The Kind of Love That Killed Him

La Reforma in Mexico City the morning before I saw the streets of glass and gold.

You will not find the warrior, the poet, the philosopher, or the Christian by staring in his eyes as if he were your mistress: better fight beside him, read with him, argue with him, pray with him.

-C.S. Lewis, On Friendship from The Four Loves 

Do what you came for, friend is the common English translation of what Jesus said to Judas in the Garden. That line was haunting me this previous week, reminding me that whoever came to betray I must still call, friend. Not just a claim but a conviction. As I have written about love before, it must be Diligent Election.

Whoever condemned me is likely a friend with whom I experienced that feeling C.S. Lewis described like, What? You too? I thought I was the only one…

So this is the scandal Jesus declared to his disciples: That they were no longer mere followers but friends. The truest friends acknowledge not only the self in the other as Aristotle would teach, but the divine deeper inside than material can reach. Friendship is the requisite for what Jesus taught would be the greatest form of loving. 

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends…

Jesus from John’s Gospel Account 15:13

When Judas confronted Jesus at the Garden of Gethsemane, the Nazarene was steadfast in his teachings. It would be this betrayer who last heard that beautiful word from the Lord's lips: friend.

What is canceling another person but the crucifixion of a human at one’s core? Isn’t this the lesson Jesus taught on murdering another in our hearts? I have seen cities with citizens who wear thousand yard stares while glaring through the souls that crowd their streets. Have those same eyes in friends of mine looked through me like an empty body?

They made me a mistress in their minds 

With visions of me they had their fantasies 

And now they have discarded me

But I will still welcome them as friends.

I refuse to discard Image Bearers of the Infinite as though scrolling through someone else’s seconds. Cruel rulers crucify not only for the person, but for the passers by. So this message isn't only for me. As I wrote last week: If they could do it to you. They would do it to me.

We were made to argue with one another, pray with one another, read together, and fight alongside each other. Do what you came for friend, but know murdering me isn’t the end. You are forgiven.

Have hope for resolve, reconciliation, and recommitment.

Until then, 

-Steven

PS. I still have not heard from anyone on Write of Passage’s staff. I still do not know who is behind this and do not know why this person or people came after me. I hope this provides some clarity for the many of you who have reached out in the past week.

I did, however, spend hours reading and reflecting on every single note you all sent to me. It was an honor to be a small positive part of your life. And if we can make something wonderful together as friends, know I am yours and open.