I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved is mine

– Song of Solomon 6:3

 

You know what to expect from valentine stories, don’t you? Something about a couple and their love for each other. Add in some obstacles to overcome, candles, flowers, chocolate, and a wedding in the end. But that’s not what this is. This one’s a love story starring God.

(Since so many Christmas movies these days are about couples falling in love, I figure it’d be only fair to highjack valentine season for more of a God focus.)

This tale may be devoid of flowers and candlelight, but do remember the Hero overcame the greatest of obstacles to rescue His love and make her His own.

With that settled, let’s start with the undeniable romance of the Ten Commandments.

 

What? You don’t see the romance?

 

Consider the words Jesus used to answer the question, What is the greatest commandment? His response was basically love and more love.

Those weren’t His exact words, but isn’t it a bit startling to see that He stitched the word Commandment to the word Love.

Maybe not such a surprise to the crowd of Jews listening in as to your average, modern day American. After all, a good Jew was probably quite familiar with the words of the Shema:

Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one. And as for you, you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.

For this born-in-the-20th-century-American-girl, the word commandment typically turns my thoughts to The Ten Commandments—a God-prescribed list of dos and don’ts.

Over time, though, and with the help of some friends, I’ve come to see The Ten Commandments in a different way. As more of a love note than a table of rules.

Ann Voskamp uses this lens beautifully in Day 10 of her book, The Greatest Gift. There she illustrates how the giving of The Ten Commandments was full of wedding symbology. She includes these three (click on the links for a fun–and brief–explanation of the terms):

• The mikveh, a preparatory purification, evident in God’s instruction to Moses when He said, “Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow and let them wash their garments.”
• The canopy of cloud that covered Mount Sinai can be viewed as a sort of chuppah.
• The commandments themselves, she views as a form of ketubah. A love contract.

When I picture them in this way, as part of a wedding ceremony, I can see God’s commands aren’t simply rules, but more akin to vows of love. Take the third commandment for instance, the one about not taking the name of the Lord in vain. In the context of a wedding, a bride takes her husband’s name as her own. To take her husband’s name in vain would include more than merely saying it in a disrespectful way but anything she does that is unworthy of being Mrs. Somebody. Acting as if she is not married to him. As if she does not belong to him at all. Taking her husband’s name in vain is not a thing we would expect a loving bride to ever want to do.

 

A Matter of the Heart

 

I again saw the commandments-and-love connection in a book by Timothy S Lane and Paul David Tripp. Coincidentally, perhaps (or perhaps, not?), these authors address The Ten Commandments in chapter 10. The subtitle of this section? “The Law and the Heart.” Here they write that the Commandments emphasize the centrality of the heart.

Jesus answered, “The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.’”

See? Love and more love.

Since this was the first part of Christ’s answer, it’s a good idea to ponder it deeply and continuously. Christ’s bride is to love Him with everything she is, committing herself fully to Him, taking on His name as her own and being changed because of it. Then He went on to say more.

 

Love Your Neighbor as Yourself

 

The second most important commandment is also well-known amongst Christians and—I would venture to guess—people with any knowledge of the Bible at all. But figuring out how to live it out isn’t as simple as it would seem. In my closest human relationships, I fear I sometimes give a bigger piece of my heart or mind or strength to my neighbor than I do to God, thereby loving my neighbor in the way I’m meant to love God.  At other times, though I believe myself to be loving God rightly, I’m quite content to treat certain neighbors as unworthy of my attention or kindness.

And what about periods of self-hate or low self-esteem? How can it be right for anyone to love her neighbor as she loves herself at those times?

To solve that one, the world (and some preachers) would tell us a person must first love herself before she can properly love her neighbor. Which seems sort of right, but I can’t pinpoint scriptural examples that demonstrate this is so. Can you?

I’ve always assumed to love my neighbor as myself means I should treat my neighbor with the same loving good will I have toward myself, but lately, I’ve come to consider one more possible layer of interpretation. This isn’t based on scholarly study of the original language, but on my habit of digging into the meaning of words in my own native (AKA only) language. And according to my own culture.

I’ve done that with this passage because I’ve noticed a different sort of problem in the way I love my neighbor. In my desire to love my fellow humans well, I’ve taken it upon myself to always be available, always knowing exactly what he or she needs, and always able to supply whatever that may be.

Do you see an “omni” pattern here in my alwayses? It’s as if I believe I ought to be loving my neighbor with omnipresence, omniscience, and omnipotence.

Of course, I fail. Because those attributes aren’t mine. The sad truth is I’ve been trying to love my neighbor not as I’m designed to love but as only God can. As if I should (and could) be God to them through my love.

It’s like I know enough that I’m in the right love story, only I’ve gotten things out of order. I’ve miscast myself in a playbill that would read something like this:

 

Love Story I and II (or maybe II and then I?)

 

God……… played by God (with assistance from Jody)

Jody……… played by???? (Not available, she’s too busy trying to play God)

Jody’s projects……… unwittingly played by neighbors

(No wonder I’ve been wearing myself out and missing my cues!)

 

These days, I’m looking at a different playbill. One with Parts solidly in the proper order and the characters properly cast.

 

Loving God – Part 1

 

God……… played by God

Bride……… played by Christ’s church (including Jody playing her part with all her heart, soul, mind, and strength)

 

Loving God – Part II

 

God……… played by God

Bride……… played by Christ’s church (including you playing yourself and Jody playing herself)

Neighbors……… played by everyone else

 

And, like every good love story, whatever heartache and difficulty we find along the way, we can count on things wrapping up with a big, beautiful wedding celebration.

 

Revelations 

 

Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out,

“Hallelujah! For the Lord our God

The Almighty reigns.

Let us rejoice and exult

And give Him the glory,

For the marriage of the Lamb has come,

And His bride has made herself ready.”

(Chapter nineteen, verses six and seven)

 

Now, don’t you think that’s a love story worth celebrating the whole year through?