An Abundance of Love

A continuation of themes developed in "A Deficiency of Love"

Reflections on the Penn State Tragedy
by Tim Henderson

It's been a strange couple of weeks. How are you guys doing? Tired? Weary? Yeah, me too. I feel like I did when I used to pull all-nighters.

So let me show you something happy. Last week I talked about my youngest son Max because in my empathy for the alleged victims I was haunted by the possibility that it could have been him.

The truth is that Max is doing great; he's safe and well. Max is doing what every little boy should be doing the weeks before Christmas; he's making lists. I found this on the kitchen counter last night. It gives you a glimpse into the heart of a little boy.

Stars are rankings. The more stars there are, the more important it is that we come through. I overheard him and Kellie talking as he was starring this one. "Okay Max, I get it." In case we didn't get it he was kind enough to count the stars. I understand that we are to begin with the seven star present, and work our way toward the one star present until we run out of money.

His little sister Sadie, who adores him, but doesn't spell too well followed suit. Here is her list. That makes me happy.

Our talk from last week has been bounced all over the internet. And thanks to you amazing students it's been all over Penn State. You guys are incredible. And so many have worked so hard to love the students here by engaging in conversation or inviting them to think about the scandal though that talk. You are why I never want to leave Penn State.

Thousands of people have read it or listened to it and I've gotten emails about it from people all over the country. A number of those letters have come from sexual abuse victims who wanted to tell me their story. I'd like to read you a couple excerpts and then let you know where I think we need to go from here.

I am an abuse survivor. It happened when I was 12, and the abuser was my step-dad. I left a note for my mom, as I was too ashamed to tell her to her face. How do you talk about that as a 12-year-old girl? My mom never did anything. My step-dad later told me that he found my note and had shown it to my mom; he said he was sorry, and I think I told him that it was okay, and he never brought it up again. My mom never said a word.

Can you imagine? Her mom never said a word. Another woman wrote:

I am 67 and was sexually molested when I was 9 years old by a relative my parents had taken in who had nowhere else to go. Praise God our "help," a precious black woman, had the courage to call my mother. If you are not from the south you don't know the courage that took for a black woman to "turn in" a white man in the fifties in Mississippi. My parents were not prejudiced people, but the protocol of that time was very prejudiced. That single incidence has haunted me all of my life. Even though I have forgiven the perpetrator, the memory will not leave.

That was 58 years ago and still it haunts her.

There are many others who have written to tell me their stories. One curious thing I couldn't help but notice is that none of the abuse stories have been from men. Just women. Now you tell me: is that because there are no men who have heard the talk and who were sexually abused? Or is it because as miserably difficult as it is for women to talk about, it's even harder for men? I believe there are men right now who are uncomfortable because you fear being exposed, and this is getting too close. I'm so sorry for what you have suffered, especially if no one ever noticed, or moved to intervene.

I think it's time that we begin to notice.

We began to think about this last week when we saw that the mother of victim six noticed her son's wet hair. That small detail was enough to alert her that something was off. Because she loved her son, she noticed his wet hair and moved to protect him. Love notices wet hair.

Tonight I want to call Cru to a new adventure with Christ. We say all the time that the end goal of Cru is to launch you into a life-long adventure with Christ. I want to suggest that that life-long adventure includes noticing the wet hair that is all around us. Not just in reference to sexual abuse, but more broadly to the need to be loved.

I am praying that we would become experts in love. I'm praying that we'd notice our neighbors, we'd noticed their needs, and because we love them, we'd move to serve them; to do whatever love compels us to do.

Tonight I want to show you:

What the problem does look like
What the solution could look like
And where sustaining power is found

Let's talk about the problem.

The problem is the world is full of badness and brokenness.

Sometime we are the perpetrators; sometimes we are the victims. It's because we are broken people living in a broken world that we need to love. But it's also because we are broken people living in a broken world that it's so difficult to love.

Last week we looked at Jesus' story of the Good Samaritan and his teaching that we must love our neighbors as ourselves. That statement, that we must love our neighbors with the same urgency and thoroughness that we love ourselves, is called the "Royal Law" in Scripture. Matthew, Mark, Luke, Jesus, Paul, James, and Moses - they all talk about it.

