What does "loving one another" really mean?

Mark Smith posted this in the Classical Presbyterian blog comment section (scroll down to get the whole comment):
"[T]he church should be clear on what it considers the most important facets of Christ-like behavior. If you sat down and wrote out a list of Christ-like behaviors, I really don't think sexuality is even in the top 20."
He offered his start for such a list:

1. Loving God
   
2. Loving One Another
   
3. Giving of your time and talents
   
4. Being a member of a spiritual community

In response, I suggested:

I guess it rather depends on how you answer the question "what does it mean to love one another?" Biblically love is not some vague emotion or some undefined set of good intentions. It is deliberate actions defending a person's best interests. "But how do I do that," some ask. And God's answer is the law: do not steal, do not kill, do not covet, do not commit adultery... and that last puts sexuality right there as the way we live out number two on your "list of Christ-like behaviors."

Many years ago, the Presbyterian Church (USA) was introducing a new sexuality curriculum, God's gift of sexuality. As part of the roll out, they held training events in each Synod to help educators and ministers understand how this new curriculum worked and what it was all about. As an interested educator, I made it a priority to attend our Synod's event.

Ours was a pretty small group; no more than a dozen. But that was good because it gave us lots of quality discussion and interaction with the design team member who was introducing the curriculum to us. And the trainer was certainly excited about the product they had designed. It was a whole new approach to church-based sexuality education. For the first time, giving students accurate biological information was a goal of the church's educational plan.

And this curriculum was going to free youth from the narrow moralisms that had characterized sex education in the church in previous generations. They would find freedom knowing the God of love did not expect rote obedience to the letter of the law. Rather they could follow the Spirit and do the loving thing in each situation and relationship.

Being rather younger and more impertinent than I am today, I asked what in this curriculum would help the youth recognize what the loving thing was. How would they know what love was?

The presenter was not expecting that question. It never occurred to the design team to write lessons about what love is. Don't we all instinctively know how to love?

But we don't. One of the great tragedies of life is how people can try to do the right thing but still fail. People can want to love, can try to love, but can still end up causing great pain.

But God, who knows the end from the beginning, has told us what love is. That's the point of a passage like Romans 13:10: "Love does not harm its neighbor. So love does everything the law requires."

The Heidelberg Catechism puts it well (especially in the Christian Reformed Church translation) at Question 91:

What do we do that is good? Only that which arises out of true faith, conforms to God's law, and is done for his glory; and not that which is based on what we think is right or on established human tradition.

Put it this way: if the most important thing God has to say to us is "you shall love," then doesn't it make sense that would come with at least some instruction in how to do it? What kind of God would say "The most important thing I want you to do is love, but if you're looking to me for help with how to do that, you're going to be disappointed"?

But he has helped us with the meaning of love. He has given us some instruction in how to love. He has given it in his statutes, in his ordinances, in his law. And that law is not a burden to be escaped. It's a blessed gift to be received with thanks.

You know the bit about "all work and no play…"

You never know what you'll find on line. One odd but intriguing link I found was to a site called the Portrait Illustration Maker. I can't say it looks exactly like me: the beard is seldom that well trimmed, and I don't think I have a shirt exactly that shade of blue... but the presence of the coffee cup is certainly true to life.
The little portrait icon was made by the Abi-Station. The Portait Illustration Maker asks for input about hair and eyes and backgrounds and such. Then it creates a little picture like you see off to the right. And, if I get the coding correctly, in my profile section on the blog. But that's a project for another day...

A decent man, a film-maker's target

Reporter Sharon Cohen begins the story this way:

He was a stern-faced sniper - and a soft-hearted Marine who handed out candy to kids in Iraq. He was a warrior who wrote poetry about life and death. ...

he had dreamed of joining the military ever since he was a little boy who liked to watch "M-A-S-H" on television and dress in fatigues and a camouflage shirt....

"He told me lots of times that he learned what could be accomplished .. if you put your heart and soul in it - and he put his heart and soul in the Marine Corps," says his father... "He was gung-ho from the time he signed his name until the day he died."...

[He] carried a Bible from his grandfather.... He kept it in his left shirt pocket next to his heart. Tucked inside was a photo of his wife and their two sons...

[He] had a full life outside the military. He liked to hunt and camp, take canoe trips and fish with his boys.

He was known as a charmer, a good talker, a champion of the underdog (always defending and befriending kids picked on in school) and though he was trained to fight and kill, he preferred the role of peacemaker.

"He didn't like turmoil," recalls his mother.... "He wanted everybody to be happy, to get along. ... He'd say 'Life's too short to sweat the small stuff.'"...

[A picture of him shows a] tough-minded Marine in helmet and combat gear - doling out candy from a plastic bag two months ago to schoolchildren in Iraq.

"He admired the Iraqi people," his father says. "He said, 'Dad, even though I can't understand a word they're saying, if we were back home ... we'd be buddies.'"

He seems to have been a very decent man. He could easily have grown to become the pillar of any number of smaller towns across the country. Who knows what good he might have accomplished in his life?

Might have, but won't, because Staff Sgt. Raymond Plouhar was killed in action late in June in Iraq. As we say around here, he gave all his tomorrows so that others might live today. He laid down his life, not for friends, but for strangers.

But millions of people will never know that Staff Sgt. Raymond Plouhar. Instead, they will meet a different person with that name. And they will think that person is the real Staff Sgt. Plouhar. After all, the movie they met him in was a "documentary," right?

He was featured in Michael Moore's antiwar documentary, "Fahrenheit 9/11," portrayed as an overzealous Marine recruiter who targeted poor kids....

