Abide in my love

Sadly, the truth of it is that it is hard enough for me to love those who love me, let alone those who do not.  So the new commandment that Jesus laid on his followers, “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 15: 12), seems to be the opposite of ‘good news’; really just another impossible demand laid upon me, another reason to feel guilt at my utter inability to follow. How can I possibly love as he loved?  Jesus loved not only his followers but also the Samaritan woman, enemy of his people; he loved the centurion, oppressor of his people; he loved the servant of the high priest who had come to arrest him; he even loved those who were actively crucifying him. And yet John insists that his commandments are not burdensome! (1 John 5: 3)

Of course, I do know why I find his commandments burdensome and that is simply because I don’t remember often enough that his first requirement was, “Abide in my love.” Now, when I hear the word, ‘abide’, I tend to immediately think of the old hymn, Abide With Me, probably because that was the only place I ever heard the word used. But as I thought of that hymn here, I realized that it is reversing what Jesus said, asking him to abide with me rather than that I may abide with him. And I thought of how many of our prayers and hymns are asking exactly that of God; to be with us, to be close to us, to help us in what we want to do. But Jesus is clear: first and foremost, abide with me, abide in my love.

Then, as I thought about abiding in Jesus, realizing that I was thinking of it as a quiet, passive, waiting for something to happen time, I was reminded of an experience, years ago, when I first watched the Hell or High Water event in Petawawa. ‘Hell or high water’ generally means for us ‘the worst that can possibly happen’ and is usually attached to a promise, such as “I’ll be there, come hell or high water!’”  But in Petawawa, it is an annual event, held in the spring when the water is still running high, in which kayakers, canoeists, and rafters race down the rapids of the Petawawa river.  I had only just heard about the event at a funeral I was conducting so, when the funeral was done, I went on down to the river to watch.  

There I stood, on the bank of the river in my formal clergy outfit, much to the amusement of some of the participants who didn’t seem sure whether I was there to bless the race or to offer last rites. But I watched in some awe as kayakers raced their tiny ‘playboats’ through rapids that looked like certain death to me. More, I saw others playing in standing waves that, I had always been warned as a canoeist, were a deathtrap.  One had his bow caught by the front of the wave, driving his boat under, but he just did a complete forward flip and returned to surfing the wave as if nothing had happened.  Then I saw him do it again, clearly on purpose this time!  They were having such fun that I kind of wished I was out there myself, death trap or not!

I realize that this event came to mind because what they were doing, those people playing in the rapids, was abiding in the river. It was not a static or dull abiding. They weren’t just sitting there waiting—they were at home, utterly comfortable, exulting in the power and the joy of the river. They had been there before, they were used to it, they were experienced, and so they knew how to use the power to create the joy. Me, I was just a spectator, a visitor, watching from the safety of the shore but longing to be a part of the action.

Too often that’s the way I am with Jesus. I visit, drop in for a chat, but I don’t abide. But I long for more, so I pray, ‘Be with me!’ Or I sing, ‘Abide with me!’  If, however, I want the real joy, if I want to be a part of the action, then I need to jump in, to take the plunge and abide with him. The more I do that, the more I learn to read and use the currents of his love, the power of his love, the more I find myself playing in those currents, lifted by the waves, racing through the rapids, even flipping now and again to immerse myself in that refreshing love. Then indeed, the commandment to love is not a burden but a part of the adventure, a joy in itself.  I might even find myself actually looking for opportunities to love, just as those kayakers were looking for waves to play in.

So may it be for all of us who love the Lord.  Amen.