The Sound of Agape

Hang in there. Vacation Bible school is almost over. Three days left out of four might not sound like “almost over,” but it is when you think that I went to the first meeting about VBS on March 13 (and it was actually the second meeting for the group). Anyway, hang in there; soon I’ll stop talking about VBS and move on to something else.

I find it ironic – comforting – cool – that the room we chose for the craft team meetings is called “Agape.” The Community VBS team chose that room because it is the sound room for the host church’s Sanctuary, and we all felt that the thousands of dollars of sound equipment would be safer in a room with adults rather than with five year olds. But I still like the name of the room – I want a projection system and a room called Agape for my church.

In the prayer I used to send the craft team off to the children’s classrooms, I used the word agape three times. Yes, I counted, and yes, I did it on purpose. What a waste it would have been to be in a room called agape and yet to not have acknowledged it. My older son, who is a youth, and is helping with crafts (or might just be pretending to be helping with crafts), was in the room during the meeting and prayer.

Conversation on the way home:

G: What’s that word you used in the prayer?
Me: Agape?
G: Yea! A-gap-e. What does it mean?
Me: (I hate theology on the run, without time for preparation, but, as they say, “these are the moments”). Uh (brilliant, so far, right?) – well, it means the kind of love that God has for us – unconditional love.
G: OK. I just like the word. A-gap-e. A-gap-e.
Me: (catching on) You mean you like the sound of the word?
G: Yea! A-gap-e. A-gap-e. A-gap-e.

Our boys are 13 and 9 (10 this month – just how did that happen?). They are brothers. They pick; they fight; they argue. They argue over big stuff, and – what frustrates me to no end – they argue over silly, stupid stuff. They hit; they kick – it drives me up the wall. I spend unending amounts of time trying to get them to just “be nice” to each other – or to at least ignore each other. We talk about putting the other person first, trying to make the OTHER person happy. Most of the time I feel like I have an invisible voice.

There are moments, which I hope are previews of coming attractions, when they are actually nice, even brotherly, to each other. When J road the Drop Zone at KI (which is a free-fall drop out of the sky of about 1,236,683 feet (give or take), the first person J ran to when he got off the ride was G, “G, I DID IT!” Moments.

Our younger son, J, has an awful habit of not keeping his room neat. OK, that sounds like he leaves his shoes in the floor. “Not keeping his room neat” is a euphemism for layers and layers of clutter -- life’s shrapnel. If it goes in J’s room, it lands on his floor. And it stays there. His room is much like my desk at home, except that his room is bigger. He’s been under orders for about two weeks now to clean it up. Bit by bit, evening by evening, he’s been working on it. He hates it, but he’s been doing it, and there has been some progress.

Yesterday, S took his lunch hour and cleaned J’s room. He pitched trash; he put things away; he carted them off. He then vacuumed. The room is neat, and even smells good. S didn’t tell J, so when J walked into the room after VBS to get ready for bed, he ran back out again. “G, come look at my room! Who cleaned my room!” (Aside, I love that question. Who cleaned my room? Like we have elves. Actually, elves would be good. Where can I get elves?)

S came down the hallway and got a huge hug from his youngest son. Moving to the doorway, we all paused to admire its cleanliness. I said, “This is agape. Doing something for someone for no reason except that you love them. A-gap-e.

I think S may be on the right track. Maybe instead of talking to the boys so much about being nice to each other, I need to show them. More acts of agape.

I think I like the sound of the word, too.