Comprehending the Love of Christ

For this reason I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height — to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen. (Ephesians 3:14–21)

Paul prays that we would grasp the love of Christ. His request implies that God’s love is not easy to comprehend. We need help to understand it. We might recoil at such an idea. Isn’t God’s love obvious? Look at His blessings! Look at His miracles! It would be hard to say Jesus didn’t love the blind people He healed or the lepers He cleansed. But what about those He passed by? Did He love them less? What of the times when our prayers go unanswered and our suffering persists? In such times, does God’s love wane?

If we measure God’s love through finite things, it will always be mysterious. Doubt will become our companion when the circumstances of our lives seem the opposite of love. It is only when we turn to the infinite that we comprehend the depths of the love of Christ. That which is infinite must be revealed. The finite cannot grasp it. This is what Paul was praying for. He was not asking God to give the Christians  at Ephesus better lives. He was asking God to unveil the divine. Only then would God’s people be full. Fullness does not come through getting what we want, but through revelation.

If you have ever doubted God’s love or have felt that somehow you were left out, this article is for you. I pray the Lord will pull back the veil and let us behold that which the eyes cannot discern. When He does, our doubt becomes astonishment, and our illusion of emptiness fades away.

The flesh cannot comprehend the love of Christ. In John chapter six, Jesus met a group of people who illustrate this reality. The encounter took place over two days. On the first day, Jesus gave the people a finite blessing. 5,000 people came to hear Jesus preach, and everyone except one young child forgot to pack a lunch. Jesus, seeing the people were hungry, took the lad’s five loaves of bread and two fish, multiplied them, and fed the multitude with plenty to spare. The crowd went wild. They liked this miracle so much they wanted to make Jesus their king.

Jesus’s first day miracle was reminiscent of the Old Covenant. The blessings of the Old Covenant were finite. God spelled them out in the books of the Law (Deuteronomy 28). If they obeyed God’s commandments, they would never be hungry. Their baskets would always be full. God would prosper them and give them a safe place to dwell. No gentile nation would rule over them. However, if they disobeyed, they would suffer hunger and lacking. The gentiles would dominate them, and if things got bad enough, they would lose the land.

The Old Covenant was a trap for the ego. Though the Law was good, because of the ego’s nature, it strengthened the flesh. The ego relates to God through self rather than Christ. “Who am I?” and “What’s in it for me?” are big issues for the flesh. The ego believes who it is defines who God is. If it is good, God will bless. If it is bad, God will curse. If it behaves, God will come near. If it falls short, God will withdraw. It assumes it can get close to God, but it also imagines it can make God go away.

The ego sees God’s blessings as finite. It loves things that the eye can see. It reckons God uses material things and good times to motivate us to obey. He uses threats to keep us in line. Good times mean God is with us, and bad times mean He has turned against us. The flesh will obey the commandments, but it has “What’s in it for me?” in mind.

We can imagine how the ego relates to God and defines His love. To the flesh God’s love is earned. Those who live in self rather than Christ conclude who we are, what we do, and what we believe defines who God is and what He does. Therefore, He loves certain people and despises others. This gives the ego the right to hate those whom it assumes God hates.

 When the flesh cannot recognize God’s blessing, it doubts His love. It wonders how a “loving God” could allow suffering. This is the mind of the flesh. Its paradigm makes God’s ways appear foolish or incomprehensible.

The day after Jesus fed the multitudes, the people wanted more. The ego will follow miracles, but it can never truly follow God. They asked Jesus what works they must do to make God work. Again, this is the nature of the flesh. What can I do to make God do what I want Him to do? Jesus refused to indulge the flesh. Instead, He offered them the New Covenant blessing, the bread of life.

The first day, His gift was a human blessing. The second day's blessing was divine. His gift was Himself. He would give them fullness apart from having, peace apart from good and bad circumstances, and a love that transcends what the eye can see. What He offered them was infinite.

The infinite is always so. We don’t need to gain it. It is ours. We don’t need to make is so. It is. It only needs to be revealed. This revelation unfolds through the death of self-definition and self-gratification, but losing these things is an aspect of God’s love the ego can never comprehend.

Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? So am I. Are they ministers of Christ?—I speak as a fool—I am more: in labors more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequently, in deaths often. From the Jews five times I received forty stripes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods; once I was stoned; three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I have been in the deep; in journeys often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils of my own countrymen, in perils of the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; in weariness and toil, in sleeplessness often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness — besides the other things, what comes upon me daily: my deep concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I do not burn with indignation?

If I must boast, I will boast in the things which concern my infirmity. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is blessed forever, knows that I am not lying. In Damascus the governor, under Aretas the king, was guarding the city of the Damascenes with a garrison, desiring to arrest me; but I was let down in a basket through a window in the wall and escaped from his hands. (2 Corinthians 11:22–33)

Would you say God loved Paul? After reading this, we might wonder. If we look through the lens of the Old Covenant blessings and curses, we might suppose God didn’t like Paul at all. We could put him in the cursed category. Yet, in defense of his apostleship, Paul lists all the bad things that happened to him. Shouldn’t Paul have boasted in all the miracles God used him to accomplish or how many people he won to the Lord? Wouldn’t those things convince the Corinthians of his special place in God’s heart? How did Paul’s infirmities become such a great boast?

