Called to Freedom, Rev. Valerie Robideaux

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Saturday, April 2, 2011

Rev. Valerie Robideaux

“For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.” Galatians 5:13-15

Working on a college campus, I am surrounded by students discovering their freedom. Freedom to think, freedom to believe, freedom to succeed, freedom to fail, freedom to go to Wal-Mart at 2am, freedom to skip class or attend class. Released from the chains of the parental phrase “well, under my roof…” college students bask in the sunshine of newly found freedom.

I don’t know about you, but I like my freedom. I too like to do what I want when I want. I like being the parent who gets to determine the rules for “under my roof.” I like to decide how I spend money, how I schedule my day, how I worship, how I eat, how I go about my vocation, etc.

Paul’s words in Galatians convict me, though. Even though I experience many freedoms on a daily basis, the kind of freedom Paul describes is vastly different. The freedoms I enjoy and take great pleasure in are freedoms from authority, an opportunity to express my autonomy, a submission only to my own will and desire.

Freedom found in Christ, the freedom we are called to first requires submission. It requires an emptying of my will and desire in order to have the freedom to love God and others more fully.

How does this freedom in Christ instruct my everyday freedoms I so enjoy?

Scot McKnight states, “God grants us the freedom to do what God made us to do. What God made us to do was to love others. Anytime we use the freedom to harm or dishonor others, we deny ourselves true freedom.” (Jesus Creed, 116).

How might my everyday choices harm or dishonor others?

Thy Kingdom Come . . . Rev. Elaine Burleigh

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Thy Kingdom Come…

Rev. Elaine Burleigh

“Aaron, you’ve got some ‘splainin to do!” said Moses to his brother ( the “Ricky Ricardo” translation) after returning from a forty day retreat with God on Mount Sinai. “But I just threw the gold into the fire…and it came out a calf!” cried Aaron in self-defense. We know that our affinity for idol worship is nothing new. So, I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised to find that we have even found a way to turn the spiritual disciplines into idols. Scott McKnight reminds us that prayer, fasting, almsgiving and similar spiritual practices are given to us by God “to increase our love for him and for others.” But we quickly learn that although we cannot control God or our relationship with God, we can control our prayer life, our journaling, and our fasting; and we certainly control our almsgiving and the amount of time we spend reading scripture or helping the poor. And it is so much easier to worship a god we can control than a God we can’t. So instead of allowing God to use the spiritual disciplines to transform us into people who love God and neighbor, we begin to polish and perfect these spiritual disciplines until they resemble bright, shiny, golden calves. But in doing so, we block the power of these disciplines to transform us into the image of Christ.

Consider the sustaining power of prayer in Jesus’ life. Prayer wasn’t just something Jesus did at the beginning and the ending of each day, he offered his whole life as one continuous prayer. When his disciples asked Jesus to teach them how to pray, he offered them the prayer we have come to know and love, “Our Father, who art in heaven…” But for Jesus, these weren’t just words; they were a blueprint for how to live as the light of God loose in the world. First, Jesus taught them the words; then he showed them what that prayer looked like in action. Several years ago, Walter Wangerin (“Reliving the Passion: Meditations on the Suffering, Death and Resurrection of Jesus as Recorded in Mark”) introduced me to the drama of the Lord’s prayer played out in the Garden of Gethsemane:

And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible to thee; remove this cup from me; yet not what I will, but what thou wilt.
Mark 14:35-36
“Jesus cries his deepest and desperate desire: that the hour, by the power of his Father, pass away from him. This is the living substance of the sixth petition: Save us from the time of trial. Jesus pleads three times, ‘Remove this cup from me,’ the plea of the seventh petition: Deliver us from evil. But under every request of his own, he places an attitude of faithful obedience to his Father, saying, ‘Yet not what I will, but what thou wilt.’ Here is the third petition, which prepares us properly for any answer God may give all other petitions: Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. When Jesus teaches us to pray, he does not teach plain recitation. Rather, he calls us to a way of being. He makes prayer a doing. And by his own extreme example, he shows that prayer is the active relationship between ourselves…and the dear Father, Abba. (Wangerin, 65).

