason they're not in my life and my siblings, my classmates, my parents are. They are the people who I'm supposed to love and reach out to. They are my mission field. I need to love unconditionally and get outside of my own head sometimes and remember to leave them a note saying they matter, give them a compliment, do the dishes, ask them to lunch. Check in on a friend who's hurting, visit a person who is sick, not shy away from a friendship with a person who is from a marginalized group such as the LGBT community. It's not easy to do these things because they aren't always very rewarding and they often to unappreciated and aren't particularly fun or life-changing, but being a person who actively reaches out to others is being the hands and feet of Christ. We can be his love on this earth and that kind of kindness and service, if done with a humble, sincere (Read: not condescending, holier-than-thou) heart can speak volumes to people.

I know this realization that God considers me a friend won't cure my problems, but it was encouraging to be reminded of that truth. I still have a hard time letting it sink in, but I'm glad I can go to sleep with a little bit of a lighter heart. And I am challenged by the reminder to love the people around me, because I know I've been pushing some hurting people away because of my own hard heart.

Mark 10:46-52 ~ To have faith

Blind Bartimaeus Receives His SightThen they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.”So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.”“Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

For me, this passage holds both the power to encourage and to convict. At first, the story is inspiring and heart-warming; the sheer joy, passion, and determination of this marginalized man in such difficult circumstances is infectious.  Even better is that Jesus actually listens to him and brings him forward to speak with him face-to-face.  No doubt this was a radical move in a time when the blind and disabled were seen as defiled, disgraced, and cursed by God, not to be interacted with. It always encourages me a great deal to read of incidences of Jesus' radical compassion and consideration of others, stopping a busy crowd just to point out the needs of one small person who was an outcast to everyone else. 

These sorts of events must have really pissed the disciples off, fixated as they were on running things properly, moving along with the schedule, and being practical. Remember how they wouldn't even let people bring their children to see Jesus? These interactions must have also shocked Jesus' fellow citizens who were so used to a strict hierarchy dictating who could talk to whom. But Jesus always took the time to have a one-on-one interaction with hurting people who were desperate for his healing. I think here especially of the woman who had been bleeding for years who touched Jesus' cloak. He could have just been satisfied with healing them from afar and taking less trouble to go and interact with them - after all, there are incidences of Jesus healing people remotely, like the centurion's daughter - but I think he wanted to dignify these people in the eyes of their peers. 

This is a strong call to us as Christians to love and live alongside the outcasts of our own communities rather than being the ones who shun them and tell our children to stay away. We should make it our work to give people dignity by talking with them, asking about their lives and stories, listening to their hurts and dreams. Taking time to be there for the people God has placed in our lives because our most important ministry is to them. The founder of To Write Love on Her Arms, Jamie Tworkowski, has some great words to say on that subject.

But regarding the conviction this passage brought, it made me look at myself: do I have this kind of faith in God, this enthusiasm for his healing? I noticed that Jesus often speaks of faith when he heals people, praising their faith or reprimanding them for a lack of it. I have given up faith in a lot of things over the years as I've seen countless dreams deferred (or even crushed) and hopes go unfulfilled. I used to hold a strong belief that these things happened for a reason and God was closing the door to open others (as the unbearable cliche goes), but as time went on and more and more doors closed without anything opening, I began to question a lot of that belief and lose faith in God's faithfulness. I've fallen into a mindset that I will doubt God's provision, almost in an effort to get him to pity me so he will give me what I hope for. Maybe it's time I instead asked for faith to believe in God's ability to provide, though it might at times be in ways different from what I had planned, instead. 

Mark 6:1-5 ~ He was rejected.

Jesus left there and went to his hometown, accompanied by his disciples. When the Sabbath came, he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed.
“Where did this man get these things?” they asked. “What’s this wisdom that has been given him? What are these remarkable miracles he is performing? Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t this Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him.
Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home.” He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.

I know it's a cliche to say this passage came across my path just when I needed it (I gag just hearing myself say such a Christianese thing...), but it's true. I was comforted by this passage tonight and I'm glad I happened to open to it.

Today has been one of those nobody-likes-me-everybody-hates-me-I'm-gonna-go-eat-worms kind of days where I just realize, gee, I'm pretty lonely and most of my friends are to busy to even reply to my text messages, much less get together for a good talk. I've made so much of an effort to be a good friend throughout my life, but haven't gotten much in return. Most of my friendships have been pretty one-sided, either because the other person is busy, emotionally unavailable, or even unwilling for who knows what reason. It gets really frustrating, especially when you see everyone else boasting about how #blessed they are to have such wonderful friends and how much they love their friends and you wonder why nobody wants to love you.

When I read this passage, I realized that Jesus knows what it's like to experience rejection too. This spoke to a very broken and hurt-y part of my soul because a deep-seated hurt of mine is the many rejections I have faced over the years, whether from friends who just aren't interested, men who don't return my affections, the many organizations and ministries I've tried to be a part of or jobs I've applied to, the ministries of my own I've tried to start that never took off. I sometimes to wonder if all this rejection means there's something wrong with me that people just don't like. But I guess there wasn't anything wrong with Jesus that caused people to reject him; in fact, the issue was more that there was something right with him. 

So at the risk of sounding self-glorifying, I find comfort in knowing that even Jesus faced rejection by his very own hometown. His home fries. The people who are supposed to put up signs at the gas stations saying how proud they are when you win the Olympics. The people who are supposed to crowd the airport to welcome you back from conquering the world. Why didn't Jesus' peeps celebrate that someone had made it out of their dinky little down and made a name for himself? They ridiculed and resented his success. They had no faith in his potential, in his message, in his talent even though they witnessed it themselves. Were they jealous? Were they upset that he had gotten above his station?

Again, I find comfort (wish I could now find another word to use...) in knowing that the most famous man in human history experienced a hurt not dissimilar from my own, in spite of my being a tiny little nobody who will be a mere blip on the radar of history. I had a close friend for about three years who projected a very hot/cold, passive-aggressive attitude towards me; I could never tell if we were best friends or worst enemies. Such is the nature of female friendship at times...ha! Anyways, I always felt like she resented any successes or accomplishments I achieved, which hurt me a lot because I was looking for support and encouragement from my friends, not underhanded digs and calculated coldness. Sometimes we had fun together, but other times she had the potential to leave me frustrated and confused beyond belief or even bawling on the phone to my mother, unable to contain my hurt. 

When our paths parted because of circumstances, I decided to stop keeping up with her because it just seemed healthier for me that way. Apparently the feeling was mutual because I haven't heard from her in probably nine months. For the most part I've moved on, but occasionally I remember her patronizing, pasted-on smile and pointed comments and desperately wonder, "What on earth did I do to make her hate me? I tried so hard to be her friend and make her feel welcome!" I'm sure many others know what it's like to have a friend of family member who you just can't please; who cuts you down when you are looking for affirmation. We can find encouragement in the glimpse this passage gives into a unique view of his humanity: he was rejected. In fact, the rejection, opposition, and hate Jesus faced is almost as focused on in the gospels as the popularity he experienced, and oftentimes the popularity was distasteful to him because it was insincere; people just wanted to see him perform miracles, not listen to the message or experience true healing of their soul.

So I guess I'm learning that you can't blame yourself for others' lack of faith, particularly when you're trying to serve God and minister to others. And just because others don't acknowledge you or they cut you down, it's typically a problem on their end, such as a lack of self-confidence, previous dysfunctional relationships, etc., that makes them behave so unkindly. Of course, we should be on our guard against doing this to other people ourselves. I know I'm sometimes guilty of taking my problems out on others.