Loving Reflections of Jesus

1 John 3:18-24 (The Message) My dear children, let's not just talk about love; let's practice real love. This is the only way we'll know we're living truly, living in God's reality. It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves.

And friends, once that's taken care of and we're no longer accusing or condemning ourselves, we're bold and free before God! We're able to stretch our hands out and receive what we asked for because we're doing what he said, doing what pleases him. Again, this is God's command: to believe in his personally named Son, Jesus Christ. He told us to love each other, in line with the original command. As we keep his commands, we live deeply and surely in him, and he lives in us. And this is how we experience his deep and abiding presence in us: by the Spirit he gave us.

What does it mean to really love each other as Christians? What does it mean to love a friend as God would have us love them? How do we practice this "real love" that John speaks of? I think Ray Stedman has his finger on it: When we love as mere humans we are only loving our own reflection projected onto someone else. When we love as Christians, we are loving the reflection of Jesus:

We must, of course, recognize that all love is from God. God is love, John tells us. Love pours from God into human hearts like sunshine and rain, upon the just and the unjust alike. No human being would love if he were not in some relationship, in some contact, with the God who is love. All love comes from God; the love of parents for children, the love of friends for friends, the love of sweethearts for each other -- all is a gift of God to the human race, like sunshine and rain, food, shelter and raiment, and all the other things that make life beautiful, happy and wholesome. But something happens to the love of God; this pure, unspotted love which comes from God's heart upon mankind.

As the love of God comes into the twisted, distorted heart of fallen mankind, it becomes twisted and distorted, deflected from its true goal, and in fallen man it becomes love directed only toward himself. This is what happens to love before Christianity comes. It is self-centered love. There is nothing wrong with love itself; it is the direction it takes, the object upon which it focuses, which distorts it. Love comes from God, true; but love in the fallen heart is always twisted and distorted and centered upon self. Therefore, the love we show as non-Christians is really a love of ourselves. We love our children because they are extensions of us. We love our father or mother because our life is related to theirs. We love our relatives (presumably) because they are ours. We love our dog, our cat, our horse. We love the friends who please us, we love those who help us. If you observe human life you will see how true this is. Love is always directed to those who do something to, or for, or receive from us. Therefore, what we really love is the projection of ourselves in others. Thus, human love is self-centered.

From THE PATH OF LOVE, by Ray C. Stedman

I don't completely agree with Stedman's broad generalities. I believe the non-Christian sentiment is a little overstated. The love a Hindu mother shows for her newborn child is not a distorted self-centered love. But I can see where he is coming from and find Truth shining from behind it.

Our pastor has mentioned several times in the past few years that we can only love one another to the extent that we know each other. I can only love a friend to the depths to which he or she is willing to take me. Likewise, a friend can only love me to the extent that I open up and trustingly bare the deepest parts of who I am. For it is only when I am exposed and vulnerable that a true friend can choose not to hurt me — can choose to show Christian love instead. It is only then that a friend can love the reflection of Jesus within me — the one who abides in the depths of who I am — the parts I keep well-covered and safely hidden most of the time.

This is agape love — the love from God with no strings attached, no expectations of repayment, no hidden agendas, and completely undeserved. Combined with eros love, it becomes the greatest experience of marriage. But as Christians, we need to extend our agape love not only to our Christian brothers and sisters, but also to our neighbors who do not yet know the love available to them through Christ and His people.

This love goes beyond knowing a friend's golf score, beyond the names and ages of their children, beyond birthdays and favorite TV shows. It even can delve deep beyond words. For if I hold a friend's face in my hands and see through their eyes as Christ sees them, I will see what no words can express. As tears well up, I share their pain, their grief, their sorrow, their frustrations — all in an instant. Or as a smile spreads widely across my face, I share their joys, their thrills, and join in their celebrations. Sealed with a hug or a Holy kiss, I pray that what subsequently comes from my lips are words from the Holy Spirit himself speaking the encouragement and praise that cancels all debilitating self-doubt and criticism.

… like a reflection of Jesus loving his own reflection in someone else.

But sometimes I resist being loved that much. I am afraid to let anyone touch me that closely. It is in these moments that I need to ask myself, "Why would I settle for anything less?"

We all need friends we can love with the untainted, unadulterated, unwavering love of Jesus. We all need friends who are the rocks in our lives. The ones who — when our love comes out a little crooked or self-centered — can lovingly set us straight and give us lots of "do-overs." That is easy and safe for those precious friends who God brings together. This is the joy of loving deeply within the "home" of our own Christian community.

But I am called to love outside of my home — it is the second of our two Commandments. I need to cross the property lines to where I am most vulnerable. It is that vulnerability that leads to most joyful blessings. As I train on the practice field with my friends at home, I can only become a stronger friend for the unloved, the poor, and the needy — the ones Jesus would have me love boldly and freely — the ones who are my neighbors.

"But, Lord? Where do I find a friend like that?"

"Start by seeking my reflection in someone else."

"Are you going to bring me that person?"

"I already have, but you were not watching. Look again. They may not be who you expect them to be."