One of the mornings I had my students to read and meditate on Ps. 23. One of them came back saying, "There is nothing in this Psalm about what I have to do! It's all about what God is doing for me." Wow. Sit back and relax, people!

The Shepherd Psalm

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not lack. He makes me to lie down in green pastures: he leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul: he leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies: you anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. (KJV2000)

Rodolpho always has the best questions. Who knew that under those curly locks and behind the teasing smile hides a world of insightful contemplation. This week's question was,

- "Is God's love unconditional?"

- "Of course," I answered without hesitation.

- "But is God's love universal?"

Ha. Good one. That would mean that Christ's love will redeem all, independent of whether we acknowledge him or not.

I would say, though, that God's love is far greater than final redemption. Love does not equal salvation. His love is unconditional - Jesus will always always always love equally - the one who receives his love and the one who doesn't. His sun rises on both wicked and righteous, as the Word says. In order to experience his love you do not need to die with him. He will love to lavish his goodness on anybody. (And he does.)

(I saw Finger of God last weekend and there was an interesting part where Heidi Baker wanted to pray for a Muslim woman somewhere in Eastern Europe, but the translating pastor was trying to push for the woman to "receive Christ" before the praying could take place. Heidi fought to make him translate that she only wanted to bless this woman. Sounds like unconditional love to me.)

Love is unconditional. Salvation, on the other hand, is contingent upon a person receiving the gift and opening it.

But also, one can argue that the giving of love is unconditional, and it is possible to reject (an act of) love. Does that make love any less?

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.' We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

- Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles", Ch. 7, Section 3 (1992)

The Word doesn't need to become spirit. The Word is spirit. It needs to become flesh.

This is probably something I shouldn't say. If I was wise. I will say it anyway.

I don't really believe in church. Not in the sense we know it. And I know what you will say. That church is not about a building - we have moved away from that. Church is all God's people.

What I do believe in, on the other hand, is this movement of Jesus-carriers - knowing they are the temples of the greatest force in heaven and earth, totally abandoned to and lost in love, enjoying the Presence with exhilarating joy... not bound up in theories but living out (of) the reality within - of having died with Christ.

By the way, "church" (as well as the Germanic, Celtic, Slavic and Roman versions of the word) etymologically comes from the Greek word meaning "the Lord's (house)". In the New Testament that is often not the word used, but εκκλησία - made up of the preposition "ek" (out of) and "kaleo" (to call). I guess I can be part of that! Someone who is called out, set apart, completely different.

And can I just mention that Hebrews 12:1 and 23 also incorporates those that has transferred into the other realm (popularly called "heaven") into εκκλησία. We are one. And they are our witnesses. But that's a different story.

I love the part in the Chronicles of Narnia (Prince Caspian) where Lucy meets with Aslan.

"I saw you all right. They wouldn't believe me. They're all so—"

From somewhere deep inside Aslan's body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.

"I'm sorry," said Lucy, who understood some of his moods. "I didn't mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn't my fault anyway, was it?"

The Lion looked straight into her eyes.

"Oh, Aslan," said Lucy. "You don't mean it was? How could I – I couldn't have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I? Don't look at me like that… oh well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn't have been alone, I know, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?"

Aslan said nothing.

"You mean," said Lucy rather faintly, "that it would have turned out all right – somehow? But how? Please, Aslan! Am I not to know?"

"To know what would have happened, child?" said Aslan. "No. Nobody is ever told that."

"Oh dear," said Lucy.

"But anyone can find out what will happen," said Aslan. "If you go back to the others now, and wake them up; and tell them you have seen me again; and that you must all get up at once and follow me – what will happen? There is only one way of finding out."

"Do you mean that is what you want me to do?" gasped Lucy.

"Yes, little one," said Aslan.

"Will the others see you too?" asked Lucy.

"Certainly not at first," said Aslan. "Later on, it depends."

"But they won't believe me!" said Lucy.

"It doesn't matter," said Aslan.

"Oh dear, oh dear," said Lucy. "And I was so pleased at finding you again. And I thought you'd let me stay. And I thought you'd come roaring in and frighten all the enemies away – like last time. And now everything is going to be horrid."

"It is hard for you, little one," said Aslan. "But things never happen the same way twice. It has been hard for us all in Narnia before now."

Lucy buried her head in his mane to hide from his face. But there must have been magic in his mane. She could feel lion-strength going into her. Quite suddenly she sat up. "I'm sorry, Aslan," she said. "I'm ready now."

"Now you are a lioness," said Aslan. "And now all Narnia will be renewed. But come. We have no time to lose."

So gentle. So not judging. So not telling Lucy what to do. That's my Jesus. He lets me figure certain things out on my own. Use wisdom. But he never condemns. He never exhorts. He just gently points the way. And he says, "Go, sin no more" - as if it is possible.

"There are many more people among us in India who lead a spiritual life than in the West, although they do not know or confess Christ. It is of course true that people who live in India worship idols; but here in England people worship themselves, and that is still worse. Idol-worshippers seek the truth, but people over here, so far as I can see, seek pleasure and comfort. The people of the West understand how to use electricity and how to fly in the air. The men of the East have sought the truth. Of the three Wise Men who went to Palestine to see Jesus not one was from the West."

- Sundar Singh talking to the Archbishop of Canterbury, early 1920s. (Before he in 1929 walked into Tibet for the last time and was seen no more.)

So they say, but I must beg to differ. Love is overwhelming. It is intoxicating. God is love. The essence of God is not choice. And the essence of love is not choice. It is a rushing wind that will throw us down. No one has greater love than the one who lays down his life. It is a force that will never fail, it will never give up, it will always hope and it will always believe.

Last Monday just before morning worship I received bad news about my grand pa. So I was crying half the time and talking to Jesus about him and feeling the love towards my grand pa. And I was so full of this love that totally flowed over so that I wanted to tell my students that I loved them. A couple of hours later it had worn off and I felt a bit foolish and grateful that I didn't confess my love. Like a drunkard. But imagine. And Brother Lawrence said he felt it for 13 years straight, but he had learnt to practice the presence. It is possible to know overwhelming love. We love because he first loved us.