Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to him belong, they are weak but he is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so.
A profoundly simple lyric. For many, it contains an unfathomable truth. It is the Christian claim that the creator of all things knows me and loves me. This is the very best of evangelical Christianity, which emphasizes a personal relationship with God: a certain statement that God loves me. The evidence for this statement? The Bible tells me so.
For some reason, I have never doubted God’s love for me. I recognize that this is a heart-wrenching struggle for many who walk alongside me on planet Earth, but it has not been a personal conflict of mine. I have been involved in several other ebbs and flows of faith but for whatever reason, God’s love for me, or all of humanity for that matter, has not been at the center of any of those crises. Interestingly, that seems settled deep into my soul. I have a theory of why and it involves the child’s lyric above.
My parents are far from perfect, and they would be the first to admit that. However, one of the things that they got right was prioritizing the Christian faith in our home. Not limited to showing up at church (although, we did that A LOT) but actually letting the gospel shape our lives. My parents treated people right because of Christ’s admonition to love your neighbor as yourself. I legitimately do not have any memory of my parents mistreating anyone, that’s not a claim I can make about many adults. Decisions were made about what we did and did not do primarily through the lens of the gospel. My parents were the same people around Christians and non-Christians. I could go on with other examples, but I think you get the point: my parents are full of integrity. That matters when they are the primary ones shaping your worldview.
We sputtered through family devotional practices like most other families, our habits would be full in some seasons while lean through most others. But we did sing this simple hymn every night when I was younger. I don’t know when we stopped but I imagine it was whenever my parents stopped putting me to bed. These simple lyrics formed me through ritual and repetition that transcended a cognitive assertion of a doctrine. The theologian in me is now convinced that Christ sacramentally met me through these words by the power of the Holy Spirit and imparted trust in God’s love. I wasn’t given reasons to doubt God’s love, for the people who taught me this by singing it with me believed it and modeled it. What a grace for which I cannot put adequate words to articulate my gratitude.
So, Molly and I are cultivating our home around rituals of faith. We don’t have any magical practices that will guarantee our daughters’ devotion to God. But we get the great privilege of setting the table for them to feast. The food will look more appealing to Cosette and Birdie if they watch their parents enjoying it and finding life through it. As they participate with us, I imagine they will grow in their adoration of and commitment to the Triune God too. Thankfully, it is not up to our own effort, I trust that Christ is present through his Spirit drawing us all to the Father.
One connected final thought:
Life can be hard and people, including the church, can be disappointing. However, I believe in the power of simply showing up. I wrote this primarily for my own processing but I’m aware through many conversations and statistics that it is presently easy to dismiss the good news found in Christ as testified through Scripture. I find that many of my deconstructing friends are not deconstructing Christ as much as they are deconstructing what they have been taught, many for good reason. My charge to you, if you find yourself in that situation, is to keep showing up and give Christ a seat at the table as you pick a new worldview. If you continue to show up where Christ has promised to be present (an assembled gathering of believers with the intent of encountering God through worship) I trust that he will meet you there eventually.
