The case for not loving people

There is a powerful and convincing case for not loving people.  I know what the Bible says and I will get to that in a moment.  But for now let me say it again, there is a convincing case for not loving people.

There is always a reason to withhold love.

To make my point we have to go back in time a few centuries.  Picture this scene.  The most stunning woman you could possibly imagine, magnificent in beauty beyond words, stands nude under a tree, behind her and also nude, the very picture of masculine perfection.  Just a few inches over her head hangs a fruit the likes of which you have never seen.  Hanging to the side of the tree, a few feet in front of her, a serpent.  He whispers seductively to the young beauty, “You will be like God.”

Being God-like is a pretty impressive offer; there is a powerful and convincing case to take action.  To be capable of knowing good and evil could be pretty heady stuff.  The story she is told is that she will have a knowledge of evil that is not just abstract but she will know it viscerally.  To be like God, to be the one who is the end all be all.  She will be able to say of her own will, “I decree thus.”  We often condemn Eve for her choice.  We disparage Adam for his misguided loyalty, casting his lost with Eve rather than against the serpent.  But can we be sure that we would do differently?  I doubt any of us would.

When we with hold love we are believing the lie Eve believed

As evidence I submit that when we choose not to love we are succumbing to the same sort of temptation that beguiled Eve.  We are accepting the invitation to know who is good and, therefore, deserving of our love, and who is evil and from whom withholding love is a right judgment.  The invitation may not be to a tangible piece of fruit, but it is just as real.  The voice may not whisper in our ear, but it speaks clearly to our heart, our wounded pride, our ego, our craving to always be adored.  There is a part of us that hears clearly that call. 

We are never more unlike God than when we choose to withhold love.  We are never more like God than when we love, especially those who are most unloving towards us.  As I write I try to imagine a problem in the church, the world, the culture, families, or relationships that would not be made better and possibly finally cured with a gracious outpouring of love.  I can’t think of much.  Even the trauma of terminal illness is made easier to bear in the presence of love.

I hear a voice that tells me to hate people I can identify as undeserving of my love.  That voice promises a sweet experience.  For Eve the taste of the fruit may have been, for a moment, sweet.  But in the next moment there was the realization of death.  We have chewed the fruit of hate till it is bitter and still we don’t realize we are poisoning ourselves. 

There is a powerful argument to not love people.  It is the same kind of argument that convinced Eve to eat the forbidden fruit.  It is the argument that tells me I can