Verse of the Week...

Have you ever wondered if you’re getting it right? Better yet, are you courageous enough to honestly consider whether you’re chasing after that which lasts, or instead the all-too-charming-yet-vain pursuits that quickly fade from significance over the course of this momentary life? I have. I do. And especially when death knocks on the door of someone ‘just down the street,’ so to speak.

My 73-year-old uncle Paul, more endearingly known as ‘Pablo’ to most, passed away last week after a noble fight against pancreatic cancer. And unlike many who’ve died far younger, Pablo lived a full, rich life. No, he wasn’t an ultra savvy investor or wealthy tycoon, but more the unassuming type, with a knack for befriending literally anyone. His family was, and still is, an interconnected web of love and support, one full of shared joys. My uncle was just one of those guys who left his mark on everyone he encountered; his kindness, his compassion (and his hearty chuckle) gave a lift to any room he entered.

And as it seems to often go, his death, and my mourning, got me to thinking. Will I be remembered some day how my uncle is now? Will people grieve my passing as a true loss? More, Will my life be characterized by genuine, unconditional love, as was my dearest uncle’s?

Many questions, I know.  But they point straight to love, and God’s (Peter’s) view of it:

‘Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.’  (1 Peter 4:8)

Above all… ‘Above all, love each other deeply.’ In other words, if you do anything, make certain you do this. If you don’t do anything else, do this. For in doing so, a multitude of sins are covered. I don’t know how that sounds to you, but to me it’s a breath of fresh air, an anthem of hope. Hope for me. Hope for a wretch. And hope for a simplified (focused) existence. See, there’s something about this exhortation that rings favorable, something that sounds really…well, realistic. Like this is something God-honoring that I can actually DO! For sure I’ve made monumental mistakes throughout my life, hurting God, myself and others, but in the face of them all, I just may be able to love others deeply and, somehow, in some way, amend for much of my waywardness.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. I initially thought the same thing. No, I don’t suppose I can, by my works (even my works of love), ultimately save myself from my sins. That would be lunacy…leading to deserved condemnation. But I know we can work out our [God wrought, Jesus bought] salvation with fear and trembling (and love), as did David, the man after God’s own heart, and my Uncle Paul. I do know that, even amidst a life of continual mistakes, littered with letdowns, we can overcome its heartache by living a life of love.

And you know what? If we do, people will take note—more than 700 broken-hearted friends and family members attended my uncle’s funeral. But, as the meaningless cliché goes, ‘that is what it is.’ Far more importantly, God will notice. He’ll notice how over and above obeying any of His other commands, you and I kept the one that fulfilled them all, the one most germane to His heart, the one expressly ratified to bring Him praise:

‘Love the LORD your God with all your heart, your soul, your mind and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself.’ (Matthew 22:37-39)

There is both hope and beauty in the simplicity of love. Will we, like Uncle Pablo, live in such a way that we're remembered for it?