This week my friend Sarah did something so unbelievable… so Jesus. She shared the story of her affair. She opened up her heart (and some of her husband’s, Chad’s heart) for us to see. And stomp on. And reject. Or hear and learn from.
It’s hard not to give up the punch-line (you really do need to read her whole story, it began on Monday’s post), but today I wanted to jump up and cheer CHAD, CHAD, CHAD! And of course Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—the cosmic Screwer-Upper (in Chad’s words). And then I sink back into my seat as I contemplate the biblical concept of spiritual adultery.
There came a moment in Sarah’s marriage when their pastors called a “come to Jesus meetin,” cleared their throats, and said, “Sarah, there’s something you need to tell Chad.” That’s when she dropped the lying face and let Chad see her true one—guilty, horrified, terrified. She told him everything. That she’d cheated. That she was an adulteress.
I’m sensing the invitation of the Spirit of God today: Many of us… maybe all of us, if we’re attentive, will hear a voice saying, “There’s something you need to tell Jesus.” The answer, I’m afraid, is that we’ve cheated on him. Given our hearts to something, someone OTHER than him.
We ignore him.
We kiss other loves right in front of his face. We don’t even try to do it behind his back.
We spend quality and quantity time with our other loves.
We justify it all with a finely tuned, pharisaical skill.
And then we come home at night, Judas like, and give him a token peck on the cheek: “Hail, Rabbi.”
It makes me sick.
How can I do such a thing?
How can I do it over and over?
Even more stunning, stupid, wonderful, how can He endure it?
Why does he let me give him that hollow peck?
Why does he take me back—not once, twice, or even a hundred times?
What must it be like to live with a “love” like mine?
How does it feel Sunday morning when I sing the songs I’ve made a mockery of all week?
How does it feel to realize every single day that the most costly sacrifice ever made, his blood, was shed for sins I barely acknowledge and often have no real intention of turning away from?
What about you?
If you haven’t already, pick up a copy of Beloved, my latest ebook. It’s only $2.99 and it will take you right into the heart of this mess… and out again.