Jesus' command to love hasn't escaped my notice. When asked what the greatest commandment was, Jesus agreed that it was to love God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength and to love our neighbor as ourselves. It seems so clear, yet, I find it difficult.

As I spend time with the spiritual masters (and I include John Wesley in that category) I find they keep returning to love as the goal of the spiritual life. Is that what it is really all about? Love? To be honest, that was kind of a let down. I would venture that most people would say they love, and love well. So, why spend so much time focusing on love if we already love?

Wesley has help me see that the love he was taking about, Jesus talked about and the spiritual masters talked about is of a different degree (Wesley's word) or quality (my word) than what I usually experience or practice. Wesley believed that being perfect was being perfect in love; a love that wasn't marred by human sin (jealousy, self-will, pride, greed, etc.). It is a pure love. The kind of love that Jesus displayed when he prayed, "Not my will but yours." The kind of love we see on the cross. The kind of love that is characterized by grace, compassion, patience, and self-denial.

I realize, now, I love poorly. So my prayer has become, "Jesus teach me to love." After all, that is the goal.

Right now I'm preaching a sermon series on Ephesians. Paul says that at one point we were all dead spiritually speaking (Eph 2:1). He even says we "were by nature children of wrath like everybody else." (Eph. 2:3) There's no getting around it in Paul. We are all in the same boat. If we have not made the transition from death to life by appropriating God's gracious gift (Eph. 2:8), then we are still dead.

This is really good news because Paul tells us that God made us alive even when we were dead! (Eph. 2:4) So even if we are dead spiritually, God is more than willing to make us alive in Christ.

In his commentary on Ephesians, N. T. Wright makes a connection between Ephesians 2:8-10 which discusses God's gracious gift and Luke 7:36-51 which is the story of the 'sinful woman.' I think this is an appropriate link to the Gospel, but leaves me with a question that causes me concern.

The story is about a woman who comes in and pours perfume on Jesus' feet while he is at the party of a Pharisee. Simon, the Pharisee, sees what is taking place and begins thinking that if Jesus was really a prophet, he would know what kind of woman this was and not let her touch him.

Well, apparently, Jesus did know what kind of woman this was and took her actions as a sign of gratitude that she had been forgiven. Jesus then puts Simon on the spot by asking him who would be more grateful (or love more), the one who was forgiven a debt of a few dollars, or of many dollars. Even Simon knew the one who was forgiven the most would be the most grateful.

Jesus then points out how Simon didn't even show the smallest expression of graciousness or gratefulness in welcoming Jesus into his home. Yet, this woman continued to wash his feet with her tears and anoint him with her perfume. Why the difference? Simon didn't see his need, but the woman did. Because of that Simon didn't offer any expression of love, but the woman did.

As I reflect on being dead in my trespasses and sins (Eph. 2:1), and how God has made me alive even when dead, I realize how much like Simon I am. That leads me to the question that causes me concern: What kind of response do I offer? It seems like going to church once a week, praying on the run, rushing through Scripture, or any other type of spiritual 'guilt' appeasement doesn't reflect the kind of depth and gratitude God's gracious act deserves. You know what I mean...the things we do to say we did them. Our hearts might not be in the act, or we might feel that we 'just don't have the time' so we do what small things we can so we can call it done. Do our practices reflect what we know about our need and God's response?

Maybe we love little because we don't understand or realize the depth of our need and the extent of our dilemma. When we do get a sense of that dilemma and what God has done so we might be free, then we might be able to start living lives of grateful response to God's act in Christ. I have a feeling our lives will begin to look vastly different.

Lately I've found myself hopeful. This is unusual. I'm not usually that hopeful. In fact, I'm usually kind of a cynic. After all, what do I have to be hopeful about? I'm involved in a denomination that is struggling to survive. We don't understand the culture. We can't seem to figure out what we are doing wrong, yet we continue to offer up grand plans and ideas of structural changes (some drastic) that we believe will make a difference in, what I believe, is an ontological problem.

I find myself serving a church that has a wonderful history, but finds it difficult to reach outside the walls. The people are wonderful and loving, yet they find themselves fully involved in their own survival. The church struggles to make ends meet and has been doing so for at least the past 12 years. People continue to give more money each year, but the increases in insurance, energy costs and salaries leaves us wondering how we will continue from year to year. Leaders are difficult to find and it seems once leaders are found they are relocated for employment purposes. Yet, our church seems to be fairing better than the majority in our denomination.

So, where do I find hope? Where do I find consolation? To be honest it is a place where I wouldn't have guessed. I shouldn't be surprised, yet, I am. For I am finding hope in the parables of Jesus.

I find hope when I read that the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed. It is so small...the smallest of all seeds, yet, from that seed a mighty shrub grows. One where the birds can find protection from the storms. One that is stronger and bigger than any other. When I read that, I have hope.

I have hope when I read of the farmer going out and sowing seed. He sleeps, he awakes, he sleeps again and that seed sprouts and grows. He doesn't even know how it is happening, but it is. Then, at the right time, the harvest comes. When I read that, I have hope.

I have hope when I read about the man who found a treasure in a field and hid the treasure. He went back home and sold everything he had! Everything! He then we back and purchased that field and he was overjoyed. He gave up everything he had so he might embrace the one thing that could bring him joy. That brings me hope.

Jesus says God's kingdom is like plants that grow, even though we don't know why, and the smallest seed becoming the largest shrub, and a man giving up everything he has to embrace the One Thing that brings joy. I'm realizing that the kingdom of God isn't about me. It is about God and what God is doing in this world. I can't orchestrate it. I can't control it. I can't even really understand it or at times even see it happening. It's okay when small things happen. It's okay when I don't understand where I'm being called. It's okay that I am being asked to give up all that I have, so I might embrace the kingdom God invites me too. It's okay, because God's kingdom brings hope.

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