Love each other deeply

Shoveling in knee-deep snow, I find myself thinking of verses about snow – there are only two I can think of:

Come now, let us reason together, Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool. That’s from Isaiah. And from the psalms: Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

I wonder – how much snow did Isaiah, or the psalmist, see? And did they have this kind of snow in mind?

Even more, the snow makes me think of a passage from 1 Peter: Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

The thing about a heavy snow – this kind of crazy, almost two foot deep snow – is that it covers everything. A dusting doesn’t hide much, although it might make things look bright, or clean, for an hour or two. But deep snow changes things. My bird bath looks like a dome; our two Adirondack chairs are strange geometric shapes. Any dirt has vanished under the thick coat of white.

Theologically, it’s God’s love, the forgiveness offered through Christ’s death and resurrection, that washes us, and make us clean as snow. But Peter wasn’t writing to Jesus – he was writing to us: “Love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins.”

What does it mean to be loved with a love so deep it blankets our failings, hides our imperfections? We live in a culture that is quick to point out flaws, impatient with weakness. Our kids live under the constant scrutiny of teachers, coaches, peers, parents.

We are all quick to see the places where our youth fall short, where we ourselves fall short. Is it any wonder that anxiety is the new epidemic?

No one can measure up. We all fall short – and the knowledge is pressed into us every where we turn. Our kids feel as if they need to be perfect: perfect grades, perfect teeth, perfect figures, the best at anything they decide to try.

Back to theology – yes. We all fall short. Yet the good news, the amazing, grace-filled, joyful news, is that despite falling short, there is an offer of love, forgiveness, belonging. Our value isn’t dependent on meeting expectations.

Some days it breaks my heart to see how little of that news gets through. Kids are fearful that they’ve disappointed one more adult. They hide from one more word of judgment, run from one more place where they feel the weight of their constant inability to please.

This snow covers the imperfections in my garden, the weeds I never got to, the brown hosta leaves I meant to throw in the compost pile many weeks ago. It covers the cracks in the driveway, the unfinished rock edging to the new front garden bed. This snow, despite the shoveling, brings a season of rest from the expectations that fill my day. It makes our house a quiet cocoon, snug and peaceful.

Love each other deeply. Cover each other in love. Let love shape a place of safety, quiet, rest. Let love drift over disappointments, annoying habits, unmet expectations. Picture your love surrounding the people around you with acceptance, kindness, a gentle refusal to judge. Let love cover the multitude of sins, while we wait for the stirrings of new life, new creation, hidden underneath.