There’s a lot of talk in the church today (especially in “worship” music, though it is not limited to that) about falling “in love” with God. Many times people refer to God as their lover.
I think this language comes out of a desire to get away from the sterile, organizational “relationship” (dang, I’m using a lot of quotation marks today!) that many people have with God. Our relationship with God is supposed to be one of deep intimacy and love, which is why we are given the name Abba to call God. This is not a term of tyranny, it is a term of love and security. God is our Father. Jesus is our brother. These relational terms go far beyond ways of relating to God that are devoid of feeling and passion. So it is good to try and find ways of expressing our relationship with God that portray this closeness.
But think about what our culture means when we say we are “in love” with someone. In relationship to a person, I cannot think of a time when this phrase does not have romantic overtones. I say that I am in love with my wife, but I don’t say I am in love with my dad or my brother. This is not to say that I don’t have a deep relationship with them, but it is not romantic. The same is true of the word lover. I would never say that my dad or brother is my lover, yet we say this about God.
It is true that I can say I am in love with football or that I am a lover of books, but these are inanimate objects (thanks to one Ryan Peter Lee for this point). When we apply these phrases or terms to people, they are naturally romantic. You could argue that our culture has hijacked these phrases and we shouldn’t be ruled by the semantic walls set up by the culture, but I’m not sure that is our choice. I could take a nap with my wife on a Sunday afternoon (if our son ever slept long enough to make this a possibility) and then say that I slept with my wife. Should I be upset that you think of something other than a nap?
If you haven’t noticed, I am a big fan of some of the new directions the church is heading (especially in young American evangelicalism since that’s what I know the most about, yes, I’m ignorant), but I think in our search for ways to communicate intimacy with God in our language and our worship we sometimes use language that misrepresents our relationship with Him. He still is the all-powerful Creator who is far greater than we are, and he is worthy of respect and honor. I don’t think romantic terminology aimed at God gives Him these things. We need to be careful what our words communicate. We love God with all our hearts, minds, souls, and strengths, and we do it passionately and intimately, but not romantically.
1 comment:
Great thoughts on what you wrote about loving God. I think those are tough issues. I find it hard to think that you can be saved (not necessarily in the over the line not going to hell sense, but more in the becoming like Jesus freed from sin for this life and the next sense) without at least being devoted to God. I think devotion carries some sense of love with it, although it is more than that too. But then I also think of the great commandment which says we are to love God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength. So in that case it seems that love is essential to obedience. (Can you tell I write totally in stream of consciousness?)
I think where we might get off track is when we make our love for God romantic or mushy. Love can mean so many things too that it is hard to just say we are to love God and leave it at that. Does it mean I feel (and think) the same about God as the Vikings or Coldstone? Does it mean I interact with God the same as my wife or my friends? Good things to think about, thanks!
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