jesus

Who Could Love A Beast?

/ tgutting / 3 Comments

“For who could ever love a beast?” So begins a favorite fairytale, Beauty and the Beast. Disney transports us into thinking if we are charming, beautiful, strong enough we can tame a beast and make him into a prince. 

But once again, Disney lied to us. The truth is, we pretend to be prince and princess, get married, and wake up to find we’ve married a beast…

And soon we realize… we are a beast.

Selfish, self-centered, with a nasty temper when we don’t get our way.

Someone once said if you want to know how selfish you are, get married. We easily get frustrated when we have to share our friends, our family, our feelings and our finances, our bed and our shed, our space, our attention, our goals, etc., etc., etc.

God uses marriage to teach us and change us. And Jesus used marriage as a metaphor for us to try to understand the depth of His love for us.

The Perfect Groom

In Jesus’ final hours, He continued to exemplify perfect love for His disciples. 

John 13:1 says “…Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.”

The time before Jesus’ excruciating death begins with the Passover meal. Everyone had began to eat when Jesus gets up and starts to wash feet. He didn’t pull rank or victim, saying he should be the last one to have to do it because of his status or because he was having a hard time. He was able to look past himself, see a need, and be the first to fill it.

How? How could He do such a thing with so much going on in His mind? We can see a hint in John 13:3: “Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under His power, and that He had come from God and was returning to God.”

Jesus knew who He was. He didn’t have to have others understand.

A farmer married a town girl and brought her out to his land. When she offered to help with the cattle, he insisted she was too good for that, and he would not have her get her hands dirty in the barn. 

After a few months of marriage, a blizzard was coming and the farmer was frantically trying to secure everything before the storm hit. He asked his bride to help with the cows. ‘Oh no,’ she said, ‘I was your precious bride before—too good to be in the barn—and I haven’t changed just because we’ve been married longer.’

Too often, when it comes time to serve each other, we refuse to humble ourselves because we fear being devalued. ‘Do you know who I am? You can’t treat me like this!’ we cry. 

But Jesus knew who He was in the Lord. He didn’t need validation from the people. So He was able to humble Himself—the God of the Universe washing dirty feet.

Jesus served His disciples. In the race to get ahead in marriage, we should race to serve each other. In a Christian marriage, we should not be saying, ‘Well, I did this-this-this, so it’s your turn to do that!’

Secondly, in Jesus’ last evening with His friends, He supported them. He encouraged and comforted them (John 14:1), He prayed for them (John 17), and He held them to a standard. We too can make or break our spouse by how we speak to them and about them. We need to be intentional about encouraging them. Praying for someone grows love in both the praying person and the receiving one.

In John 18:10-11, Peter steps out of line by cutting off the ear of a soldier. Jesus stopped him, showing love for him by setting boundaries and holding him to it. “I love you too much to let you be less than your best,” said author Tim Hansel’s wife. 

And finally, we know Jesus sacrificed for us, His bride (John 19:18). Jesus’ endless love changed us from beasts to His bride. From those incapable of love to people who can also be the first to serve, support and sacrifice. He made us worthy of being invited to the wedding feast, because of His perfect love.

And when we love each other, we witness to the world what true love does, and the God who freely gives it (John 17:25-26). Our marriages are gifts. Our capacity to love is a gift. And our transformation is a gift. 

Celebrate this gift, Little Sister, and share His love every chance you can get by serving, supporting and sacrificing for others. A mighty circle of witnesses will be praying for you. 

The Danger of Losing the Spirit of Beauty

/ tgutting / 2 Comments

Despite the multiple dangers, I trudge into the Christmas decorating. I’m not talking about burning the house down with an over-dry tree or giving everyone food poisoning with old turkey or even burning family relationships with accidentally bringing up politics. Not even getting one kid more toys than another. Besides all that, you can break things. Not just limbs from hanging lights on the roof. Fragile, tiny things that you love.

I’m placing the final Christmas decor up for the year. Porcelain figures spell out the word ‘rejoice’ with cherubs playing in the letters, holding out stars and doves. Sadly, my innate nature clashes with these fragile figurines every year. They seem to be top heavy, so invariably, one gets knocked over each year and some part breaks. One dove has rings of super glue around its feet, holding it to the ‘I’. Another dove is missing a tail—a permanent maiming due to my inability to be careful enough.

But this year, they came out of the box unscathed from hidden injury in storage where moth and rust destroy. A good sign. And I’ve chosen a new place: the windowsill by my kitchen sink. Flat, accessible, sheltered. It should be a good year for “Rejoice.”

Which is a plus because my attitude has been more begrudging than rejoicing. Only 1 of my 3 adult kids will be home this year. As I decorated the Christmas tree with ornaments that hold memories for our family, I realized I was probably the only one who will really look at them. And I was only doing it to place them on the already shedding evergreen limbs.

Christmas is just not as fun without children enjoying the elements and encouraging the excitement. Still, there would be friends over. And, I resolved, I can pray for others to share the joy with.

But as snowmen ornaments unboxed in a dusty grey like the end of March snow, it was difficult to not question it all. Does plastic garland add to the meaning? Is God glorified in the sacrifice of a live pine tree? When its incense fills my home, is it pleasing to Him? These lights with fizzled bulbs, wrinkled bows, broken balls…is it worth the fight?

I continue. And having placed my happy little cherubs in a setting of boughs and balls and holly berries, I stand back a little happier. I will enjoy looking at them. But maybe, I’ll add a ‘Hark the Herald Angels’ picture behind them. 

I get the wooden frame situated behind the boughs. One letter wobbles, then topples over. Hmm. If the frame falls forward because of, say, a door slamming, they will all go. So I start to shift the frame to make it lean more solidly against the window. 

I push one stick of holly too far. 

Suddenly, several letters fall, and not just flat on the window sill, but end-over-end into the sink and the dishes therein, hitting hazards all the way.

My mouth says a very un-Christmas word. My eyes blur and brim. 

And my heart says ‘why bother?’

I pick up pieces. Here a dove’s wing, here an impossibly dainty hand. There again the dove for the  top of the I. Here an angel broken off at the ankle. Little feet without a body. Chip fragments too small to place. Mass casualty.

What’s the point?

I continue to search for an answer and pieces to lay on the counter. But then, I find it, like the little star: why paint a cardinal red? Why illuminate a fleeting sunset that few will appreciate? Why bedazzle the night sky with stars?

The Source of all beauty is generous—extravagant—ridiculous in His dishing beauty out. He serves it up in heaping amounts like a grandmother spooning mashed potatoes and piling up biscuits. And though my clumsy fingered, fat-crayon efforts are certainly mere scribbles, maybe it can reveal—highlight—emphasize this God-with-us for someone? For me? Surely He enjoys my rejoicing as I join Him in celebrating His presence. 

And what’s a party without decorations?