Jesus Loves The Little Children

I like songs like this.  I know that there is a fear of "indoctrinating" children, but I think God is happy that they are exposed to His existence.  What I wonder is when I stopped being loved.  Why is it that society tells us the Jesus loves the little children?  What about the big children, or even (gasp) the wicked adults? 

Suddenly society can tell us what God thinks about us, or rather claim that Deity reflects their feelings about us.  Why, when a child does something, is it forgivable.  They aren't really wicked at heart.  Maybe they were raised wrong.  Wasn't Hitler once a child?  When did he become unlovable?

"Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt ^alove thy ^bneighbour, and hate thine enemy.

  But I say unto you, ^aLove your ^benemies, ^cbless them that ^dcurse you, do ^egood to them that ^fhate you, and ^gpray for them which despitefully use you, and ^hpersecute you;

  That ye ^amay be the ^bchildren of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth ^crain on the just and on the unjust."  (Matthew 5:43-45)

 

I used to always think that we were supposed to love our enemies so we could be "good".  But here it says that we are commanded to do so in order to be like God.  For God loves our enemies just as assuredly as He loves us.  And He loves us whether we are good or bad.

 

I grew up with a more strict religious upbringing than my husband.  I am grateful for the knowledge it gave me at a young age, of the love of God for me, but inherent in such upbringings is a very real likelihood of pride, of judging not only other people according to their supposed righteousness, but also ourselves.

 "For with what ^ajudgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what ^bmeasure ye mete, it shall be ^cmeasured to you again."  (Matthew 7:2)

 

When we were first married, he used to always say he loved me, and I would ask him why.  This confused him.  He said there wasn't any "why" about it.  It was love.  If everything about me changed to something he didn't like, he would still love me.  This idea confused me greatly.  Who was I?  Was I not this overly righteous person I had so tried to become?  Wasn't I loveable because I was perfectly nonjudgmental?  If he didn't necessarily love anything about me, did he really love me? 

 

Victor Hugo (who else?) addresses this very perplexion in my favorite of his books, (and my favorite book.) "The Man Who Laughs".  (free here)



 

 

 Where Gwynplaine must choose between being loved by someone who loves him no matter his appearance, which she cannot see, and someone who loves him for his appearance.  Is it better to be loved despite who you are, or for who you are?  But what if you change?  Is it better to be unknown, and loved no matter who you are, or known, and loved for that part of you that is known?  But what of your other parts?  What if the part you are loved for is misinterpreted by your lover?

I would rather be known than loved.  I would rather someone truly understand me, than want my happiness.  But I have come to discover over the decades, that true love is not dependent on the traits of the person being loved, remaining static.

I prefer the last song on this disk:


"Jesus loves me when I'm good.  Jesus loves me when I'm bad."

Though "when I'm bad it makes him sad" could be grossly misinterpreted.
When I hear it I imagine a suffocating guardian leaning over one, saying, "Don't be bad, because that makes me sooooo sad!" in a manipulative voice.

True sadness from someone being bad whom I love comes not from them "disappointing" me, but from the true sorrow from consequences I cannot simultaneously prevent and give them their freedom at the same time.  Such as if a bad choice killed another in a car wreck.  If this happened to a loved one, it would indeed make me sad.  Thankfully Jesus has a cure for His sadness, as He can take away the horrendous sorrow we feel from regretting "being bad".