Love Is Not Enough - A Response to Rage After the Orlando Shooting

Rage, hatred, venom, and bile – the contents of my Facebook feed this morning. As I sat there trying to skim past the vitriol spewing forth from news sources, churches, the LGBT community, friends, family, and strangers, I realized that it was unavoidable. Our country, our world, has been consumed by frenzied wrath orchestrated by hate-mongers who co-opted the shooting in Orlando as their own personal soap box for whatever cause they deem significant.

Everyone has an agenda. Everyone is supporting a cause that is greater than yours. Everyone has religious, political, moral, or social outrage that needs to be addressed, and it can only be satisfied by your total subservience and homage to their wrath.

And as much as I hate the destructive power of anger, I could feel it sweeping over me. The temptation to rise up, match their rage with my own, demand that they be silent before my more righteous cause, and in doing so merely add my voice to the ever rising din of fury.

Overwhelmed and sickened by it all, I shut off my phone and tried to pray, but all I felt was anger. So I prayed the only thing I could, “God, I need to see this from your perspective, because mine is too small.”

As I sat there trying to subdue my own churning feelings, thoughts began to form. Hurting people hurt people, cliché but true. Unhealed hearts cry out for vindication because they believe healing is impossible. Unredeemed scars fester with bitterness because they are seen as pointless pain. The powerless find power in their victimhood, and the scared lash out because they believe there is no one defend or save them from their terror. The tormented find their identity in their torment and allow their tormentors to define them. And the insecure justify their actions by the fear of those who challenge their stance and the affirmation of those who share in their insecurities.

What is the answer? Vision.

A vision of hope, a vision of healing, a vision of restoration, of deliverance, and purpose. A vision of who they are in the eyes of God, a vison of his love, protection, mercy, and grace. A vision of significance that exceeds personal agendas and political wrangling. A vision that allows us to know that we are more than who we have claimed to be and more than who the world wishes us to be. A vision that cuts across the boundaries of you and I. A vision that exceeds the confines that this world or even our own flesh places upon us. A vision that inspires and empowers us to dare to dream again, to fight again, and to simply be again.

We have lost that vision. We have polluted and degraded it until we are nothing more than creatures of our own making. We have defined ourselves according to titles and traits that are beneath us, and reveled in our right to do so.  We have cut ourselves and the cried because we bled, blaming another for actions, and refusing to take responsibility for the damage we have inflicted on ourselves. We surrendered our God given identities then scream because another dares to call us by the name of the beasts we have become. For while we hate truth, we are more than willing to use it as a knife upon another if it will make them look more like our disfigured selves.  Misery does love company, even if it is that of an enemy who shares in the pain we feel.

So we rage, we scream, we whip others into a frenzy to enjoy their company.  We justify our anger by pointing to the anger we have engendered in those around. We incite, and we riot with the incessant tapping of keys upon our keyboards. Hiding from reality even as we seek to define it for another with our words of hate.

The temptation that faces us all is to deny seeing this in ourselves, not the opposition, not those we have labeled as foe, and not those who dare to hold a view contrary to ours. For we can do nothing to alleviate or rescind their guilt, that is a task we must all face alone before our God. We must all find that place where we learn that our protests mean nothing before him, and our excuses are meaningless in light of his holiness. That place where we embrace the truth that we cannot vindicate or justify our fear and hate because another has allowed these things to rule in their hearts. Instead, we are to serve our King and Lord, refusing to let him be dethroned from hearts by the wrath of another.

And despite what we have been told, love is not enough. It never was. For love is an abstraction wit no real meaning apart from the one who embodies it, and our duty as believers is to embody that vision, the vision of the Father’s love for us and to the world. We cannot do that from a place of fear and rage. For if fear and rage is all we offer then how are they to see a Father who loves, a Father who forgives, who heals, and restores? For surely, they reason in their hearts, we have received none of these great gifts if that is all we have offer another. And I do not want to offer the world another lie upon which to cut themselves.

