Jesus Loves Me - (Week 2 Lenten Reflection)

             Jesus loves Me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.

Little ones, to him belong, they are weak, but He is strong. 

    Yes, Jesus Loves me.  Yes, Jesus Loves me.  Yes, Jesus loves me.

    The Bible tells me so. 

What a sweet song. Jesus Loves Me. It takes me back to my earliest memories. I remember going to Church as a family, attending Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. I loved the potluck dinners and the Special Christmas programs. 

I would definitely be considered a cradle Christian – which was a point of confusion in my later years. I was born in Parkersburg, WV, which is also where my Mom was born. Most of my aunts and uncles lived in and around Parkersburg, WV. All of the homes of my relatives included prominent displays of their religious faith. It was not unusual for family gatherings to end with singing songs of faith around the piano or organ. 

In my younger years, I didn't know much about my family's history, but after dabbling in genealogy, I learned that my mother’s family played a central role in settling Salem, WV and its surrounding counties. More specifically, my 7th Great Grandfather, The Reverend William Davis, migrated from Wales, UK, and followed George Keith and William Penn, Quakers, to the colonies. My 7th GG Davis was an early leader of the Seventh Day Baptist Church, and a large number of families of the Church migrated to Salem, WV, building some of the Seventh Day Baptist Churches in the area. 

But I digress. I mention this only to point out that the roots of my faith go back many generations. 

Though the song, Jesus Loves Me, was certainly the first one I remember singing in those early years as part of the Church, I recall still being fairly young when I considered the words, “for the Bible tells me so,” as not making a lot of sense to me. I knew that Jesus loved me long before I’d read about it in the Bible – before I’d learned to read at all.  

Even in my younger years, I’ve pondered on what I believe and why I believe it.  What became clear to me is that God’s love for me became real, not because the Bible told me so, but rather because my family and friends shared with me the love of God through their lives.   I could see God in them.   

I learned far more about the love of God through watching and connecting with the people laboring to build God’s Kingdom, on Earth as it is in Heaven, than through the study of the Bible.   It is in the eyes of others that we can see God.  It is through our labor, hand in hand with others, that we experience God.  It is in our appreciation and stewardship of all creation that we begin to understand the love of God.  

Thinking back, ironically, in realizing that it wasn’t the Bible that introduced, or made real, God’s love, that I started seeking a better understanding of just what that meant. 

The monologue from “Good Will Hunting - ‘Your Move Chief’” expresses the point I’m trying to make: 

“Will: What’s this, a taster’s choice moment between guys? This is really nice. You gotta thing for swans? Is this like a fetish, is something like we need to devote some time to?

             Sean: Thought about what you said to me the other day. About my painting. Stayed up half the              night thinking about it. Something occurred to me. And I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, and I                 haven’t thought about you since. You know what occurred to me? 

Will: No. 

Sean: You’re just a kid. You don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about. 

Will: Why, thank you. 

Sean: It’s alright. You’ve never been out of Boston. 

Will: (Pausing) Nope. 

Sean: So if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the on about every art book ever written. Michelangelo. You know a lot about him. Life’s work. Political aspirations. Him and the Pope. Sexual orientation. The whole works, right?

But I bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You’ve never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seen that. 

If I ask you about women, you’d probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can’t tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. 

You’re a tough kid. If I ask you about war, you’d probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? ‘Once more into the breach, dear friends.’ But you’ve never been near one. You’ve never held your best friend’s head in your lap and watch him gasp his last breath, looking to you for help. 

If I ask you about love, you’d probably quote me a sonnet. But you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone who can level you with her eyes. Feel like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of Hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel. To have that love for her be there forever. Through anything. Through cancer. And you wouldn’t know about sleeping, sitting up in a hospital room for two months, holding her hand because the doctors could see in your eyes that the terms ‘visiting hours’ don’t apply to you. 

You don’t know about real loss. Because that only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself. I doubt you’ve ever dared to love anybody that much. 

I look at you, I don’t see an intelligent, confident man. I see a cocky, scared-sh*tless kid. But you’re a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine. You ripped my f*ckin’ life apart. 

You’re an orphan, right?  Do you think I’d know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are because I read Oliver Twist?  Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don’t give a sh*t about all that. Because you know what?  I can’t learn anything from you that I can’t read in some f*ckin’ book. Unless you want to talk about you. Who you are.  And I’m fascinated.  I’m in.  But you don’t want to do that, do you, sport?  You’re terrified of what you might say.   Your move, chief.” 

In the end, our faith and understanding of God's love go beyond the words written in books, even the Sacred Scripture, or recited in songs.  It is through our own experiences, interactions, and the people we encounter that we can truly embrace the essence of divine love.  Therefore, as Jesus commanded, we should strive to be transformed through our experience of God’s love, and share it freely and sincerely with those around us, and in doing so, finding the true meaning of the words, "Jesus Loves Me, this I know." 

If I were to rewrite this precious song, I would sing:

             Jesus loves me, this I know,

all that’s Holy tells me so.

We’re all God’s children, precious to Him

All are loved, held close within. 

    Yes, Jesus Loves me.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  Yes, Jesus loves me –

    All that’s Holy, tells me so.  

So the Journey continues.   More next week.