This is a rare Sunday for me. Our church isn't having services this morning, so I'm not scrambling to get music together and scare up some breakfast for us and pack after-church clothes to take to Mother and Daddy's. And I have to admit, it's a relief not to make the drive from Birmingham. (Not that it's a day's journey or anything, but 50 miles round trip is kind of a long way to go to church.) I am, as my Granny used to say, "doing my praying at home" this Sunday:) And I'm sitting on the deck, looking through the little notebook I keep as I read my Bible. I noticed that I often flag a verse with a person: Remember when Bernice Kidd told us this story in Sunday School (about the poor widow who gave the only two coins she had); remember what Mrs. Glenn had to say about this (God's gift of love).
Mrs. Jenny Glenn was my piano teacher—and the wife of a Baptist pastor, whom she often addressed, affectionately, as "Preacher." Some of the happiest moments of my childhood were spent side-by-side with her at a beautiful old Chickering spinet that was the centerpiece of her living room. She always tried to guide me in one of two directions: classical composers like Mozart and Chopin or gospel composers like the Gaithers and John W. Peterson. I could make occasional forays into movie themes, like "Tammy" and "Theme from Love Story," but she didn't much care for pop fluff on the radio. Even so, whenever I was particularly enamored of a Top 40 hit, she would give in and order the sheet music from Forbes in downtown Birmingham. One song, however, got her very riled up. I'm surprised she didn't call up Burt Bacharach and Hal David and give them a piece of her mind. It was "What the World Needs Now Is Love," which had become popular a few years before I started taking piano lessons. By the time I took the bench around 1969, Mrs. Glenn was still mad about it.
What riled her was the notion that God had not supplied the world with all the love it needed: "God GAVE us the gift of love!" She was right. Sadly, love is a divine gift we often squander—or are too scared to share. What if I look stupid? What if it's not returned? What if I get hurt? What if I'm disappointed? The thing is, we're not supposed to look at it that way. We're not supposed to worry about what's in it for us—we're supposed to focus on what we can give to other people, without expecting anything back. Tough to do, right? But there's no doubt it's our calling.
I just read the passage in the Gospel of John where Jesus washes His disciples' feet. And Peter initially reacts the way we might have. Roughly paraphrased: "But—but—but—you can't DO that! You're our Lord!" Once Jesus had washed all the disciples' feet, he said, "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you" (John 13:15). It was an example of humility, service, and love.
When the Last Supper was over, and Judas Iscariot had set out for the ultimate betrayal, Jesus told his disciples:
A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.
John 13: 34-35
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