For a pretty long time, I hated cool people. I hated them for their exclusivity, for their feigned closeness with me, for how people seemed to love them. Cool people were easy to hate.
I used to talk to the Lord about cool people being brought to a place of humility, daydreaming that everyone would see through their veil and that they would be revealed for the malicious scum they really were. I hated cool people. But for so long, I didn’t think that I did.
I’m great at faking the politics of cordiality, at putting up a front of polite love, but always stiff-arming them like they did me. I was cold and frustrated and I hated cool people. They were the lost within the Body, the ugly part of the Bride. They were unneeded, and I felt like I was the only one who saw it.
And for a very long time, I easily (too easily) rationalized my bitter hatred because of what they were like. They were too good for everyone, they were interested and concerned with things I wasn’t, things I deemed unworthy of attention. They weren’t like me.
I felt like it was right to hate cool people as a believer. That somehow they needed my mindful condescension to be humbled into not being cool.
I hated cool people..
until recently when I took 1 John in my final semester at New Tribes. And do you know what John writes about?
That you cannot love and obey God while hating your brothers. And he doesn’t only write it once, but his book is permeated with the same principle over and over: if you think you love God, and hate your brother, you are a liar.
‘But God, I thought cool people were excluded from that. I thought they needed my quiet bitterness.’
1 John is clear- I cannot love and obey God, and hate my brothers.
That was the first time that I ever began to believe that in almost ten years of being a believer.
But John won’t stop there. He points to the source of this love, that is abiding in the vine.
And it began to click.
As my fellowship with the Lord, and my abiding in Him, increased and grew, so did a genuine love for cool people. And I was shocked. People I never had a genuine love for were becoming the object of a new affection. I was in awe that God’s Word was true, and that for the first time, I cared for cool people.
Because the reality is there: if I claim to love God and hate cool people within the body, I am deceived.
And better still, this love for cool people cannot come from me. Because when I thought it did, the most I could give was polite speech disguising a dissatisfaction with their very person.
It has to come from the abiding love of Christ.
So I’m learning.
I’m learning that loving cool people is sweet and rewarding and is a joy. And that my love for them isn’t dependent on them changing or including me or loving me, which it always was.
But learning that I just get to abide and believe God for loving them, I no longer have expectations for a reciprocal love as the reward for my effort. And that is the most freeing feeling in the world.
It’s worth it.
It’s worth it to love people. It’s worth it to believe God. It’s worth it to count grace as enough to bridge a gap in our hearts.
It’s worth it.