The Most Awful Verse In The Bible

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.  Romans 8:28

Okay, can we just real here for a second?

This verse is awful, and I mean it. Now don’t go acting all spiritual and holy on me now, because you know it is true and I can prove it. Just think back to the time when your life was falling apart, when a loved one was dying, you had lost your job, you were in the middle of divorce, facing financial ruin, or life in general was just kicking you around. Some idiot walked up to you and quoted this verse, and while your brain said, “Oh, yes this is right,” your heart was saying, “Fat lot of good that does me right now.”

They acted like they were curing cancer by slapping on a bandaid, and you were supposed to be grateful when deep down you knew you were still dying. And to make matters worse, they were busy patting themselves on the back being spiritual enough to quote the appropriate verse and you were supposed to join in the party for this little spiritual trick.

Ok, so I guess my problem is less with the verse and more with those of us who act like it is the magic cure for what ails you. It is what we pull out when there is nothing else to say, and we are feeling pretty helpless. We use it like a spell or magic charm against our pain, our discomfort in face of another’s suffering. We have learned that if we say the right words we get bypass all that icky emotion. We can justify our reluctance to get involved in a situation that might cost us something or make something that we don’t want to feel. It is easier to act like a Christian when you aren’t bogged down by all the baggage of human suffering, but is that what being a Christian is all about? Avoiding the pain of another so that we can live an unaffected life?

I don’t believe that is.

When I look back that life Jesus I keep tripping over this phrase, “and he was moved by compassion.” It comes up twelve times in the New Testament and is used solely for describing Jesus response to those in need and in his parable of the Prodigal Son. (Now, stand back, I’m going to break out the Greek.) The word in the Greek text is splagchnizomai, and it is one of those times when we are confronted by the limitations of the English language because compassion is so pale compared to the depth of this word. Splagchnizomai is the gut level, stomach turning, heart ripping yearning for an end to another’s pain because you feel it in the core of who you are.

Splagchnizomai doesn’t leave room for platitudes or clichés. It demands action even if all you can do in the moment is weep with another in their suffering, but there is also something amazing and beautiful about this word. Something awe inspiring and powerful to be found in its usage that should shake us from any desire to live an unaffected life – it is the word of miracles.

Five of the twelve times we find splagchnizomai, it is used as the description of Jesus’ emotions before he heals, before he feeds the masses, and before he stops the power of evil dead in its tracks. Notice Jesus is not removed from the situation, he not above it, or beyond the pain, he steps into the reality of those who are hurting and it is in the moment of unity with humanity that divine love is manifest. He moves from observer to participant, from knowing to experiencing, and in doing so draws the hurting into the experience of the divine.

I am often asked why we don’t see more miracles today, and I think this is the reason. We stopped feeling, we stopped allowing the pain of another to rip at our guts, and we started handing out hallmark greeting cards instead of stepping into the midst of another’s heartache. We hide behind our definition of holiness instead of being conformed to the image of holiness found in our Lord. We tried to make this faith less costly and did so by perverting the Scripture into a message far more comfortable and gentle to our delicate sensibilities.

After all, how often have you heard the rest of that passage in Romans 8, other than in a debate about predestination?

“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not to know what to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is in the mind of the Spirit because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be called the first born among many brothers. And for those he predestined he also called, and those he whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.”

See, the passage isn’t about someone else. It is about you. It is about me. It is about the Spirit groaning on our behalf for our weakness, and I believe one of our greatest weaknesses is the fear of feeling someone else’s suffering as if it were our own.  I believe that if we love God we will walk desire to rise above that fear and in that moment we get to experience and share in the goodness of God. And I believe that we are fulfilling our purpose when we respond, when we allow the pain of another to turn our guts with the power of love. When we trust God enough to go there, to allow ourselves to be conformed to the image of his Son in this way, we are becoming who are supposed to be, and maybe we are opening the door to the miraculous in the life of another.