The Craziness of Christian Love
Notes on a Prayer by Vikki Randall
When I picked up Preaching the Uncontrolling Love of God, I was drawn to the title of one of its sermons: "To Be Emptied" by Vikki Randall. She lives in Monrovia CA, and has 28 years of pastoral experience, serving large and small churches. She is one of four editors of this excellent collection of sermons and prayers.
Her sermon deals with the idea that God empties the divine life of divinity in Jesus, thereby inviting us to imagine divinity itself in a new and different way. She writes:
Being God is not about being the biggest dog on the block, ruling over all by virtue of strength and might. Rather, Jesus shows us that the defining, essential characteristic characteristic of God is radical, sacrificial, incarnational love.
I have to admit that, when I read her words above, I thought of a former president who does indeed want to be the biggest dog on the block. He measures strength in terms of the power to dominate and control. But of course so many others also think of power in terms of domination and control, not sacrificial love. In the words of the philosopher Whitehead, we render unto God that which belongs to Caesar. Vikki Randall encourages us to render unto God that which belongs to Jesus.
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Her essay ends with a prayer:
Come, Lord Jesus come. Come into our hearts today. Help us see you ever before us—in the face of every person we meet, created in your image. Help us draw near to you and set aside our desire for control or power over and embrace instead your calling to power under. Help us live that out in a beautiful and broken world. Amen.
I am struck by the tenderness of this prayer. In an era where the pursuit of power often overshadows the principles of compassion and community, her prayer offers a radical counter-narrative: that of seeing the face of Jesus in every person we meet. It acts as an antidote to the divisiveness and strife that mark our contemporary world.
Not everyone will welcome this medicine. Her emphasis on lovingkindness over power and control will seem crazy to those among us who divide the world into us and them; who understand the purpose of life as climbing a ladder of upward mobility, leaving others behind; and who think some people are not worth our love. But what is crazy to the world is sacred to the Christian.
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Here's an idea: Perhaps it can help if Christians broadly proclaim that they - we - are lunatics, in that we embrace rather than hide from the craziness of tender-hearted love. In fact, historical Christianity offers us three forms of, as it were, constructive lunacy:
I could easily add a fourth. It is the idea, important to Vikki Randall and many others in the open and relational movement, that the supreme power of the universe, God, shares these approaches to life. This is to think that God is not a king on a throne but a humble servant of life with special care for the vulnerable. God doesn't want to be the biggest dog on the block. This understanding of God is espoused by all sixty-seven contributors to Preaching the Uncontrolling Love of God. They, too, are crazy in the best of senses. They think God is Love.
*
I shared my idea of Christian lunacy with a friend, and he didn't realize that I was being ironic or tongue-in-cheek. So let me be clear about what I mean by lunacy. The three activities named above are naive and foolish from the point of view of those in American society who believe that we should hate our enemies, prioritize control over kindness, and become rich and powerful even as others suffer, or at least curry favor with the rich and powerful. So is the fourth idea, that God is Love.
Indeed, not only are such ideas naive and foolish; they are also weak. At least that's how a former president sees things. For him weakness is something to be avoided at all costs. He parades himself as the candidate of strength not weakness, seeing weak people as "losers." At a rally he promised, if elected, to "root out the Communists, Marxists, fascists, and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country." He specifically targeted the "radical left lunatics" in his crusade to "make America great again."
I am sorry to speak ill of him here. I don't hate this man. But I do feel sorry for him. He exalts the power of control, the thrill of victory, and the subjugation of perceived adversaries, priding himself on winning over "losers." I'm pretty sure that I would be a loser from his perspective and also a lunatic. I do not identify as communist, Marxist, fascist, and I am not radically left. But I do reject the kind of strength this ex-president valorizes. I am inspired by the strength of Jesus, not the strength of someone who wants to be a big dog on the block.
*
In all of this, I am influenced by Jesus. His way of living, his teachings, and his trust in a God of noncontrolling, inclusive love have shaped my perspective. Throughout his ministry, Jesus repeatedly sided with those marginalized by society, including prostitutes and lepers, individuals branded as impure and unworthy. As a middle-class Christian, my circumstances differ from theirs, yet Jesus' message compels me to transcend the societal purity codes that segregate individuals into categories of "pure" and "impure." Jesus took special care, and had a special love for, the "vermin."
I want to be part of what could be called a society of lunatics, otherwise known as "the Christian church" at its best. This is a community that unconditionally embraces all people, staunchly refusing to dehumanize anyone as vermin. This commitment to radical inclusivity is what I believe Jesus championed: a vision of a community where everyone has a place at the table, where no one is excluded, and where love overrides societal divisions.
