I Corinthians 13 1st In Series 3/1/09
Howard Hughes had it all. He was one of the wealthiest people in the world. He was a world famous aviator, industrialist, and film director. He was even awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. It seemed like anything he touched turned to gold. And yet, at the end of his life he was a recluse, only allowing two or three people into his inner sanctum and then only infrequently. He trusted no one and he died alone. He had so neglected himself, he had so withdrawn into himself, that he was unrecognizable to anyone. He was 6'4" tall and weighed only ninety pounds. The FBI finally had to fingerprint him to determine his true identity.
And why did this happen? There are many answers, but one of them, the one I think that is most likely, is love --- a lack of love. He could not let anyone in and he could not reach out to others. Love was just too big a chance for him to take, for love puts you on the line. It requires that you give of yourself freely and completely, and that you make yourself vulnerable to being hurt. As Robert Schuler says, "It takes courage to love," and Howard Hughes did not have that kind of courage.
The tragedy is that people who choose not to love are never happy people. Their lack of love atrophies their own souls and they wind up living on the edge of desperation. You see, we must have love for our lives to be filled with joy, but what kind of love?
I love ice cream and chocolate. I love to read murder mysteries. I love my best friend. I fell in love once, but it didn't work out. I love this church. I love my job. I love my God.
But to best understand what true love is, the kind of love Paul talks about in Corinthians, we need only look at the life of a single woman, a woman who lived at the same time as Howard Hughes, but whose story is so very different with a different kind of ending.
At twelve years old, Mother Teresa felt the call from God to spread the love of Christ. On May 1931 she took her vows to become a nun on the mission fields of India. She was assigned to teach in one of the catholic schools there, but her heart was breaking over the lost souls of the destitute living in unlivable situations, in a poverty we can not even imagine. They were the "untouchables."
Finally, after years of petitioning, Mother Teresa was given permission to leave the convent and work with those whom no one else could, or would, love. The stench in those slums would make the novice physically sick. Running sores were an everyday occurrence. Men and women and even children were disfigured by the grinding poverty. In the end, Mother Teresa gave hope to the hopeless with a love that knew no end.
Eventually she began her own order; the Missionaries of Charity that is still dedicated to bringing her particular brand of love all over the world, for there are no "untouchables" in Christ.
She died as the most beloved woman in the world -- respected, admired, trusted by believer and atheist alike, living the love so many of us only talk of.
So we have a shining example of God's love - the love He is calling us all too - a love of decision and commitment - a love that does not depend on mere emotion - a love that helps us love even the most unlovable.
It's important to note that that is the kind of love Paul talks of, and we can see that in his careful choice of words. You see, the Greeks had three different words for love.
The first is eros - a physical, sexual love - the love of passion, the love of romance. This type of love burns hot and rushes through the blood so that all you can think of is your beloved. At its height, the Greeks considered it a form of madness, and it still seems that way today.
People have been known to kill their rivals in order to possess the one they love - and possession is the key. Too often in sexual love we want to "own" the one we desire. We want to "make" them ours. We are more concerned with our needs than theirs.
But then there is the second kind of love: philia by name. It is the love found between life-long friends. It is based on mutual care and respect. It is nurtured by long phone conversations or meetings over cups of tea, or the casual beer shared on a hot summer day. It grows in secrets shared, advice given, It is there in times of laughter and times of tears. It is an emotional love based on trust, and it can be destroyed when that trust is broken.
Finally, there is agape - a word for love that was not used often until Paul and John used it to talk of the never-ending love of God and the love He commands us to live and give. Hear these words of Jesus: "Love the Lord Your God, with all your heart, mind, body and soul, and love your neighbors as yourself."
It is a love of decision and commitment - not a love of emotion or feeling. It must be a whole-hearted yes in the face of any obstacle. It is a love that demands we care, even when we do not like, and may even hate, the other person.
It is not a love that comes naturally. It is not easy, or even safe. There are risks involved, but the alternative is damnation to the lovelessness and loneliness of hell.
Our love, like Christ's love, must be transformative, working to change others into the person God created them to be - bringing out the very best in those we have contact with, even when their best is hard to see.
I love the poem called the Master's Hand because it reflects the miracle of this kind of love so well through the story of a violin:
It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
Hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three",
But, No,
From the room far back a grey haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet,
As sweet as the angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.
"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.
The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."
And many a man with life out of tune,
All battered with bourbon and gin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin.
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.
But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Master's Hand.
Someone out there is waiting for the touch of the master, longing and waiting for love. May they find that love, that touch in your hands and in mine.
