I admit it. I can fool myself into thinking that I am loving by thinking about being loving. A loving heart is good, but it must give birth to living action. Says Mark Labberton, “it needs to show up in flesh and blood, time and energy” (Called, p.79).
I sense a holy fear and humble reverence for the celebration of the Passover on this Maundy Thursday, marking the Lord’s Last Supper with his disciples before he was betrayed and sentenced to death on the cross. He knows our hearts. He knows my heart–a jumbled, turning mix of devotion and rebellion–and he continues on the path to Good Friday.
God’s love is not weak-willed or half-hearted. No. He shows up in sweat and flesh and blood. His offering of peace for this heart is hard-won. His sweaty, bloody love offering of peace–in the Passover as well as in the events that followed Gethsemane–reconciles my heart. Fueled by an other-worldly love, he is making it whole and full, true in word and action.