*
Come, Lord Jesus. Come into our hearts today.
Her sermon deals with the idea that God empties the divine life of divinity in Jesus, thereby inviting us to imagine divinity itself in a new and different way. She writes:
Being God is not about being the biggest dog on the block, ruling over all by virtue of strength and might. Rather, Jesus shows us that the defining, essential characteristic characteristic of God is radical, sacrificial, incarnational love.
I have to admit that, when I read her words above, I thought of a former president who does indeed want to be the biggest dog on the block. He measures strength in terms of the power to dominate and control. But of course so many others also think of power in terms of domination and control, not sacrificial love. In the words of the philosopher Whitehead, we render unto God that which belongs to Caesar. Vikki Randall encourages us to render unto God that which belongs to Jesus.
*
Her essay ends with a prayer:
Come, Lord Jesus come. Come into our hearts today. Help us see you ever before us—in the face of every person we meet, created in your image. Help us draw near to you and set aside our desire for control or power over and embrace instead your calling to power under. Help us live that out in a beautiful and broken world. Amen.
I am struck by the tenderness of this prayer. In an era where the pursuit of power often overshadows the principles of compassion and community, her prayer offers a radical counter-narrative: that of seeing the face of Jesus in every person we meet. It acts as an antidote to the divisiveness and strife that mark our contemporary world.
Not everyone will welcome this medicine. Her emphasis on lovingkindness over power and control will seem crazy to those among us who divide the world into us and them; who understand the purpose of life as climbing a ladder of upward mobility, leaving others behind; and who think some people are not worth our love. But what is crazy to the world is sacred to the Christian.
*
Here's an idea: Perhaps it can help if Christians broadly proclaim that they - we - are lunatics, in that we embrace rather than hide from the craziness of tender-hearted love. In fact, historical Christianity offers us three forms of, as it were, constructive lunacy:
- that we should our enemies, partnering with them whenever possible, and never hating them as persons, even as we may despise what they do.
- that we should recognize that lovingkindness is more powerful than dominating power,
- that we should side with the poor and powerless rather than currying favor from the privileged and powerful.
I could easily add a fourth. It is the idea, important to Vikki Randall and many others in the open and relational movement, that the supreme power of the universe, God, shares these approaches to life. This is to think that God is not a king on a throne but a humble servant of life with special care for the vulnerable. God doesn't want to be the biggest dog on the block. This understanding of God is espoused by all sixty-seven contributors to Preaching the Uncontrolling Love of God. They, too, are crazy in the best of senses. They think God is Love.
*
I shared my idea of Christian lunacy with a friend, and he didn't realize that I was being ironic or tongue-in-cheek. So let me be clear about what I mean by lunacy. The three activities named above are naive and foolish from the point of view of those in American society who believe that we should hate our enemies, prioritize control over kindness, and become rich and powerful even as others suffer, or at least curry favor with the rich and powerful. So is the fourth idea, that God is Love.
Indeed, not only are such ideas naive and foolish; they are also weak. At least that's how a former president sees things. For him weakness is something to be avoided at all costs. He parades himself as the candidate of strength not weakness, seeing weak people as "losers." At a rally he promised, if elected, to "root out the Communists, Marxists, fascists, and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country." He specifically targeted the "radical left lunatics" in his crusade to "make America great again."
I am sorry to speak ill of him here. I don't hate this man. But I do feel sorry for him. He exalts the power of control, the thrill of victory, and the subjugation of perceived adversaries, priding himself on winning over "losers." I'm pretty sure that I would be a loser from his perspective and also a lunatic. I do not identify as communist, Marxist, fascist, and I am not radically left. But I do reject the kind of strength this ex-president valorizes. I am inspired by the strength of Jesus, not the strength of someone who wants to be a big dog on the block.
*
In all of this, I am influenced by Jesus. His way of living, his teachings, and his trust in a God of noncontrolling, inclusive love have shaped my perspective. Throughout his ministry, Jesus repeatedly sided with those marginalized by society, including prostitutes and lepers, individuals branded as impure and unworthy. As a middle-class Christian, my circumstances differ from theirs, yet Jesus' message compels me to transcend the societal purity codes that segregate individuals into categories of "pure" and "impure." Jesus took special care, and had a special love for, the "vermin."
I want to be part of what could be called a society of lunatics, otherwise known as "the Christian church" at its best. This is a community that unconditionally embraces all people, staunchly refusing to dehumanize anyone as vermin. This commitment to radical inclusivity is what I believe Jesus championed: a vision of a community where everyone has a place at the table, where no one is excluded, and where love overrides societal divisions.
*
Come, Lord Jesus. Come into our hearts today.