Thursday, January 26, 2012

"Love to the loveless shown, that they may lovely be."

I've been struggling with lust, reader. I don't buy into the popular notion within Christianity that men are hardwired to lust with their minds, eyes, and bodies, because that mitigates my sin by differentiating it as normal, compared to the lust of a woman. Nor do I believe that my sin is mitigated by the immodesty of some girls on campus, though perhaps a case could be made here of multiple culpability...


In any case, this particular sin in my life causes me to seek out biblical definitions of proper love. We have one word called "love" that encapsulates numerous things, from my favorite ice cream to sports teams to a solitary girl. As I'm sure you may recognize, Greek has many words called "love." There is an unconditional love, a brotherly love, a committed sort of love, and an erotic love. The Bible is pretty clear: erotic love is restricted to and obligatory to a single person. I'm not sure on where I stand on re-marriage in the event of a death, so I won't go there, speaking of the future tense, but I am well-versed enough to make the case for past-fidelity. If our sins of spiritual adultery (what all sins [idolatry] ultimately boil down to) in this life condemn our souls as guilty before God unconditionally loves us (thinking temporally here, not referring to God's election from eternity past), how can we stain ourselves with physical adultery before we demonstrate our love to our spouses? I've also come to my senses after inappropriately carrying a conversation with a dear sister about what constitutes inappropriate (adulterous) behavior, so I won't go there either, until I have a much better understanding of covenants and the church. 


Interesting fact that I am too tired to write elegantly:
Attraction always proceeds love (of the non-erotic sort). This might seem obvious or a re-statement of tabloid articles, but I heard it in a Psychology classroom, so it MUST be true. Hah... right. Anyways, researchers did their tests and such, and found that someone who "loves" someone else will find them more attractive. Admittedly, the findings are a bit subjective, in that most of the evidence is based on the "viewers' " own admittance, but there were a few measurable aspects such as eye widening, body language, memory span, talkativeness, and plain-ole' touchy-feely. I was reminded of this when Jessica (William's fiance) said that "he struck her as handsome" after they had been dating for a while and were geographically reunited.

Title inspiration from a few songs:
Colplay's "A Message"

My song is love:
love to the loveless shown. 
...
Your heavy heart is made of stone.
...
My song is love unknown,
but I'm on fire for you, clearly.
You don't have to be alone;
You don't have to be on your own. 


Coldplay is a pretty cool band, and since I've been taking a Beatles Music History class, I figured I'd dust off some British music. Though they were inspired by the hymn below, the key message is changed from "My Saviour's love to me--Love to the loveless shown, that they might lovely be" to "I'm nothing on my own and I love you; please come home." While this sentiment resonates with the romantic within me, this marks this song decidedly in my mind as one of many God-is-my-girlfriend ambiguous love songs. This version apes two songs that are dear to me: Switchfoot's "On Fire," and the hymn "My Song is Love Unknown." I'll post a few key lyrics from each, because hey, italics are fun. 


...'Cause everything inside me looks like everything I hate;
You are the hope I have for change; You are the only chance I'll take
'Cause I'm on fire when You're near me;
I'm on fire when You speak
And I'm on fire burning at these mysteries. 
...
Ah, You're the mystery. 
--Switchfoot "On Fire"


Switchfoot is a band built on ambiguous love songs, so I took the liberty to interpret this song as being sung to God, thus the capital [ambiguous] second persons singular. I fully understand that the feeling of "being on fire" for someone (or God) is a widely written-on and sung-about topic, but Switchfoot's song is the one that came to mind.

Aaaaaand I'm going to cheat on "My Song is Love Unknown," because I like Fernando Ortega's modernized words (marked by an *) for a verse.

My song is love unknown--
my Saviour's love to me:
Love to the loveless shown,
that they might lovely be.
O who am I, that for my sake
my Lord should take 
frail flesh and die? 


*Why, what has my Lord done
to cause this rage and spite?
He made the lame to run,
and gave the blind their sight.
What injuries, yet these are why
the Lord Most High
so cruelly dies.


Here might I stay and sing
no story so divine:
never was love, dear King!
Never was grief like Thine.
This is my Friend, in whose sweet praise
I all my days
could gladly spend. 


This hymn is especially dear to me because of a particular sermon that chronicles redemptive history and culminates with the first verse of this song as its theme: My Song is Love Unknown .


Here's something I'd written about a year ago, and I think it applies nicely now.
I was reading C.S. Lewis's novel Till We Have Faces , and a line that the ugly, possessively loving sister thinks really stood out to me:
"No man will love you, though you gave your life for him, unless you have a pretty face. So (might it not be?), the gods will not love you (however you try to pleasure them, and whatever you suffer) unless you have that beauty of soul." -Orual, p. 282
But how wonderful that neither of these statements are true! Men of God, seeking to follow Him, should also (in my opinion) look not on the outside, but at the heart (I Samuel 16:8, Proverbs 12:4, 31:10-31), and our God mercifully does not save sinners based on the quality of our souls. Rather, as the apostle Paul so aptly puts it:

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  Romans 5:8

If Christ died for the church, and men of God are called to love their wives as Christ loves the church... now that's a sobering thought.

Citations:
Lewis, Clive Staples. Till We Have Faces. 

No comments:

Post a Comment