People were once projects to me. Objects to win over to a cause. I make myself nauseous when I think about it. In a Travellers Cafe in Malaysia, in darkened wine bars, over sushi lunches I’ve declared myself the worst of these. Begged forgiveness for the blemishes I put all over the church, forgiveness for the blemishes the church puts all over my reputation. I had it all backwards and mixed up.
How dare I add to the magnificent work he has done? What he whispered over the finale, what my bible reads in blood-red is Love. That is it. There is no pretense in this, no agenda, no ulterior motive. I choose love…His and yours.
So on this Good Friday, again I beg sorry. If you’ve ever felt less than an object of affection in my presence. If you’ve ever felt that I was trying to fix you up or make you better…forgive me. I got it wrong. I am only a recipient of this radical grace gift, celebrated especially today. Love is by no means, neat, tidy and clean…I’m not always good at it.
But, my friends, this love of mine? It is sincere and I will spend the last of my breath proving it to you.