Here are my two little men…
Reece
Mason
Such lookers they are…
And The Second Is Like It…
“‘Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?’ Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all you mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.’”
Matthew 22:36-40
“And the second is like it…” The second greatest commandment is like the first. It supports it, comes along side of it, and, perhaps, even fleshes it out a bit, brings it closer to home. I have been able to recite these verses from memory for many, many years now. They were a significant part of my childhood Sunday School curriculum, church camp experiences, undergraduate worship planning, and even seminary education. I know much about these verses. I know that these verses stem from the Shema, the Hebrew confession of faith found in Deuteronomy 6:4-9. I know that Matthew was largely writing to an audience of Jewish Christians who would without doubt recognize these commandments. I know that Jesus spoke these words after having establish a considerable amount of authority among the people, the type of authority that made demons, disease, and doubt cower in His presence. I know a lot. However, only in the past few months have I considered the words, “And the second is like it…”
A huge part of loving God with all of me is to love my neighbor, not only the elderly woman living in the apartment next to me, but the coworker sitting next to me who breathes negativity, the punk-ass kid bagging my groceries, the panhandler standing at the corner of Colorado and I-25, the African children dying from AIDS in Uganda, and my family, both immediate and distant. I get this part. I get what loving my neighbor is supposed to look like. My frustration, however, is usually my failure to do it. Over and over again, “Why am I such a jerk? Why don’t I notice them and love them like I should? Why?” Because I only remember the first half of the second greatest commandment. If I were to read the entire verse, I would find, “as yourself.” And that is where my worship breaks down.
You see, in order to love my neighbor, and, ultimately, in order to love my God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength, I have to love myself. I have to wrap my mind and heart around the truth that I was created in the image of God. I was fashioned and formed with unique characteristics, quirks, talents, and opinions. I was carefully carved with purpose. He looked at me with joy and said, “She is good.” For some reason, I have convinced myself that acting in humility equals not loving myself. I have surrendered my individual thoughts, emotions, opinions and creative expressions and have become an unidentifiable human chameleon. Somewhere over the years, I grew weary. I’m not sure I could pin point any specific day, but at some point, I decided that it was easier to please the person in front of me than to place my feet firmly on the foundation of me, firmly on the foundation of a woman who loves Jesus and loves herself. And, as I grew weary, I began to forget me. I have found myself in a vacuum of confidence and calling. Even as I write this, it is genuinely hard to populate a list that bears this title:
“This is who I am, and I love this about me…”
So, how can I begin to love my neighbor or my God unless I start loving myself? How can I expect a living God to dwell in a temple that I view as unimportant, damaged, worn out, or even nameless? Answer: I cannot. I’m not even sure I’m in a place to declare some radical plan of action in order to correct my distorted perspective. But, I can say that for the past two weeks this has been the prayer pouring unceasingly from my heart:
“Lord, Jesus, awaken your Holy Spirit in me.”
And I believe that He is.
I am a follower of Jesus Christ, broken and fallen, but saved by grace. And I’m not giving up.
And that’s what I like about me.