The cruciform nature of the spiritual disciplines knows nothing of distortion or idolatry. In right relationship to the one true God, spiritual disciplines are both hazardous and life giving — through them God will change you into one willing to submit to the cup of suffering, the time of trial, and the forces of evil for the love of God and the love of neighbor. And so we pray, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

 

Judgment and Hell Part II: Judging Others

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             Talking about judgment is difficult for some.  It’s far too easy for others.  On one end of the spectrum, the plank in our eye is so large that people dismiss judgment all together, claiming that holding each other accountable reeks of self righteous exclusivity and pious bullying.  On the other end of the pendulum swing we obsess over the speck of dust in our brother’s eye, proclaiming a works righteousness gospel in which God details our life in a ledger, and if our sins outweigh the good fruit of our faith, we will spend an eternity in torment.

                I think Scott McKnight (40 Days Living the Jesus Creed) is on to something when he talks about the difference between “judging” and “discernment.”  We are not to judge others, namely, as our creeds confess, because Christ is the judge of the living and the dead.  Have you ever pondered why God would “delegate” this eternal responsibility to the Son?  It is because Jesus walked with us, ate with us, washed our feet and commanded that we do the same.  It is because Jesus died for us while we were yet sinners and rose again so that we might find abundant life.  Our judge is also the one who died and rose again for our sake, and this gives me hope.  So we are not to judge others because in so doing we assume the role of The Beloved, and if we remember our story well, attempting to assume the role of The Divine is what got us kicked out of the garden (Genesis 3).

                Having said this, we are to hold each other accountable in faithful, loving, Christian community, not assuming the convicting role of the Spirit; rather grabbing a towel and filling a basin of warm water and washing each other’s feet in humble service.  If I’ve learned one thing in the parish it’s this:  If you publicize a foot washing service, folks will go out of their way to make sure their feet are presentable!

                Rather than preaching an offensive Gospel of judgment (those who typically call for an offensive word usually want a word that offends everyone but them) or to live by the proverbial “to each his own,” we are to prayerfully discern how to live as a holy and humble community with one another, meeting the needs of each other so that the light of Christ may burn away the darkness we hold deep within our souls.  May God bless you with humility and discernment as we walk on the way which leads to abundant life.

Ok, so I haven’t yet assumed the role of Abraham and argued with God, but hopefully soon . . . Check back later!

Thinking Out Loud: Judgment and Hell, Part I

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A moment of grace, please.  Tonight’s Bible study lesson is on Judgment, and I have a difficult time talking about damnation, Hell, Sheol, Hades . . . fill in the blank–not because I have a problem with judgment or justice, it’s just that when I do speak of the day of reckoning, I can almost see my words twisting in the air.  The major problem with which I struggle is not theological, but homiletical (preaching).  When I preach a difficult word of God “saving the righteous” and “casting out the unrighteous,” in the eyes of the community, I do not see conviction; rather I feel affirmation–which is an unsettling thought.  In other words, in my spirit I do not hear, “I should repent and change my ways.”  I hear, “They should repent and change their ways.”  It seems that those who err on the side of God’s justice and judgment do so for their own behalf–“I am right and they are wrong, and God has a stern word for them.”

Now, who disagrees with their own point of view?  To be fair, there is a strong conviction that how I am living my life in Christ is the way to living abundantly; however I am smart enough to know that I am not always right.  Far from it.  In fact, I believe I am far enough along on my Christian journey to know the power of sin, that sin has the power to render me unable to choose the good, and if this is true, I should not be putting faith in my own conviction that I am on the straight and narrow.

This is why I must trust in God’s grace, which brings me to my theological questions.  Now, I’m going to play the part of Abraham for a moment, so don’t blame me, I’m just being Biblical . . . stay tuned for Part II.

Not Sure I Even Like That Person, Rev. Dawn B. Yound, Ed.D.

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Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Rev. dawn b. young, Ed.D.

One of my favorite movies of all time is “Shenandoah” with Jimmy Stewart as the patriarch of the Anderson clan. And my favorite scene is when Doug McClure comes to Stewart to ask for Jennie’s hand in marriage. “Do you like her?” “Mr. Anderson I love her.” “There’s a difference between lovin’ someone and likin’ em.” Stewart goes on to explain how he liked his wife and suddenly it dawned upon him one day that he loved her.

