Last week I had a great adventure with a special 13-year-old.
As each of our nine grandchildren crosses the threshold into their teens, I’m hoping they will want to join Bah Poo (that would be me) on a trip to a state of their choice. Nico, the oldest of our grands, chose a trip to Maine.
Our travels included two days on Vinalhaven – a beautiful island in the middle of Penobscot Bay – at the home of our dear friend and gracious hostess Sue Armstrong. Our very first night featured Maine’s most famous contribution to American cuisine. We each got to dive into a whole lobster.
As the picture above suggests, Nico was enthusiastic. So was I.
The problem with lobsters, of course, is that they have to be cooked – steamed, actually, for about 17 minutes, after being lowered into a pot of boiling water.
Prior to that moment, each lobster is quite alive. They twitch and move and stare at you with those beady lobster eyes, which seem to be pleading, “Doesn’t fried chicken sound really fantastic right about now?”
The task of lowering each of our crustaceans into the boiling pot fell to me. It’s not an easy thing to do. Most of us are glad to have meat in our diets. But very few 21st century Americans ever have to make actual eye contact with the cows, pigs, chickens, or fish that are heading for our dinner plates or fast-food bags.
We like it that way. It absolves us of a certain amount of emotional anguish.
Previous generations, of course, couldn’t have imagined purchasing plastic-wrapped meat at a grocery store. That would include everyone in Bible times – especially God’s chosen people, the descendants of Abraham, who were specifically instructed to bring live animals to the temple on a routine basis and offer them as sacrifices.
Christians celebrate the fact that we are saved by the blood of a lamb – Jesus, the Lamb of God, as he was identified by John the Baptist (John 1:29).
Some of history’s most famous hymns and songs concern the efficacy of Jesus’ blood – language intended to connote Jesus’ history-changing accomplishments on the cross. Those include There is Power in the Blood, Nothing But the Blood, Are You Washed in the Blood? There is a Fountain Filled with Blood, At the Cross (Love Ran Red), and myriads of others.
If you want to rile up a true believer, ask whether Jesus’ blood is really that big of a deal. According to the New Testament, it most certainly is.
The irony, of course, is a good many of those true believers might faint in the presence of real blood, and have never seriously contemplated the sights, smells, and emotions that typically accompany the bringing of a live animal to the altar.
In recent years, in fact, the whole notion of sacrifice has been called into question. In the Torah – the first five books of the Bible – why does God demand so much death? How did sacrifice end up at the center of the most important meal in both Judaism (the Passover) and Christianity (the Lord’s Supper)?
Some years ago a professor in one of my denomination’s seminaries suggested it was time to rewrite the meaning of Jesus’ life and death. “We don’t need all that blood and stuff,” she said, for which she was roundly assailed. But she no doubt spoke for a growing number of people.
Is sacrifice really essential to a relationship with God?
Let’s put it this way: If we truly wish to experience true love (which Miracle Max in The Princess Bride rightly points out is the greatest thing in the world), there is going to be suffering. True love always requires a sacrifice.
For instance, the only way for children to become healthy adults is for loving parents to surrender a gigantic portion of their time, their resources, and their energy.
One of the reasons Nico is such an incredible kid is that my son and daughter-in-law would not only die for him, but have spent 13 years faithfully living for him – nurturing his body, mind, and spirit.
Timothy Keller points out that if moms and dads refuse to make such a sacrifice, their kids will pay the price by being emotionally damaged.
Either way, someone has to pay.
If you choose to spend time with an emotionally anguished person, it’s going to cost you something. At some level you’ll feel drained. You will give away some of your fullness so they won’t feel so empty.
And you’ll wonder from time to time if you’re really making a difference.
Anyone who has ever made a positive impact on your life – a coach, a spouse, or a teacher – gave something up so you could be blessed, so you didn’t have to face something that was quite so hard.
That’s what true love is all about.
That’s what God love is all about, too. Ultimately, it comes down to sacrifice. “This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice for our sins” (I John 4:10).
If you’re wondering about the lobsters, they tasted wonderful. I thanked each one as I lowered it into the pot.
Even as I type these words, my gratitude seems incredibly trivial compared to their sacrifice.
But that, of course, pales in comparison to the distance between what God has done for us and the words of thanks we occasionally muster.
Jesus is the embodiment of true love. He has made the ultimate sacrifice.
Which is why our lives, in this world and the next, will never be the same.
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