Love and Affection, Tears and a Barefoot Woman

Straight AheadIt was over 25 years ago. We heard a knock on our door. It was about 2:00 in the morning. It almost seemed like a dream. We didn't get up to answer. Later in the week, however, we heard about a young woman who had been seen running down our street, barefoot, sobbing. She told someone in the neighborhood that she had been raped. My heart went out to her. There's no way of knowing if she was the one who knocked at our door, but I wished we had opened it. We have almost lost the capacity to love in our society. We are afraid of showing affection because someone might file a lawsuit. We're afraid to speak of love because people often attach only a sexual meaning to love. It's hard to take a risk for the sake of love. We might be called gay or weird. What is love, anyway? Christians talk a lot about love, but they don't really know much about what it is. We know something about love within the family. Yet, even in that context, Christians seem to do only slightly better than the rest of society. Love means that the happiness and welfare of the person you love is more important to you than your own. It means that you care enough to be willing to be vulnerable, and to let the other person be vulnerable. It means that no matter what comes to light about you or the person you love, the love will remain. Love doesn't condone wrong, but it is ready and willing to believe the best until all other possibilities are exhausted. Love doesn't mean that we come to compromises that bury our principles, just for the sake of getting along with other people. It means rather that we love one another in spite, or even because of, our differences. We respect those who stand for what they believe, and are able to love them in the process. And sometimes, love means showing affection. Some people do not want to receive love in this way, except from a very select group. Others do not respond to affection, and certainly there are those times when genuine affection is not appropriate. Yet, in so many surveys and studies that have been done in recent years, the importance of human touch and contact seems more and more evident in our impersonal society where relationships are often so superficial. I think of the widow who was sitting with a group of us at lunch in the seminary campus center years ago who suddenly burst into tears and said, "The thing I miss most is physical affection." We hadn't been talking about spouses or affection; and at the time, I didn't even particularly liked the woman. At that moment, however, I wanted very much to go to her side of the table, and show her the love and affection that would at least indicate that someone cared and took her emotions seriously. As a pastor, I've been with people who burst into tears because of shame, grief, a feeling of being overwhelmed or ostricized. I have sat beside people as they weep because they feel inferior, because they can't cope with a disability, a sense of loneliness, or the sting of rejection. I've had the privilege of taking these people in my arms and showing them affection. Most of these have been women. It's more difficult for men to show or acknowledge their emotions. Yet, affection of this kind is not sexual. It is truly spiritual. It is a response to loneliness, depression, fear, hopelessness, and a host of other emotions. So many people in our society were never nurtured. Their needs for affection were dismissed, ignored. The home and family were not sources of comfort and safety, but of strife and insecurity. Stable relationships were never allowed to grow. For so many today, a hug, an embrace, a committed friend who will understand their tears and their struggles can mean so very much. I am convinced that part of the appeal of the charismatic movement is the willingness to share intimate moments in a context of Christian love and acceptance. For so many of the rest of us within the church, Christianity has become so cold that the love is almost buried beneath the respectability. Certainly, we acknowledge the need for boundaries and the importance of sensitivity. But it was Jesus, after all, who encouraged us to weep with those who weep. Until we regain our capacity to do that, the love we talk about so much will seem empty. When we do our good deeds of mercy and compassion, we must do them not merely as performing a duty to one less fortunate, but truly as though we are showing the love of Christ to one for whom Christ died. From a worldly standpoint, I am puzzled as to why God would call a blind man into the ministry. Could it be at least in part because I know what it means to have those feelings of rejection and inferiority, the emotional emptiness that comes with physical limitation? I have always had a loving family--loving parents, a loving wife, an awareness of a loving God. Some only know the God who judges, who punishes. Yet, I also know what it means to hurt, to cry, to be dismissed. I think of these things often--of love, affection, tears, and that barefoot woman, that tearful widow, that lady who was ashamed of her past mistakes or overwhelmed by life and grief. I wonder how many millions need to know that somebody, that God, loves them. I cannot take them all into my arms--all the tsunami victims, all the broken women and shattered men; but I can reach some of them--perhaps even through these written words. By God's grace, this will touch someone. God's love is available. If this article has encouraged you, I hope you will leave a comment or perhaps send me an email. Let us celebrate and weep together.