As Christians, we are commanded to love our neighbor, that includes those we love, those we like and interestingly enough those that we don’t like or love. We have the great opportunity to love our enemies. How am I supposed to do that? Today’s reading points out the significance of this “enemy-love” when we consider the big enemies in the world today. It might not be all that problematic for me to say I pray for and love bin Laden or Ghadfi. Really chances are very small that I will ever have to interact with those fellows. But enemy love becomes very real when it has to be focused on those in my life that have caused and may continue to cause me harm.

The story of the Good Samaritan is one of our best examples of loving our neighbor. But we need to remember for the Jew on the side of the road, beaten, battered and bruised, the last thing he would have wanted, and probably imagined, was a Samaritan stopping to help him. For that story to make sense to us (me) today, we (I) am the one laying on the road in need of help, and the one that comes to our (my) aid is the one we (I) least would want to receive it from. Who would that be for you?

How does that change your enemy love?

Rod . . . Staff . . . Sword, Rev. Elenora Mackey Cushenberry, Th.D

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Monday, March 28, 2011

ROD…STAFF…SWORD…

Rev. Elenora Mackey Cushenberry, Th.D

In her book, as we forgive: Stories of Reconciliation from Rwanda, catherine claire larson provides readers with seven compelling stories of “great” persons. On the cover of her book is a little boy with a stick in his right hand and a sandal in his left. A large hat covers half of his face. He is walking with determination—he has a destination to get too. Adjacent to this picture is a man, walking with what appears to be the same determination. Their strides are complimentary. In place of the little boy’s stick is a machete, in the right hand of the man. He carries a water gourd in his left hand. The sandal in the little boy’s hand may be a gift he intends to give to someone who needs it. It may also be the last possession or reminder he has of a love one. The water gourd carried by the man may be a gift or it may be for him and other sojourners.

Remember, the little boy’s face is partially covered. We can’t see exactly who he is. We can’t see his eyes, which would help to convey meaning…and understanding. But we are able to see his lips. Lips that are neither smiling nor frowning. Lips that are simply together. Lips that seem to speak: “This is my life now.” On the other hand, the photograph of the man is taken mid-chest. There is no way to extract meaning from his facial expressions. Questions abound with these two juxtaposed photographs. But one question perplexes me: Without the gift of reconciliation, does this little boy become the man without a face, carrying a machete and a gourd of water. Is the machete for protection or for revenge? Is the water for self preservation alone or also for sharing?

In our lesson today, McKnight calls us to the task of being a Christian. Reminding us that in so doing, we may forever be nameless and faceless. But the introverted questions we may need to ask are: Am I carrying the Gospel—the Good News of Jesus Christ—for protection or for revenge. Is it for self—preservation alone or also for sharing? Psalm 23 has these words: Your rod and your staff, they comfort me; the Gospel, Put away your sword.

Perhaps, the more important question is: What will be the destination of those we meet if we refuse the gift of reconciliation, the gift of love mixed with forgiveness and tears? What kind of adult will little boys and little girls become? And, what about the man and woman who are still carrying that hurt little boy and girl inside?

On this 18th day of Lent, let’s put away our sword(s)!

From Suffering to Hope–Romans 5:1-11, Lent 3 A

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                           Several years ago I joined a team to provide Katrina relief in New Orleans.  We were charged with gutting out Ms. Helena’s home, which suffered an 8 ft. storm surge and a three week drowning of 4 ft. of stagnant water.  We pulled out dry wall and base boards, we moved pictures and books to the curb, and cleaned mold from essential structural beams.  Near the end of our week I had the chance to visit with Ms. Helena on her front porch.  As we sat together enjoying some water, I asked her how she was feeling.  She broke an awkward silence with, “Thank God for the flood.”  “Excuse me?” I said.  “Do you see that oak tree in my yard?  If it hadn’t been for the flood, the wind would have thrown the tree into my house, destroying it beyond repair.  So, I thank God for the flood.”  It was a humbling conversation.  How was it that in the midst of suffering she was able to thank God for anything?  We had just thrown away almost everything she owned, and yet, she was hopeful.

