On this Good Friday, when we remember God’s uncompromising love for us all, I offer these words from The Ballad of the Sad Café by Carson McCullers:
The most outlandish people can be the stimulus for love…the beloved may be treacherous, greasy-headed, and given to evil habits. Yes, and the lover may see this as clearly as anyone else—but that does not affect the evolution of his love one whit. A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful…Therefore, the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself.
It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can only cause him pain.
McCuller’s provocative vision of love describes human love, not Divine. Yet some of the elements of love as described here do reflect aspects of the love God has for each of us. We, God’s beloved, can be of any description. And we, too, might find this intolerable. Because it turns the universe upside down. God’s love pours out from grace. We don’t earn it. We don’t control it. We receive it. Like the lover McCullers describes, God craves any possible relation with us. God will meet us wherever we are. In Christ, God will suffer pain and do so willingly. For us.
Unlike McCuller’s description, this relationship does not cause “only” pain. For we know—and today, especially, we acknowledge—that although God in Christ chose to suffer pain out of love for us, that pain is not all there is to the story. We know what happens after Christ transforms suffering. We know that the cross is a portal into larger life.
Until that celebration, may we not look away from the depth and quality of God’s love. May we not find it intolerable, but allow ourselves to be loved—wildly, extravagantly—instead.
