TEXT: I Corinthians 13:7

SUBJECT: What Love is #11: Not suspicious

What does it mean to "believe all things"? It does not mean love is gullible or easily deceived. The love that "believes all things" also "rejoices in the truth". Paul makes the same point elsewhere. In 14:20, for example, he says, "Brethren, do not be children in understanding". In other words, be discerning. In I Thessalonians 5:21, he is even clearer: "Test all things". The Proverb calls the man who "believes every word" a "simpleton".

If it doesn't mean that, what does it mean? Something like this: Love is not suspicious; love thinks the best of others. Let me illustrate: A brother in the church loses his job. One man learns of it and says, "Ah ha! I knew he was a lazy bum!" Someone else, though thinks, "There must have been a cut-back at the office". Either man could be right. But notice, one assumes the worst, the other thinks the best. Why? Because one is living in brotherly love, the other is not.

Is it your duty to "believe all things"? It is. Here's why: We are commanded to "love one another". But "believing all things" is a quality of love. Therefore, we must "believe all things". If we don't, we're not living in love--which is, for church life--"the one thing needful".

The "Golden Rule" also demands it. Would you have others think well of you? If so, you must think well of them. Would you have them challenge your every action, word, and motive? If not, you mustn't challenge theirs. That, in sum, is ethical teaching of the Bible. "Whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets" (Matthew 7:12).

Good examples enforce the duty. One day a young man tried to join the church in Jerusalem. The church, though, wanted no part of him, for they knew he was up to no good. But one man thought otherwise; he talked the Apostles into receiving the new convert. The man's name was Joseph, but they called him "Barnabas"--son of consolation. And rightly so, for he was a good man and generous in his opinion of others. As for the new convert? He was named Saul of Tarsus. This was "written for our example, that we might learn to live in brotherly love".

Aquila and Priscilla are another good example. Once they went to church in Ephesus and heard a very impressive preacher preaching an incomplete Gospel. All he knew was "the baptism of John"--Messiah is coming. Had they been skeptics, they would have dismissed him as preaching "Another Gospel". But they didn't. They pulled him aside and "explained to him the Gospel more accurately". Through their love, he became a great blessing to the church, "helping those who believed through grace" and "vigorously refuting the Jews, showing from the Scriptures that Jesus is the Christ". The man was Apollos.

Bad examples reinforce the duty of "believing all things". Is there an uglier woman in the Bible than David's wife, Michal? What made her so repulsive? She was uncharitable and suspicious. When her husband "danced before the LORD with all his might", she met him at the door, disgusted, charging him with indecent exposure.

If Michal is the ugliest women, then Job's three friends are the ugliest men. When they saw Job, covered with boils, bereft of family, sunk in poverty, they "comforted" him by blaming him for his predicament. Though they had no evidence, they were just sure that this holy man was the world's worst hypocrite. Zophar summed up their "love" with these immortal words: "Know therefore, that God exacts from you less than your iniquity deserves" (11:6).

And so, whom do you think are the better examples? Whom do you think God would have you follow? Is it Barnabas, Aquila, and Priscilla? Or Michal and the friends of Job? If you think the former are better role models than the latter, you had better "believe all things".

If "believing all things" is God's will, it follows that there are dangers in not doing it. What are they? Four things come to mind.

Firstly, suspicion makes one's life miserable. He cannot enjoy other people, for he's always on-guard; always wondering what they're are up to. This makes fellowship impossible. And we need that, for even before the Fall, "It is not good that man should be alone". But suspicion does just that--it isolates you from brothers and sisters who would do you good, if only you'd let them.

Secondly, suspicion discourages other people. It puts them on the defensive and makes them afraid to do anything for fear of being called on it.

Thirdly, suspicion makes church life impossible. The church is built on mutual love and trust. When we lose these things, we lose the church. I know a pastor who recorded phone conversations with his people. All he wanted to do--he said--was to document everything. That may have been his desire, but it wasn't the effect. He injected fear and distrust into the church. He "won" his controversy with these people, but at the cost of his church life.

And so, suspicion is a very bad thing. For you. For others. For the church. And for Christ, who makes His people known by their "love one for another".

How do we live more charitably toward others? We must have a new heart and a clean heart. God give it to us, for Christ's sake. But what practical steps can we take to live less cynically than we do? Here are some ideas:

Remember that people are weak. Not every bad thing is the result of sin; many are but signs of weakness. For example, forgetfulness. One day a brother had some serious dental work done and needed a ride home. He asked me if I'd do it, and I agreed. But then, I forgot to do it. Later that day, I dropped in to see him and--seeing his swollen cheeks, I said,

"Uh oh! I was supposed to pick you up today at the dentist, wasn't I?"

"Yes".

"I'm so sorry. It slipped my mind entirely".

"I thought so."

"How'd you get home?"

"I walked".

This brother was a model of patience. Instead of tearing into me for lying to him or being unreliable, he knew what happened: I forgot. And that is a weakness, not a sin.

Another example: awkwardness. Some people are not well-trained in the social graces. Often they do offensive things. We can look at these things in two ways, as sins to be reproved or as mistakes to be overlooked. Again, I'll use myself as an example. One day a woman came to church and wanted to talk with me for a few minutes. We chatted nicely. At least I thought we did. But she went to someone else and said, "Why is Pastor so mean?" Mean? I just couldn't believe it. I talked to my wife about it and she told me why: "It's your body language". Was I trying to offend the lady? I wasn't. I just hadn't thought of how I was sitting and what it implied. I was clumsy, not sinful.

If it is a man's "glory to overlook a transgression", how much more ought we do disregard the clumsy mistakes that other people make?

Why should we do this? There is one good reason: God does it. "He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust" (Psalm 103:14).

The second thing to do is to think about your own faults. "In many things, we offend all". All of us offend others--and in many ways. If we don't want people eyeing us with doubt, we must extend to them the same courtesy.

Thirdly, remember that sanctification is a process, not a one-time act. In other words, because a brother has disappointed you in the past does not mean he will do it again. Why? Because he is indwelt by the Holy Spirit, who will "keep on performing His work till the day of Jesus Christ". In other words, change is possible, in fact, it is inevitable.

Lastly, recall how charitable our Lord Jesus is to us. If He knows all things, He knows that the vows you make today you'll break tomorrow. But instead of chiding you for your inconsistency, He accepts your good intent.

The world is a cynical place, full of bitter men and women. Would we be different? Would we stand out? If so, we can begin here: By "believing all things". God give us this brotherly love. For Christ's sake. Amen.