So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.
Matthew 5:23-24 (ESV)
The lyrics in many of today’s contemporary Christian worship songs center on the love of God. The love of God is a universal thread woven throughout the Bible—especially the New Testament—and it’s certainly no surprise that it occupies a prominent place in our worship music. In many of these songs, however, the lyrics primarily concern God’s love for us with little emphasis on Christ’s command to love others. In other words, we emphasize the vertical while giving little (or less) thought to the horizontal.
If you stop and think about some of the songs you are likely singing in your church, you may find yourself agreeing that in some strange way lyrics like these can actually have the effect of causing us to focus more on ourselves than others—or even God. Singing about how much God loves me ultimately directs my thoughts toward . . . me! At some point, it starts to feel like a me-centered gospel I’m celebrating as I sing these types of songs. To compensate for this, I consider whether I love others the same way the lyrics assure that God loves me. Here’s an example from a popular song:
No sin, no shame, no past, no pain
Can separate me from Your love
No height, no depth, no fear, no death
Can separate me from Your love
What sin, what shame, what past experience or pain have we allowed to separate us from someone else? We sing the above lyrics and rejoice that nothing of the sort separates us from God’s love, but do such things cause us to withhold our love from others?
This is what I mean by compensating for the potentially me-centered effect of such lyrics. Are these lyrics “wrong”or deficient in some way? Am I saying we shouldn’t sing of how much God loves us? Am I criticizing the writers of such songs? No, no, and no. I am simply sharing this perspective as a means of setting up what now follows.
A couple of months ago I stumbled upon a 5-part sermon series by Andy Stanley called Brand New (find it here). In this series, Andy contrasts what he refers to as the Temple model of religion with what he describes as the Jesus model. While it’s not my intent to regurgitate this message, I do wish to reflect on the significance of the new command Jesus gave that was to be the hallmark of His followers: Love one another.
Several times in this sermon series, Stanley refers to the above passage in Matthew, and each time he follows it with three interesting words: “God can wait.”
God can wait? It nearly sounds like blasphemy. Taken in context, however, this pithy statement accurately describes how serious Jesus is that mending a broken relationship is more important than presenting an offering to God. Stated differently, if I am not right with my brother, then I am not right with God. And no amount of vertical worship will compensate for an unresolved horizontal issue with my brother.
God can wait . . . and He will. He’s the most patient Being in the universe, and He’s in no hurry to hear the next great set list of worship songs. He would rather we make things right with our brother than to hear another word of praise from our lips or see how much money we put in the offering basket. Such reconciliation would be a much more pleasing offering to God.
When certain Jewish believers began to subvert the grace of God by insisting that the Gentile believers in Galatia needed to keep the law (specifically, circumcision), Paul wrote a letter to remind them that they had been called to freedom. He went on to say, “Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’” (Galatians 5:13-14 ESV).
Years later, the apostle John writes a letter and references a command he says is not new but old, and yet he says it is new. Sound confusing? Let’s read it:
Dear friends, I am not writing you a new command but an old one, which you have had since the beginning. This old command is the message you have heard. Yet I am writing you a new command; its truth is seen in him and in you, because the darkness is passing and the true light is already shining.
1 John 2:7-8 (NIV)
So what is this command that is not new but old, and yet is new?
Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.
Leviticus 19:18 (NIV)
It’s easy to see how this is an old command—one they had since the beginning—given that it is found in the inaugural canon of Scripture (i.e. the Torah). But this same command can also be seen as a new command if/when we lose sight of it and need a reminder. When a truth ceases to bear fruit in our lives, a reminder of that truth can have the same effect as if we were hearing it for the first time, thereby making it seem new.
Whoever says, “I know him,” but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in that person. But if anyone obeys his word, love for God is truly made complete in them. This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did.
1 John 2:4-6 (NIV)
Living as Jesus lived means loving as Jesus loved.
On the night of His betrayal, Jesus girds Himself with a towel and washes His disciples’ feet. When He is finished, He sits down and asks, “Do you understand what I have done for you?” (John 13:12 NIV).
I am quite certain they have not a clue as to the significance of what He has just done. As they sit there dumbfounded, Jesus continues, “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” He then punctuates His lesson with this final statement: “Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them” (John 13:12 NIV).
Now that we know these things, let us not keep God waiting.
