May 24th, 2019: John
15:12-17.
“Love one another,” Jesus says, “as I
have loved you.” Is that realistic? Can we love on command? Certainly not, if
the kind of love Jesus is talking about is a matter of our feelings only. Jesus
is talking about an attitude. Let me give you an example: a story sent to me by
a man who is today a successful architect.
“Thirty years ago, I was driving a cab
for a living. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a
single light in a ground floor window. “So I walked to the door and knocked.
‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. After a long pause, the door
opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. The apartment looked as if
no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the
counters.
"‘Would you carry my bag out to
the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to
the cab,
then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward
the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. “‘It's nothing’, I told her. ‘I
just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated’.
"‘Oh, you're such a good boy’,
she said.
“When we got in the cab, she gave me an
address, then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’
"‘It's not the shortest way,’ I
answered quickly.
"‘Oh, I don't mind,’ she said.
‘I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice’.
"‘I
don't have any family left,’ she continued. ‘The doctor says I don't have very
long.’ I
quietly reached over and shut off the meter. ‘What route would you like me to
take?’ I asked.
“For the next two hours, we drove
through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an
elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband
had lived as newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse
that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes
she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit
staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
We drove in silence to the address she
had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home. Two
orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and
intent. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman
was already seated in a wheelchair.
"‘How much do I owe you?’ she
asked, reaching into her purse.
"‘Nothing,’ I said.
"‘You have to make a living,’ she
answered.
"‘There are other passengers,’ I
responded. Almost without thinking, I bent
and gave
her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
"‘You gave an old woman a little
moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
“I squeezed her hand, then walked into
the dim morning light. Behind me, a
door shut.
It was the sound of the closing of a life.
“On a quick review, I don't think that
I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that
our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us
unaware — beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.”
The man who sent me that story offers
this final comment. “People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you
said. But they will always remember how
you made them feel.”
The One who pours his love into our
hearts gives us this greatest of all gifts under one strict condition: that
what we have freely received, we freely share with others. Or, to put it
another way: You can’t keep Jesus’ love unless you give it away.
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