Agape

This sentence in our book stopped me this morning: "But the agape of God defeats the world's brokenness."

We see a lot of brokenness in our world these days. And, we've all heard the word agape at one time or another in our walk of faith. We generally have a vague concept of it as the love that God has for us, a love that is unconditional and sacrificial. It is one way we see the Cross and Jesus' humility/love/sacrifice there.

As I ponder agape love, I keep coming back to a sense of deep humility. Real love is wanting what is best for the other; it is holding that person with an open hand rather than a closed fist.  It is not a focus on what that person is for us, what we want them to be. Unfortunately, we see the disciples do this with Jesus many times--they attempt to control and redirect his ministry and choice of persons with whom to engage.

It seems that many people I encounter these days who appear to be burned out may be because the word "humble" fell out of use in their life and spirituality.  Instead of knowing deeply that we are God's agents in the world, and God does the healing, reconciling and transforming, we slip in to believing that it is "all up to us." Yet, each week we go back to God's Word and the sacraments and it can and should be a humbling enterprise. 

Sharing the table with others, listening to God's Word, and then walking with people in their vulnerable times is humbling. At times it can leave you with a profound sense of powerlessness. In the midst all of those feelings there can still be a glimpse of God's agape, even a joy that keeps one alive, dedicated, attuned, and attentive. If I had to strive for cultivating one word in my spirituality, besides that of love, it would be striving for more humbleness as a way to God's agape. 

I am reminded of the rough-edged writer and priest, Brennan Manning. He wrote the following about life, grace, humility and the heart of God's agape:

“When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer.

To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God's grace means. As Thomas Merton put it, 'A saint is not someone who is good but who experiences the goodness of God.'

The gospel of grace nullifies our adulation of televangelists, charismatic superstars, and local church heroes. It obliterates the two-class citizenship theory operative in many American churches. For grace proclaims the awesome truth that all is gift. All that is good is ours not by right but by the sheer bounty of a gracious God. While there is much we may have earned--our degree and our salary, our home and garden, a Miller Lite and a good night's sleep--all this is possible only because we have been given so much: life itself, eyes to see and hands to touch, a mind to shape ideas, and a heart to beat with love. 

We have been given God in our souls and Christ in our flesh. We have the power to believe where others deny, to hope where others despair, to love where others hurt. This and so much more is sheer gift; it is not reward for our faithfulness, our generous disposition, or our heroic life of prayer. Even our fidelity is a gift, 'If we but turn to God,' said St. Augustine, 'that itself is a gift of God.'

My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it.” 

― Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out