The segment shows Plouhar and another Marine in a mall parking lot in a depressed suburb of Flint; it suggests the two men were cynically hunting for poor teens to sign up, rather than go to a wealthy suburb where they'd likely be rejected.

Of course, that's not now how Moore recruited Plouhar

Plouhar's father says his son told him he had been misled and believed he was being filmed for a documentary that would appear on the Discovery Channel. (Moore's office didn't return calls or e-mail messages seeking comment.)
"He cried when he found out what it really was," his father says. "He never dreamed that it was going to be something to slam the country, which he dearly loved."

And the pain of Moore's exploitation extended to Plouhar's family and friends

Leigh Plouhar says her husband asked her not to watch the film - and she never has. Nor has Stephen Wandrie, his friend of 20 years, who says Plouhar was hurt by the film, but told him: "You know what? I know what I do is good for this country and every one of those people I'm recruiting - those guys are my brothers."

Michael Moore is angry at those who lie to the people. He is angry at those who think their lies are just fine because they're in service of a higher agenda. He is angry at the way those lies have hurt people. He is using his skill as a filmmaker to make sure those who lie and hurt people feel the pain they cause others.

It's as if he said, You'll not get away with causing that pain; I have a camera and I know how to use it. But I wonder: does he feel any of the pain he has caused others as he pursued his higher agenda?

Neither Michael Moore nor his staff replied to AP reporter Sharon Cohen’s requests for comment; there’s still no comment posted on Moore’s web site about Staff Sgt. Plouhar. There is, however, a note “Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be soldiers.”

Staff Sgt. Plouhar seems to have known the special peace that comes to those who know false accusations will not affect their ultimate vindication. May his family find that comfort as they remember his sacrifice and service.

Kenneth Lay's legacy is a warning

Most of the coverage of Ken Lay's death remembers him as the mastermind of an elaborate corporate fraud. The San Francisco Chronicle's editorial is typical: "Because of Lay's accounting fraud, 5,000 jobs were lost, as well as $1 billion in employee pensions." And they comment, "Regrettably, Lay, who died at 64, will never spend time in prison to pay for what he did."

But Kenneth Lay was a more complex figure than that. In his private life, he was seen as a generous pillar of the community. He remembered he came from humble roots. His father was a shopkeeper who later became a minister. As a boy, his earnings from delivering papers and mowing lawns helped with the family finances. In his personal life, he remembered those lessons. Kevin Crowe in the Columbia Missourian put it, "Lay became known in Houston and beyond as someone willing to share the wealth. Universities, churches, museums and philanthropic associations all benefited from his, and EnronÂ’s, success."

Unfortunately, he was all too typical of the attitudes of this age. His virtues were a private matter. They didn't intrude on his public life. And when it came to running the business that became Enron, he did whatever would advance his company's profitability. And that high-flying success began to change his personal life. "We were living a very expensive lifestyle," Lay said during his trial. "It's the type of lifestyle that's difficult to turn off like a spigot."

The voice echoes on the wind: "he was seduced by the dark side." Perhaps there were people around him who knew "there is still good in him, I can feel it." But the support structures that could have nurtured that good, could have restrained the darkness, failed him. All those associations that benefited from his gifts: what did they give back to him? Who was in a position to give Ken Lay what he really needed?

They say "friends don't let friends drive drunk." Friends don't let friends destroy themselves. Friends don't let friends hurt others. But who was Ken Lay's friend? Who could have nurtured the good in him? They could have protected him... and the 5,000 people who lost their jobs.

Ken Lay's final legacy is a sad warning. It's a warning not to let the pursuit of success, achievement, or lifestyle turn us from the values we know are right. And it's a warning to intervene when we see that happening to others.

It's never just a story: DaVinci Code-inspired thoughts on the influence of stories

Many years ago, the ad for a horror movie advised, when the movie got too intense, just keep repeating “It’s only a movie, it’s only a movie…” Lots of people have similar advice in responding to the horror show that is The DaVinci Code. Just keep repeating “It’s only a novel. It’s just a work of fiction. It doesn’t prove anything.”

Except, of course, it’s never just a story.

Stories shape the way we see reality. They shape our perception of who we are and where we come from. That influence may be helpful or harmful, but it is never nonexistent.

Consider for a moment how many people believe they know something about the plight of children in Victorian London. Do they know that because they’ve studied historical documents of the time? Have they researched the sociology of the 19th century? Or have they read the stories of Charles Dickens?

Or consider how many people believe they know what life was like in the 17th and 18th century puritan New England colonies. It that because they’ve studied the history? Or is it because they’ve read the 19th century stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne?

When people evaluate the role of preachers who lead mass evangelism rallies, do they think of the real figure Billy Graham, or the fictional character Elmer Gantry?

The power of film to shape our perceptions of reality is even more powerful. Consider the influence of Leni Riefenstahl’s films (like Triumph of the Will and Olympia) on perceptions of Germany in the 30s. Or the influence of Sergi Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin on perceptions of the Russian Revolution. Or the influence of DW Griffiths’s Birth of a Nation on perceptions of southern reconstruction in the 19th century.

At one time or another (and for some even to this day), all these films have been censored or restricted or protested. People felt they had to fight to keep these films from shaping public views on these topics. They didn’t say “it’s only a movie.” They said “this movie is dangerous.”

Aboriginal cultures recognised the importance of the tribe storyteller. The storyteller shaped the tribe’s sense of who they were and how they were to live. They gave the storyteller special respect, but also expected the storyteller to hold firmly to the traditions. We should expect the same from our storytellers.

It’s not just a story – in a sense it’s never just a story. Our stories shape our sense of who we are. We need to be sure the stories reflect reality, because it does matter if they don’t.