                How is it that Paul moves so quickly from suffering to hope?  Paul writes, “We boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”  It sounds like an empty promise of sorts, and it is if we don’t read Paul carefully.  Paul does not say that suffering produces hope, and therein lies the temptation of moving too quickly from suffering to hope.  It’s almost human nature to provide immediate hope in the midst of suffering.  When life is lost we say, “They are in a better place.”  In the midst of divorce we say, “Don’t worry, things will get better.”  When someone has lost their job we say, “Don’t worry, you’ll find something.”  We mean well when we say these things.  We say them out of compassion and love and the need to do something to bring peace, but unfortunately these words aren’t necessarily helpful.  It’s like that great scene in Steel Magnolias when Annelle tells M’lynne that she should rejoice that Shelby is with God in heaven, and M’lynne replies, “Well forgive me for not being happy.  Call me selfish, but I’d rather have her here.”  In many ways, hope is not something we do, it is a destination in which we find ourselves.

                Suffering is devastating because being in the midst of suffering seemingly erases possibility.  It is difficult to see past your own face when you are suffering because it seems like suffering will never end, that there won’t be a tomorrow.  This is why being in a place of hope is so important.  Hope is the embodiment of possibility.  Hope does not disappoint us, as Paul says, because “Hope” is possibility.  Suffering is looking at a blank page and seeing nothing.  Hope is looking at the same blank page and seeing endless possibility.  In order to see how Paul moves from suffering to hope, let’s work backwards, beginning with hope.

                Character produces hope.  Many years ago I was title character in Slidell Little Theater’s production of Lil’ Abner.  It was the first time I was the lead in a musical so I was very nervous, so I practiced and practiced and practiced.  There is a particular scene in the musical where Lil’ Abner talks to the president of the United States.  In our production, we pre taped the voice of the President so that Abner could be alone on stage, talking to the balcony.  The voice over the speakers said something like, “Abner, I want to congratulate you on the work that you’ve done.”  One weekend, I went on stage for the scene.  The spotlight was on me as I stared into the balcony.  The voice came over the speakers and said, “Abner, I want to . . .”  The tape malfunctioned, and at first, it was frightening.  There was a moment of silence which seemed to last forever.  Because I had practiced the scene so much, I knew that the President was supposed to congratulate me on finding the kicakapoo joy juice.  So I said, “While you think of what you’re going to say, I’m going to go find the bottle of kickapoo joy juice.”  Then I ran off stage and we started the next scene.  One of the cardinal rules of acting is to never break character, and the only way to do this is to practice, to know your character so well that no matter what happens on stage, I will always act as my character would act.  In other words, knowing my character means that the possibilities are endless, no matter what happens.  Character produces hope.  Our Christian character is shaped in much the same way.  Through practicing the disciplines of the church, prayer, fasting, communion, study, we are shaped and formed, theologically speaking, we are spiritually perfected, that no matter what life hands us, we can respond in holy and righteous ways.  Character produces hope.

                Endurance produces character.  Endurance is picking up the script and studying lines and blocking, and practicing with other actors.  In the church, endurance is the adoption of spiritual disciplines.  It is making the commitment to pray.  It is taking time to study scripture.  It is spending your weekends volunteering at Hope House and Kids Hope—do you notice the titles of those ministries—HOPE house and Kids HOPE.  Endurance—living into the disciplines of the church, forms our Christian character, which produces the endless possibilities of hope.  When you find yourself in the darkness of suffering, seeing the light of hope seems impossible, namely because suffering doesn’t produce hope.  Suffering leads to endurance.  In other words, when you are suffering and you see a blank page of nothingness, Paul is calling us to fill the blank page with prayer.  When there are no words on the page we are to fill them with the words of scripture.  When the agenda is blank, fill it with service to others.  Suffering produces endurance, the blank page is filled with the prayer, service, study and community.  Endurance produces character, the disciplines form us in the power of the Spirit.  Character produces hope, giving us the ability to see the blank page as possibility.  Hope does not disappoint us because we are finally in a place to see the love of God which has been poured into our hearts, the love of God which provides us Resurrection, the truth that all things are possible through Christ our Lord.

                Suffering is not necessarily when bad things happen.  Jurgen Moltmann put it this way:

 “We begin to suffer from the conditions of our world if we begin to love the world.  And we begin to love the world if we are able to discover hope for it.  And we discover hope for this world if we hear the promise of a future which stands against frustration, transiency, and death.  To be sure, we can find certainty only in complete uncertainty.” 

