Most Christians have probably heard the line that the Christian life is a marathon, not a sprint, and we sort of get the idea; but since it would never occur to most of us to actually want to run a marathon, I don’t think the point really sticks with us. We understand that, yes, the life of faith is more than just brief bursts of activity, that there’s a necessary element of endurance there; but we still think that when it gets to the point that we don’t think we can run anymore, it’s OK to stop. The thing about running a marathon is, when you get to that point, that’s when you have to dig down and push through—and that’s the part of the parallel we lose. We basically believe that when it no longer makes any sense to us to keep trying, when we no longer seem to have any reason to do so, we can stop; but that’s not what Jesus calls us to. That’s not the radical obedience and radical discipleship he wants from us. Jesus calls us to a whole ’nother level of endurance.I got to thinking about that as I was reading Jared’s brilliant post, “Love Is Never a Waste.” It’s a long, deep post, and I won’t try to summarize it; but here’s an excerpt or two:
We likely all recall the time Peter came up to Jesus and basically asked, “When I can I stop forgiving someone who keeps wronging me? After seven times?” (I can almost hear him hoping, “Please tell me after seven times.”) But Jesus responds to him, saying “No, not seven times. Seventy times seven times.” . . .Now, Jesus is a smart guy. In fact, if we believe he is who he said he was, we know he has all the omniscience of the God of the Universe. So he knows this is a tall order. He knows it doesn’t “make sense” in our world of abuse and betrayal and pettiness and vindictiveness and pride and arrogance and egotism.So why does he do this? If he knows our capacity for love and forgiveness is finite, how can he call us to persevere in these things toward others? The short answer, I think, is because God Himself perseveres in them toward us. . . .Because God’s love toward us is a) despite sin worthy of eternal punishment, and b) relentlessly patient in its eternal perseverance, we have no Christian right to say to someone who has wronged us, even if they continue to wrong us, “You have reached your limit with me. My love for you stops now.” Doing so fails to truly see the depths of our sin in the light of God’s holiness. And if God, who is perfect and holy, will forgive and love we who are most certainly not, on what basis do we have to be unforgiving and unloving to others?I am guessing most of us agree with this in theory. There’s not too many Christians who will say, despite Jesus’ instructions, that it’s okay to hate your enemies and curse those who persecute you.I think the place where we really have trouble with this stuff is when it comes to people who are hurting us that we actually do really want to love. We really do want to keep forgiving them. But we are weary. They are wearing us out. We don’t know how much longer we can go on. We want to know if we can give up, but we’re scared what that might mean. Surely God does not want to us to keep enduring this pain. Surely he will understand if we just . . . give up. Things aren’t working. The results aren’t being seen. Efforts are not bearing fruit. I’ve changed, but he or she hasn’t.Most of us know 1 Corinthians 13 really well, but let’s revisit a piece of it again:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres . . . Love never fails.
That’s some scary stuff right there. For we who are used to thinking of love as romance or warm-and-fuzzies or butterflies or sex, Paul has Jesus in mind as the model of love when he tells us, “Love is about sacrifice and service. And it keeps going. It never fails.” . . .I don’t think “Love never fails” means “Love always gets the result the lover wants.” I think it means what it says: Love is not a failure.Love is not a failure regardless of the results.This is why: Because God is not a failure, and God is love. When we are loving someone with a persevering, sacrificial love, we are reflecting the eternal goodness and grace of God Himself. We are glorifying God, and there is no higher calling than that. None.We love—not because it will “change the world” (although it may)—but because God loves us (1 John 4:19). . . .Whatever happens, whenever it happens, your love is not in vain. You are not alone, for God loves you and has approved your love through the sacrifice of his Son. Cast off despair; cast all your cares on Him. Love never fails. Love is never a waste.
That’s powerful, true, and critically important; the problem is, we keep collapsing this to the limits of our own self-expectations. We know God says, “Never stop forgiving, never stop loving, rejoice in all things, love your enemies, turn the other cheek,” and the like, but we don’t believe he really means it; we get to a certain point where it just doesn’t make any sense to us to keep going, and we say to ourselves, “Surely God will understand if we quit now—surely he doesn’t want us to keep putting ourselves through this,” and then we quit. We quit because, as Jared says, we don’t see the results we want to see, and we’re quite sure we never will; we quit because it’s not reasonable to expect us to continue, forgetting that it wasn’t reasonable to expect Jesus to allow himself to be crucified for a bunch of smelly, vicious little ingrates, either. We quit because because it’s not fair to keep forgiving and forgiving someone who’s never going to change, forgetting that that’s pretty much what Jesus does for us; and we quit because the agony of loving someone who’s bound and determined to shipwreck themselves despite us is just too much to bear, forgetting that it’s in bearing precisely that agony that we are most truly sharing in the suffering of Christ.In short, we quit because we turn to God and say, “What more can you expect of me? I’m only human”; and he looks at us and responds, “No, you’re not. I’ve put my Spirit within you, and in me, you’re more than you think you are. That’s why I’m calling you to go beyond what you think you can do, beyond where you think it makes sense to stop, and trust me that it will be worth it in the end; I’m making you like me, and this is part of that work.” Ultimately, like everything else, this is rooted in trust in God—trust that we really can do what he’s calling us to do, and that it really will be for our good.At this point, someone’s probably asking, “Doesn’t this just open us up for abuse?”—to which the answer is, “No, but.” No, it doesn’t open us to abuse, because allowing people to abuse us isn’t actually a loving thing to do to them; that merely empowers them in their sin. But, avoiding being abused isn’t the highest good, either. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.” And you know what? He meant that, too. Our highest priority isn’t supposed to be self-protection; Jesus calls us to love and serve him by loving and serving others past the limits of what we think is safe, and trust that in truth, whatever happens, whenever it happens, indeed it won’t be in vain—because he who calls us is faithful.