Jesus Loves You (Part III)

            The third and final installment of the only series that my blog has ever contained.  This is the third one.  The big one.  This is when people overly romanticize the movie and make it seem greater than it actually is and give it 11 Oscars and use it in sermons just to try and appear like a cool church.  If it’s not brought home in this one, then the whole series is worthless and I sold out after number two and the ending wasn’t thoughtfully considered.  So, no pressure or anything.

            We’re going to be looking at the last word of the phrase, “Jesus Loves You”.  We (meaning I) have already decided that Jesus wasn’t just a historical figure, wasn’t just a good man or teacher, but was an all-powerful God.  We (meaning I and whoever already believed it before reading my blog) have also decided that this all-powerful God kind of is crazy about us.  Kind of madly in love with humanity.  My goal in this one is just to clarify something: that Jesus doesn’t just love humanity, but He loves you. 

            This may not seem to be a huge or significant distinction, but it is a realization that has wildly affected the periods in my life when I actually got it.  It’s easy to lose hold of, but worth holding onto, like Jell-O or a sweaty baby. 

            Here’s the distinction between Jesus loving humanity as a whole, and Jesus loving you.  If you believe that Jesus only loves humanity as a whole, you are going to consider yourself the exception, like you always do with any rule or writing that you’ve ever heard.  Don’t lie to yourself, it’s like how I always feel like I’m the exception to my parents’ rule of not dating in high-school.  It’s different because the world revolves around me.  Thus, I think of myself as the exception and am incredulous when I’m not.  That’s what humans do.  We don’t consider ourselves a part of the system, but outside of it, greater than it or lesser than it. 

            Be honest with me.  If I told you that I loved your family so much and that y’all are so great, would you really care?  Not that you wouldn’t, but would you hold onto that compliment as something that holds great meaning?  Would it weigh more if I narrowed my statement and told you that I loved YOU and that YOU are incredible and that I’m incredibly blessed to know YOU?  That holds more weight.  It’s more vulnerable for me.  Because if I like a family, then I’m not really committing to anything.  It’s vague.  If I like YOU though, I’m committing to acting like it.  I’m committing to showing you why you’re important to me.  It holds more weight.

            This is why we should not be content with theology that says that Jesus loves the world as a whole, that He loves mankind overall.  As long as we believe only that, our views of God’s actions on the cross don’t mean as much.  Maybe I would die on a cross if it meant the eternal future of every single person who has ever lived.  But if I pursue one person, even to the point of death, that means something.  That means that I’m wild about them.  This is why this you is so significant.  I’m never going to marry a woman who just says that she loves my family.  I’m going to marry a woman who loves me.  As arrogant as it sounds, isn’t it truth?  That I’m not going to be blown away that my wife loves my family, because that doesn’t take commitment! Maybe her love for my sisters compensates for her repulsion to me.  I as a human being need to be loved individually and uniquely.  

            And so it is that many people come into church week after week and are never moved by the Gospel, never brought to a saving knowledge of Jesus.  It is because they believe themselves to be the exception to God’s love.  “He can’t love me even with my….” “He doesn’t love me because I……”  “He didn’t die for me because I can’t….”  “I didn’t…..” “I failed.” “I continue to fail.” “I messed up, and the dirt is still on me, defining me like a scarlet letter.” 

            It’s easy to see why God would love other people.  They seem to have everything under control.  The pastor in the pulpit used to deal with things, but became a Christian and now never struggles with failure.  The people in the row next to you grew up in church.  The guy writing the blog refers to his mess-ups in the past tense.  But you must be the exception.  Jesus doesn’t love you because of your condition.  Because of your failure.  Because of your mess. 

            And yet He doesn’t stop chasing you.

            This God of the universe who has made you and knew your failures before you were conceived, who planned out your very being, who mapped out the essence of you, has never stopped chasing you.  This God whose emphasis is on the marginalized continues to chase you, to woo you, to pursue you.  He doesn’t just love mankind as a whole, He’s crazy about you.  He thinks about you.  Not to make this melodramatic or anything, but what’s crazy to me is the possibility of Jesus on the cross saying, “Just a little more, for Ben.”  He’s crazy about you, He can’t stop thinking about you, and you’ll finally understand why people get so hyped about Christianity.  You’ve tried being a Christian in the past and didn’t get anything from it, not because there’s something wrong with Jesus, but there was something wrong in your understanding of Him.  This is why I’m passionate.  This is why I get worked up when I talked about Jesus.   Because Jesus loves me.