LOVELESSNESS

“Why do you pursue me as God does? Will you never get enough of my flesh?” (19:22)

People are fond of posing the dual questions, “Why is there so much suffering in the world?” and, “Why doesn’t God do something about it?” Strangely, however, we seldom think to ask the deeper and more pertinent questions, “Why is there so little love in human hearts?” and, “Why don’t we do something about it?”

The greatest mystery in the book of Job is not why Job suffers, but why a man crippled by suffering is forced to fight a long, drawn-out theological battle with people who are supposed to be his friends. Or, to pose the same puzzle in contemporary terms, why is it that in most churches people who are in deep need find so little real help? Why doesn’t the church of Christ, whose beliefs are supposedly grounded in love, have more love in it? Paul wrote that believers should be taught to be “sound in faith, in love, and in patience” (Titus 2:2). Yet as D. L. Moody commented on this verse, “The church has been very jealous about men being unsound in the faith. If a man becomes unsound in the faith, they draw their ecclesiastical swords and cut at him. But he may be ever so unsound in love, and they don’t say anything.” Why is this so? Why is the commandment of Jesus to “love one another” so watered-down and ignored? Why do Christians waste precious time and energy wrangling over a whole host of other less important issues?

In all fairness, it must be admitted that before real love can actually happen between Christians, the other great doctrines of the faith must be firmly in place. No doubt this is what much of the wrangling is about, and it may be that some of it is constructive wrangling. But as Alexander Whyte wrote, “Rather let the truth of God suffer, than that love suffer.” When Christ said to the Church of Ephesus, “You have forsaken your first love” (Rev. 2:4), He was speaking to Christians who had worked hard for the Lord and whose doctrine was impeccable. As Paul warned, “The entire law is summed up in a single command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ If you keep on biting and devouring each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other” (Gal. 5:14-15).

As we saw in the last chapter, it is not the strong, happy, hardworking people, but rather the suffering ones who are the soul of a church. For, in the words of Martin Luther, the message of faith in Christ “has a good savor for all who are afflicted, downcast, troubled, and tempted, and these are the ones who understand the gospel.” Hence the Lord says, “I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy” (Ezek. 34:16). Unfortunately, the political control of a church is commonly in the hands of the sleek and the strong, and often it is the case that these strong people have very little meaningful contact with the weak. Even if the strong must be involved with the weak face-to-face, in their hearts it is easy enough for them to pass by on the other side. It is hard for them really to be concerned about those who suffer with the same all-consuming concern that they have for themselves. Besides, for all their strength, the strong cannot actually help the weak at all. Only Jesus can help them. Only Jesus Himself can help both the weak and the strong together. Only Jesus can strengthen the weak and save the strong from the oblivion of their self-confident lovelessness.

Even if we are people who have known real suffering ourselves (and who has not?), once we bounce back we so easily forget what it was like to be miserable and sick. We forget that all of us are constantly, chronically sick, sick unto death. We forget that being “wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked” (Rev. 3:17) is the unchanging condition of every human being in this world, a condition from which even the greatest saint does not graduate this side of Heaven. Is not the purest soul still infested with countless faults, weaknesses, and old hurts from which it will never be delivered in this life? This is precisely why we all need to receive and to give the only truly healing medicine, which is love. The most precious service we can perform for another person is not to free him from a problem, but to love him in it, for “love covers over a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8). No matter how much we may specialize in holiness, or no matter how saintly and spiritual we become, we are bound to miss a few sins here and there. But to love is to cover them all.

Mason, M. (2002). The Gospel According to Job: An Honest Look at Pain and Doubt from the Life of One Who Lost Everything. Crossway.