The special effects of loving rightly

There's a parable about an ancient people that had a prophecy. Their prophecy told them that one day, a hero would come to them who would right all the wrongs in their civilization and restore them to their proper place in the world. They were to recognize their hero by his resemblance with a mysterious face carved in stone in the woods outside their city. No one knew how or when the face in stone had appeared. More than anyone else, one young boy yearned for the prophecy to be fulfilled and so he spent all of his spare time (and some of the time others thought he ought not to have spare) studying the face in stone. He wanted to be sure that when the hero appeared, someone would recognize him. As time passed, he became somewhat of an oddity in town. Due to his obsession, he didn't quite fit in, but the people recognized that perhaps his obsession would some day serve the common good, so they let him alone. The priests that left offerings at the stone and polished it once a year largely ignored him. At the stone, he became more of a fixture than an oddity. Over time though, he developed a certain wisdom and when people became especially desperate for some out-of-the-ordinary advice, they sought him out. Those who followed his advice found it peculiarly helpful. When he was 30, a new king came to power who was especially inept and the people began to suffer. The kings advisors and priests became increasingly frustrated until finally one old priest was appointed to bring their distress to the young man. He walked slowly out to the stone to find him. He had personally never paid the young man any attention, but as he was the only one there, he found him easily. As he approached, he was struck by the young man's appearance. He stepped close to him and stared into his face. Then he hurried away, returning quickly with all the priests, the king and his advisors and the elders of their people. He instructed the young man to sit at the foot of the face in stone as everyone stared. Then he snatched the crown from the king's head and placed it upon the young man. It was now obvious. Over all his years of studying the face in stone, he had grown into the exact likeness of the face that had held his attention.

In the world of theology these days there is an renewed buzz about the idea that we become like what we love and worship. As far as I know, St. Augustine first stated this idea clearly and James K.A. Smith's Desiring the Kingdom has put it back on everyone's radar.

Most recently, my father-in-law's battle with cancer (lost yesterday evening) has reminded me of this truth. For a long time, I have been impressed with how Dan Crabtree loved God. My cynical nature occasionally brought to mind the accusations of Satan in Job: "Does Job love you [God] for nothing!? Have you [God] not made a hedge around him and all that he has?" Doesn't he have a loving and stable family, a good paying job and a great house on the beach?

In the past two years, there has been ample opportunity for his love for God to wane. There have been innumerable trips to the hospital for measured and beneficent torture. A healthy and active guy, he has had to cope with stretches of physical uselessness. A kind and attentive physician, with a new and exciting practice, he has had to give up his vocation. An extremely knowledgeable doctor, he has had to deal with a roller-coaster of the unknown and unknowable. He has had to prepare for death long before any of us would have expected it and he continually modelled Job's response to his trials: "The Lord gives and the Lord can take away. Blessed be the Lord." We lost the battle with cancer yesterday. I can imagine him now, with all the perspective he undoubtedly has, laughing loudly about that last sentence. Through his devotion to God, Dan has been winning the war for his whole life.

His sincere love for God and his courageous confrontation with death demonstrated to everyone that as intimidating as death might be, it is a feeble enemy when one has been staring intently at the face of Jesus. With more time to devote to this practice, and perhaps identifying more with the crucified God than ever before, Dan only became more gentle, more gracious, more loving and more courageous. In short, he became more and more like the one he loved and worshipped. Assuming we are loving and worshipping in like manner, may the same be said of us.