I recently heard a worship leader use this phrase during a service, “Let’s give it up for God!” The cheering and applause that ensued made it clear that the crowd was excited about praising and worshipping God. The phrase “give it up for” has worked its way into our language as a synonym for “give a round of applause.”
But what would we really give up for God? How much are we willing to sacrifice for him? Do we really love him enough to give it all up?
We’re in the middle of a series of studies in our church to refocus on what we as a congregation value most. Two of those four core values have to do with love: Jesus identified loving God and loving others as the two most important commandments. Because of this, I’m coming back to my own series here on examining the definition of love in 1 Corinthians 13.
Paul tells us that love is not self-seeking (1 Corinthians 13:5). Turning that around, I see that if I am not willing to sacrifice something for another, then I don’t truly love. When I need to give something up—whether it is for my friends or my wife or my God—my selfishness (and I have plenty of it) crawls out and tells me that I’ve given enough to them already and I deserve some “me time.”
What I tend to forget is that more often than not when I give up something, I tend to gain back more than I gave. Giving it up for someone else almost always ends up pouring the blessings back on me, often in ways that I could never have predicted.
But I have to watch my attitude—selfishness is insidious, and it’s a short trip from putting the other person first to giving with an expectation. That’s no longer sacrifice.
John Fischer, author of daily devotional The Fischtank, recently wrote an article on this topic. He identifies three levels of giving:
There is a kind of giving that also benefits the giver. There is a kind of giving in which the giver is ambivalent. And there is a kind of giving that pains the giver. The latter is the greatest and the hardest.
I’m fine with giving to God when it benefits me, even when I don’t know what that benefit might be. But giving when it hurts—and particularly when there is no chance for any benefit for me—that’s something I really struggle with. That sacrificial level is where I need to be. That would be the indication that my love for God is real, it’s honest, and it’s deep.
It also makes me realize that God doesn’t expect our love for him to be centered on a feeling. Yes, he wants us to feel love, but more than that he wants us to act on our love. Love is choosing to put him first. It’s acting as thought I love him even if I don’t feel like it. It’s thinking of his plan and his desires before mine.
I love my wife deeply and without reservations. Even if I tell her this on a regular basis (which I do), and every word of it is true (which it is), if my actions are selfish and don’t put her first, what good is that love? If I make my choices based on what’s best for me all the time, how does that honor her? She will quickly begin to doubt that my love is sincere.
Love at its core is not passion or emotion or feeling, though that is undeniably a part of it. It is first a choice to put the one you love first, it is a way of behaving to express that choice, and it is a discipline to keep making that choice consistently.
So what would I give up for God? Ask me that question today, and I’d have a long list of things. But there are some huge things that aren’t on the list. If I’m going to grow in my love for God, the first thing I have to do is start moving some of those things over onto the list.
I’ve found that the sin in my life often works like an avalanche. At first, the sin seems inconsequential, like a dusting of snow on the ground. What harm could it do? Then, slowly, little by little, the snow builds up. The whole time, though, the snow is beautiful and quiet. It just rests there, and there is no obvious danger. I get complacent, used to the snow, and I forget that there was once dry ground, lush with vegetation, beneath that snow.