If the Royal Law, and the companion call to love to Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength were thoughtfully obeyed, we'd need no other laws. Everything else that God says is an unpacking of the particulars because we need instruction. We need practical guidance on how to love, and we need to be confronted with what lovelessness looks like. Let me show you an example of the Bible unpacking this.

Turn in your Bibles to Exodus 23. If you loved your neighbor like you love yourself every one of these would be automatic. As I read them to you, go through in your mind and check them off: loving my neighbor would cover this, loving my neighbor would cover this.

Would you please stand with me in honor of God's Word as I read it to you?

Do not spread false reports. Do not help a wicked man by being a malicious witness.

Do not follow the crowd in doing wrong. When you give testimony in a lawsuit, do not pervert justice by siding with the crowd, and do not show favoritism to a poor man in his lawsuit.

If you come across your enemy's ox or donkey wandering off, be sure to take it back to him. If you see the donkey of someone who hates you fallen down under its load, do not leave it there; be sure you help him with it.

Do not deny justice to your poor people in their lawsuits. Have nothing to do with a false charge and do not put an innocent or honest person to death, for I will not acquit the guilty.

Do not accept a bribe, for a bribe blinds those who see and twists the words of the righteous.

God gave us these laws to reveal his own holy character; to expose our failings so we'd turn to him for mercy, and to instruct us. To show us how to love. To provide the boundaries of behavior.

The laws in this section here are about a particular form of lovelessness; namely, the perversion of justice. Many forms of lovelessness fall under that heading. In fact, a deficiency of love necessarily produces injustice. We often think of justice as punishment for wrongdoers, but justice is bigger than that. Justice is everything being the way it's supposed to be.

When Martin Luther King, Jr. envisioned justice running down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream, he wasn't calling for punishment to be everywhere, but rather that wholeness would be everywhere, that things would be right, and that people would relate to one another in love. Dr. King was also quoting the Bible by the way; that's Amos 5.

Justice is goodness, but it's perverted everywhere we look. Loneliness, oppression, isolation, hunger, abuse, molestation, neglect, exclusion, disregard, and mockery are all forms of injustice. They result from our failure to love. And they are only cured by love.

It is love that enables us to see the signs of injustice, to see the wet hair, and it is love that motivates us to move towards those with wet hair and restore the brokenness around us.

Now, what the solution could look like.

Imagine with me- what would happen if we loved our neighbors as much as, and with the same energy that, we love ourselves? What would happen if you loved your neighbors as you love yourself?

Imagine what Penn State would look like if we not only restrained from perverting justice, but noticed the wet hair of those for whom justice has been perverted.

Think about the transformation opportunities among the men and women at Penn State who use sex as an anesthetic. Everyone longs to be loved. If you aren't receiving love, attention, affection, and approval in legitimate ways, you will find them in illegitimate ways.

Did you know studies have shown an inverse relationship between the affection and attention that a young woman gets from her father, and promiscuity? The more sexual partners a woman has, the less likely she is to have a close and loving relationship with her dad. The more her father has invested in her and loved her, delighted in her and protected her, the less likely she is to have multiple sexual partners. If her need to be loved is not being met, she will find a way to meet the need.

So men, imagine with me: Could you reduce the heart breaking promiscuity and immodesty at Penn State by taking genuine, non-sexual interest in the women in your classes? What could happen if you listen to them, treat them with respect, and affirm them? Sometimes wet hair isn't literally wet hair. Sometime it's a line of mascara running down a cheek. Sometimes it's too much mascara in the first place. If they are trying so hard to get your attention, perhaps you should give them your attention.

Guys, do you have any idea the power you have in the lives of women to make them feel valuable, worthy, lovely? Perhaps there would be less promiscuity when the needs for attention, affection, and approval are being met by love.

Or here's another opportunity for massive transformation here. Why do people drink so much at Penn State? We have two primary anesthetics here: sex and alcohol. At Penn State, this is how we medicate ourselves.

Why do we? There's always a reason for the things that we do. Just be honest, shout out surface reasons, deep reasons. Why do we drink so much alcohol at Penn State?

How could loving our neighbors help that? Can you envision a day when alcohol abuse plummets because people don't need it anymore?

The guy that is just getting hammered because he needs to forget, what if he finds instead a safe place to talk about whatever it is he's trying to forget?

The guy who has to drink to loosen up because he feels too self-conscious in social situations... What if he finds that when he's in the company of people who love him, he doesn't need to perform or worry what people think? What if he finds that love is a better social lubricant than alcohol?

