“Oh the overwhelming, never ending, reckless love of God.

Oh it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine.”-Reckless Love, Cory Asbury, Bethel Music

So, I stumbled across an article in a Christian magazine the other day, inspired by the song quoted above. The title was “Do We Really Believe in Reckless Love?” It went on to question whether it is theologically correct to say God’s love is reckless. Many learned people weighed in on the subject, and after much discussion, decided that it was not.

First of all, really church? Really. That’s how we want to spend our time and energy, practicing semantic nitpicking and taking shots at our brothers who poured their heart out in worship to God? They had people like that in Jesus’ time. Synagogues full of them. They were called Pharisees. Part of why He came the first time was to let them know that they were seriously off-task. That they had gotten so wrapped up in the letter of the law that they had forgotten the spirit.

If statistics are to be believed, in the time it took me to read the article, thirty children starved to death across the world, and this is what we want to be caught doing when Jesus comes back? Just a reminder, He is coming back. Look busy. Busy doing something else.

I looked up the definition of reckless. (On the dictionary app on my phone, because I’m a total nerd, if you must know.) I found some that fit their arguments, but I also found one, that to my theologically untrained eye, fits the spirit of the song.

Reckless (adj.)-having or showing no regard for consequences or danger.

It’s reckless to leave ninety-nine perfectly good sheep behind to go looking for the one. The one that’s lost probably because of something foolish it did. Got its fleece caught in a thornbush because it wandered away, and now can’t get free, or fell into a swiftly moving stream because it didn’t see the current, or got stuck on a high rock ledge because it didn’t realize it would be trapped, with no idea how to get down.

The world would tell that Shepherd

“You’ve got ninety-nine. Forget that one. It made it’s bed, let it lie in it.”

But instead, that Shepherd puts on His cloak, picks up His rod and staff and goes out searching, until He finds the one. He patiently untangles it’s fleece, or pulls it out of the stream or gently coaxes it down and takes it home on His shoulders to join the ninety-nine. I’ve been that sheep…a bunch of times. And when I was running away from Him as hard as I could, He was rearranging all the walls of the maze so that I was headed straight back to Him. I couldn’t earn it and I didnt deserve it, and yet, when I cried out He came. There’s a word for that, Grace.

My God forgives sinners who are just going to sin again, and He knows it. He loves people who are never going to love Him back, or will blame Him for everything that’s wrong in their lives. He rescues people that will never acknowledge that it was Him. He helps people who fight Him every step of the way. And still, He goes out and looks down the road every day hoping He will see us coming. He never stops wooing, never stops calling, never gives up on us, always hoping, always loving. Again and again and again. There’s a word for that too, Savior.

I call that reckless.