The complete U2 lyrics suggest that love for the world's shared humanity can unite all people even amidst great diversity. The Smiths' lyric has a different feel. But, it is not as drab as it first seems. Although there is despair, this is no teenage apathy or self-righteousness; it is love being sought in earnest, but never found. Lead singer Steven Morrissey cries out, “I need to be loved, just like everybody else does!”
These lyrics capture something of our age. But is it the struggle between communal hope and self-righteousness? I would argue that if we look at the entire lyrics we see that the common link is not a postmodern identity complex, but that they are both pleas for love in a world where love does not seem to prevail. U2 hopes for the reconciliation of the global community, and The Smiths hope for a reconciliation of two people. In both cases, there is a tension between what is and what could be. So through the seemingly opposite lenses of hope and despair we actually see two perspectives on a larger dilemma: unrequited love.
The Church has something in common with this dilemma, because it lives it. After all, as the body of Christ, the Church's existence compounds an excruciating tension: the perfect body of God's love and beauty, and at the same time, the bloody corpse of obedience and humiliation dangling on a cross. The Church captures this tension when it proclaims the abundant peace made known in Christ even amidst the poverty and suffering that moan all over the earth. The reconciliation between what is and what could be seems a mirage. But as Christians we know that God is working towards humanity's common-union. So what can assist the Church—that lives in this tension—to respond to the cries of unrequited love?
I don't pretend to suggest something new or revolutionary—just a reiteration of what lies at the heart of our faith: Jesus on the cross. God's response to the distance between God and us, and between us and each other, is the cross. This must perpetually remain tattooed on our hearts. When the cross falls from view, we have ceased to proclaim the Gospel, and risk reducing Christianity to morality or good citizenship. When the cross falls from view, we risk forgetting that it is God who is at work in Christ in ways that often lie beyond our comprehension. When the cross falls from view, we risk divorcing resurrection from servant-hood and the horrific pain in this life. The cross is God's embrace, and therefore, it becomes the arms of the Church that extend to others looking for love—arms that are wounded yet strong, pained yet loving, crucified yet resurrected.
A church that points to Jesus on the cross looks honestly at the world and knows the very real pain of division and loneliness that enclave the hearts of so many. And yet, it is charged by Jesus to see God's face of love—not in cute little angels with wings—but in the deep shadows and struggles of human hearts. The cross is not easy. It is not a quick fix prescription for instant relief. It is resisted in a world that so desperately yearns for black and white answers to the greyness of a complex society. It is resisted because it rejects success and happiness as the sure and exclusive signs of God's presence.
Unrequited love is not naïve; and so, if it is to be met in earnest and with the power to unite, the word of response from the Church must be able to do the heavy lifting over the long haul. This is what God has done in Jesus. The Word hanging on the cross is Love.