Or the woman who drinks to excess because honestly it's fun? She just likes it. She likes the way it feels, the way it tastes, she likes to dance, she likes being at a party. Now I don't think we would do her any service by scolding her. I know what it is to want to be happy. I like being happy too. But if we loved her, could we point her to a higher, richer, more enduring source of joy?

Could there be for her love, laughter, happiness, delight in a community of people whose primary bond is not beer, but the love of God?

Can you envision a day when there is less alcohol abuse at Penn State because needs for safety, security, and joy are being met by love?

Now you fill in the blank. Where are there opportunities for transformation at Penn State? Where have you noticed wet hair? Sexual abuse victims, alcohol abuse, sexual immorality... There are others. Perhaps God will give you the grace to notice a need that love can address.

That's the problem, and the solution.

Now let's talk about sustaining power.

I think that God is calling us to something transformative within Cru. But I know full well that this talk is going to evaporate. It does not have the power to change your life.

Here's what does:

There is someone who experienced every form of injustice, for you. I'm speaking of course about Jesus and you may know that he suffered to pay the penalty of sin for you. He bore your sins of lovelessness and injustice in his body as a substitute in your place.

But do you realize that his identification with you was so absolute, his atonement was so complete that he didn't just pay for injustice, he was a victim of injustice? My friend Paul pointed this out last week at Sunday school.

Consider again Exodus 23:

Do not spread false reports. Do not help a wicked man by being a malicious witness.
Jesus was plagued by false reports, surrounded by malicious witnesses.

Do not follow the crowd in doing wrong. When you give testimony in a lawsuit, do not pervert justice by siding with the crowd.
Mob mentality ruled at Jesus' trial, and the crowds cried "Crucify!"

If you come across your enemy's ox or donkey wandering off, be sure to take it back to him. If you see the donkey of someone who hates you fallen down under its load, do not leave it there; be sure you help him with it.
After scourging Jesus they forced him to carry his cross to Calvary. But he was so weakened from the beating and the burden of the heavy cross was so great that he collapsed under its load, unable to go forward.

Have nothing to do with a false charge and do not put an innocent or honest person to death, for I will not acquit the guilty.
I don't think that one requires comment.

Do not accept a bribe, for a bribe blinds those who see and twists the words of the righteous.
Jesus was sold by one of his closest friends for 30 pieces of silver.

He submitted to that for you. When that penetrates you, you will be able to love. The more that soaks in, the more you will be able to sustain a radical love for your neighbors. A love that notices wet hair and moves to act.

If you want to start the adventure, here's your assignment:

Go home for Thanksgiving Break and love your parents. Love your brothers. Love your sisters.

When you get home, scan for wet hair. Imagine being at home and wearing goggles where everything and everyone is black and white, except for those that have "wet hair." What will you see?

Will you notice the "wet hair" when your sister gets defensive at the mention of food? Or when your mom has a few extra drinks? Will you notice your brother's sudden disengaged and aloof demeanor? Will you scan for "wet hair" at home?

In many of these instances, if you won't, nobody will. How easy would it have been for the mom to fail to notice her son's wet hair? I mean his pants were dry, his shirt was dry, everything was dry; everything except his hair. But that was enough. Enough for her to notice. Enough for her to take action. How about you? Will the clue be enough for you? Enough for you to act, intervene, and step in?

Because noticing isn't enough! It wouldn't have been enough for the mom. It would have done her son no good for her to notice and not act. And it won't be enough for you. What a shame if you and I do the work of noticing "wet hair" only to be negligent and do nothing.

Pay close attention this week. Notice the wet hair. And notice where you want to respond and where you don't. Learn about how you love. And then come back to Penn State.

I am praying that we will be men and women who notice and act. May we be men and women are so transformed by the incomprehensible love of Christ that we can't help but notice the "wet hair" around us.

Dream with me of how this will change our community if this truth penetrated our hearts. How it could change our roommates, classmates, siblings, and parents?How could it change us? Picture never living another day where the people around you, or where you, are hurting, broken, and unnoticed.

Pray for transformation here in Cru. That we would be a place where sexual abuse victims are safe, and there's someone to talk to. And pray for transformation at Penn State.

I will look forward to seeing you when you get back.