 In other words, we suffer because we love.  We look at the brokenness of the world and our heart breaks over that which breaks God’s heart.  This is why Christ suffered on the cross.  Jesus looked over Jerusalem and wept.  He suffered on the cross, taking on the sins of the world so that the world might be saved.  He suffered and endured the cross, showing us the Christian character of love, so that we might experience the hope of resurrection.  Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us.

                We have been justified and we will be saved.  Paul would be a good Methodist.  He talks about salvation as a process, we will be saved.  We have been justified through Christ on the cross.  God has shown us the way through Christ in the power of the Spirit, and the Spirit walks with us onto salvation, which is living into the Resurrection.  It’s like going to New Orleans and gutting out Ms. Helena’s home, getting rid of the muck and mold, so that her home can be filled with new things.  Looking at an empty house may produce suffering, the inability to see possibility, or an empty house may represent a new and beautiful future.  It’s like sitting on the porch and saying, “Thank God for the flood because the flood water held the oak tree back.”  Getting to that place means getting your hands dirty and removing the muck and mire, but when the house is finally clean, new life begins to grow.  Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the power of the Spirit.

                If you are looking at your life and you see a blank page of nothingness, fill the page is prayer, community, and service, and eventually, by the power of the Spirit, the blank page will become a symbol of hope because you will be able to see the possibility given to us in Christ’s Resurrection, the moment when Christ took the suffering and nothingness of death and transformed it into life, showing us that all things are possible through Christ our Lord.  Praise be to God.  Amen.

Ears, Eyes, and Hands, Rev. Juan Huertas

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Thursday, March 24, 2011

Ears, Eyes, and Hands

Rev. Juan Huertas

If we are called to love others, we are called to love the needy among us. According to Scott McKnight “this cycle of love begins with those closest to us, and ripples into our community of faith and then into anyone we might meet who is in need.” Jesus reminds us time and time again that caring for the poor and needy is one of the fundamental actions of discipleship. According to Jesus, if we serve the neediest among us we are serving him.

Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador said it like this:

There is a way to know if God is near us or far away: everyone who is concerned about the hungry, about the naked, about the poor, about the disappeared, about the tortured, about the prisoner, about all the flesh that is suffering, will find God near. “Call to the Lord and he will hear you.” Religion is not praying a great deal. Religion involves this guarantee of having my God near because I do good to my brothers and sisters. The proof of my prayer is not to say a great many words, the proof of my plea is easy to see: how do I act toward the poor? Because God is there.

(from Through the Year with Oscar Romero: Daily Meditations, p.33)

As a church we are having constant conversations about our mission. What is it? Who’s in our mission field? How do our ministries become outward in expression instead of inward? How do we prepare and deploy disciples to this fundamental expression of love?

I believe that in his reflection for today, Scott McKnight gives us a good starting point at answering the missional questions. He calls disciple’s of Jesus to have the ears, eyes, and hands of Jesus. This is a call to full engagement with the neediest among us. Engaging in this way takes more than a check, more than a donation, more than an announcement in the bulletin. It demands our being attentive so that we can hear of the needs, see them in our community, and then get to work together in bringing God’s kingdom to the places we live, work, and play.

In a landscape of so many needs we can be overwhelmed. We hear of the devastation I Japan, civil war in Lybia, and continued uncertainty in Egypt and we become paralyzed not knowing where to begin. I believe that we begin with the needy around us.

What do our ears hear where we work, live, and play? What are the conversations? Who is directly or indirectly asking for help?

What do we see as we drive home? Who are the ones that could easily be forgotten? What places have become, as Shane Claiborne tells us, “abandoned places of empire?”

The answer to these questions becomes the blue print for our work together as God’s people. We must get our hands dirty, we must get beyond ourselves, we must leave the comfortable pews, stained glass windows, and air conditioned classrooms to be about the work of healing, reconciling, and transforming that God’s Spirit has called us tand empowered us to be about in the world.

Always remembering that in the least, neediest, and forgotten, God is . . .

