Whispers of Love

Throughout the Bible, intertwined in church history, pulsing through American history, and boiling over into today, it always seems to be – there are voices of hate who speak opinions in the name of God.  It’s as if there is a feel of representation of God, like one of the prophets.  Interestingly enough, many of those voices are “prophets” who happily call out anyone who doesn’t believe like them.  It’s always a pointing of fingers in a show of how bad “they” are.  Maybe it is so they can also feel justified in their anger.  Certainly if someone doesn’t believe exactly as we have interpreted the Bible, those are grounds for calling them out, maybe even hating them?  

These voices are very loud.  They bounce off the walls of our hearts and minds.  They fill our sanctuaries, our offices, our shopping places and everywhere in between.  They fill our TVs and our phones.  They speak loudly.  And it seems the voices always scream hatred, or at least some twisted version of the love of God.  It can be easy to fall right in line with those voices.  They are everywhere.  And they can make everyone who believes the same feel empowered.  But ultimately, that’s what it’s about, right?  It really is all about power (with maybe some greed thrown in).  Believe like me…or else…

There are still other voices, though.  There are voices of love which often become whispers because the others are drowning them out.  The whispers of love let those who have been harmed, removed, beat down, excluded, and shut out know there is still a safe place.  There is still love here.  It may be whispers, but those whispers are kind.  Those whispers speak words of welcome.  Those whispers remind the forgotten and the discarded there is love still here.  The shouts of hate do not always win.  The whispers of love just continue to envelope those who need it.

I know because unknowingly, throughout my life, I have been uninvited to tables.  I have heard the phrase… “if anyone believes like that, they better not sit at my table.” The group didn’t know that meant I was no longer invited, though.  I have had the slap on the back of the group who are ready to call out the sins of others (that would be the sins of other people, not their own sins).  I have heard the snide remarks from those I love so dearly, not knowing I didn’t agree.  I have been in rooms where I was not welcome, only the voices didn’t know me.  And, understand clearly, all the voices were doing this in the name of Jesus or faith or God or Christianity.  The voices weren’t intending to do anything except make sure “those” folks knew how wrong they were and how they were going to hell and they better get their life straight, correct their beliefs and start believing the “right” way.  Of course, the right way is the way we read and interpret, right?

My personal saving grace has been found in the whispers of love.  It is hard to hear them.  They are faint.  I’ve almost missed them, but they are there.  And they tell me there are still tables I am welcome.  Some of those whispers even speak the name of Jesus. 

If you feel abandoned, hurt, excluded or generally beaten down, stop and listen.  There are still the whispers of love.  They will never be completely drowned out by the loudest of voices.  They are there…we are there.  You are not alone.  Welcome to the table, abandoned, forgotten, displaced. Welcome.