In chapter twelve, we can deduce the apostle didn’t always value the bad things in his life. Remember, he was coming out of the Old Covenant where God’s love equals good things, not bad things, so he asked God to let up on his suffering. Three times he asked the Lord for an easier life, but God refused. What kind of loving God would do that?

Instead of an easier life, the Lord gave Paul a revelation. The Lord unveiled the love of Christ in a place the apostle never expected.  

Concerning this thing, I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:8–10)

The flesh cannot comprehend that loss is gain, having nothing can lead to having all, and dying leads to life. The Lord strips us bare of the things that strengthen the ego that we might know His strength. The ego looks at God through the lens of self, and it imagines God loves by fulfilling its desires. Thus, when God shows up through loss, the ego does not recognize Him. It might even call Him the Devil!

Paul came to glory in the things the ego detests. To the flesh there is no glory in weakness, but the apostle realized where there is no finite glory, God reveals infinite glory. Weakness is the perfect place to exalt God. It must have stunned Paul to meet God’s love in suffering. The ego does not expect it there. Yet, if God’s love is only in the good, it is not infinite. It is not always so.

This extraordinary change in paradigm allowed Paul to perceive the depths of God’s love. He saw not just its finite measure, but its infinite measure. The apostle grasped the love that transcends good and bad circumstances, and that vision allowed Him to rejoice in the love of God in the worst of times (Romans 8:31-39). He beheld the glory of God in the places the ego thinks it is absent. This is an astonishing revelation, one that left Paul full amid his emptiness.

So, if you are left out of all the ego boasts in or measures itself by, God has not rejected you. He has chosen you to behold what the ego cannot comprehend. He has invited you to the second day, the place few tread. Those who can see God coming to them in the storm know peace in the storm. Those who only see the storm cannot know rest.

Love = Presence

I had an absent father in my childhood. My dad suffered from alcoholism. He was gone a lot, and when he was home, we didn’t want him there (1). His absence created a hole in my life and left me with a great need for approval. Fear of rejection become my constant companion.

I first experienced God’s presence when I was twelve years old. In that moment, I was complete. This was the love I yearned for. After that I became a God chaser. People seek the Lord for various reasons, but with me it was life and death.

When I got older, I went into ministry. I look back and I wonder about my motive. I was seeking God’s approval, and to me His approval meant His presence. Ideally, a person should go into God’s service knowing they have God’s approval, not to gain it. My daughter is a counselor. She told me many go into her profession hoping to heal themselves. I expect many enter ministry for the same reason. They do so to gain God’s approval. Others seek the approval of man. Both are a search for worth, and both are pure ego.  

I always thought someday I would catch God. Perhaps I would pray enough to bring heaven down, or maybe I would understand the Bible well enough, or perhaps I would do enough good deeds to fill my life with His presence. I wanted God to love me, and my concept was presence equals love.

I believe my efforts to get close to god were like Paul asking God to take away his problems. He didn’t need an easier life, and I didn’t need to try harder to catch God. In fact, the Lord wouldn’t let me catch Him. It would not be a loving thing to do. I did not need to gain God’s presence but to comprehend it. I needed the same thing Paul did, a revelation, an unveiling of what is always so.

From my weakness, not my strength, I saw the love of Christ. In failing to grasp God, I saw He grasped me, and His grasp is unescapable. So, I glory in my inability to pray enough, study enough, or do enough to have God. For my failure was the place of my revelation: Christ is all in all. I met God in the same place Paul did, in my weakness, and that encounter changed everything.

I sometimes tell people our relationship with God must fail. People think I am nuts when I say this. Never! Yet, it is part of our journey. We must reach the end of the finite. This is always a good thing… and yes, it is love. It is a hard road to the end of self, but every inch is paved by God’s love.

We are participants in a relationship that is infinite. We cannot achieve it or diminish it. We merely need to see it. Perhaps that is why Paul, when he prayed for the church at Ephesus, did not pray for his people to do a better job at loving God. He prayed they would grasp how much God loved them. The apostle petitioned the Lord to open their eyes to the infinite. He did not pray that they would do a better job becoming, but that they would do a better job being.

Paul’s was a prayer for revival at Ephesus, only we don’t recognize it as such. We associate revival with renewed efforts to capture God through prayer and repentance. However, the great revivals in history were called “awakenings” for a reason. An awakening is a return to consciousness. It is not convincing God to come be with us, but realizing He is with us always. His presence is so just like His love. 

Our efforts to corral God are a symptom of the ego’s blindness and inability to comprehend the love of Christ. The flesh is always striving to obtain. The Spirit rests in having. Hebrews chapters three and four equate God’s Promised Land with rest. The ego dies in the wilderness of gaining and becoming. The new creation doesn’t have to chase God anymore. It knows through Christ all of life is sacred, and every moment is defined by His love. Nothing can diminish the love of Christ, not human suffering or weakness, nor any lack or want. God’s love is infinitely deep and wide, and life’s great revelation is we are immersed in it.

(1) Near the end of his life, the Lord revealed Himself to my dad in the most astonishing way. You can read his story here.