 

Being the Church, Rev. Matt Rawle

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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Rev. Matt Rawle

There’s nothing like the church. It is a place where strangers are welcomed, the hungry are fed, a holy community is formed, and where Jesus promises to be present. There’s nothing like the church. It’s a place where Christians shun strangers, hold onto to self-preserving resources, bicker and argue about the insignificant, and where Christians seem to forget that Christ promises to be present. There’s nothing like the church. Sam Wells, Dean of the Duke Chapel, offered a sermon about the relationship between Jesus and the church titled, “Following One Lord.” He writes, “The Jesus we create without the church is a fantasy. The church we create without Jesus is a monster. Thank God that Peter knew who Jesus was and that he found out the way the church finds out, by following Jesus. And thank God that Jesus knew who Peter was and founded the church on him anyway, so we can never fool ourselves that the church doesn’t ever get beyond Jesus. No Church without Jesus. No Jesus without the Church. Thank God” (Samuel Wells, Speaking the Truth: Preaching in a Pluralistic Culture, 119).

The truth is we cannot be Jesus’ disciples without the church. We also cannot be the church without Jesus. In our reading for today (Day 13 of Living the Jesus Creed), Scot McKnight recalls Mark 3:33-35, when Jesus’ family comes to “collect” Jesus because they feel he is out of his mind—associating with sinners and all. This interaction between Jesus’ family and . . . Jesus’ family, cuts to the heart of what we call “Church.” Those who are knocking at the door (Jesus’ mother, brothers, and sisters) want Jesus without the church. They want to hold on to Jesus’ teachings, miracles, and salvific hope, yet they want nothing to do with those who Jesus came to save—the outcasts, sinners, and undesirables. Those on the inside want the church without Jesus. They feel welcomed in the community, and they have found a place to call home, yet these followers who eat and pray with Jesus eventually call for his crucifixion when Jesus refuses to take up the sword against Rome.

As Christians we are called to follow the Jesus Creed, to love God and love each other. This means that we are to hold onto Christ and the promise of God, even when we are thrown into challenging acts of love with those whom Jesus invites to the table. This also means that we are to create places of hospitality in which all feel welcome, even when following Jesus means letting go of self in order to carry a cross. There’s nothing like the church. It sure isn’t perfect, but it is where imperfect people can develop a perfect love for God and each other. McKnight concludes by saying, “The only way to participate in the church with sanity is to realize that God’s love and Jesus’ love empower us to love others—whether they are ‘out of their mind’ or not!” Thank God.

The Great Search, Rev. Valarie Robideaux

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Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Rev. Valerie Robideaux

“He who loves his wife loves himself” Ephesians 5:28

It was not too long ago that I was clanging dishes around in my kitchen. No, I was not cooking in a hurry. I was not clumsy. I was an angry spouse. I was furious. I was tired, overworked, and cleaning the kitchen. This trifecta was a lethal combination and I was going to clean the kitchen loud enough to guilt my husband into finishing the job (out of his love for me) for this tired soul. As my loud, clanging cries for help in distress went unnoticed I began to tally the past five years of marriage. I quickly became the victim, always sacrificing myself for the good of the family. The resentment swelled within me until it the kitchen could not contain it any longer. Before I knew it, my passive-aggressive tirade left the kitchen and moved on to doors, laundry, and the vacuum. “See how much I do out of my love for him?”

Loving another person as oneself is incredibly difficult and requires an outpouring of grace and humility. We are selfish beings. We like to receive love, praise, and recognition. It is tempting to tally our “love” in our relationships, to keep a record of loving good works. When we tally our love, we can become resentful and operate as victimized martyrs.

“You complete me.” The famous line in the movie Jerry McGuire sums up a societal mindset when it comes to romance and the great search for a soul mate. Hearts everywhere melted at that declaration of a life fulfilled, a void satisfied by the perfect person.

Paul’s words concerning the relationship between spouses reminds us that the great search is not for that one perfect person who completes us. Rather, the great search is the love of God that inspires a love for self that enables a love for another. Intentional relationships that mirror the eternal love of Father, Son, and Spirit demands equity. It is not placing self-importance over another, and at the same time, it is not denying love of self for the good of another. In our relationships, we are not two halves making one whole. We are to love self as whole person. We are to love another as whole person.

Only when we find ourselves completed through God’s love are we able to fully love another. May we all be inspired to extend this gracious and redeeming love to one another…even in the kitchen.