Substitute People No More

In God’s family, we are never the substitute people. We are his beloved.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Elizabethtown is one of my favorite movies. It has so many quotable lines that stick to your ribs, so to speak.

If you aren’t familiar with the movie, it’s about a failed shoe designer (Drew) on the way to his father’s funeral who meets a perky, quirky flight attendant (Claire). As their friendship/relationship progresses, she shares a theory with Drew.

“You and I have a special talent,” Claire says. “And I saw it immediately. We’re the substitute people. I’ve been the substitute person my whole life. I’m not an Ellen [a co-worker Drew was into]. I never wanted to be an Ellen. And I’m not a Cindy either [the bride from a wedding party they ended up accidentally attending] … I like being alone too much. I mean, I’m with a guy who is married to his academic career. I rarely see him, and I’m the substitute person there. I like it that way. It’s a lot less pressure.”

The first time I heard this term, it hit me hard. I’ve been the substitute person in potential romantic relationships and it’s never fun. The thing is, you know you are the substitute person but you keep hoping the other person will elevate you to first string. You know hope is slim, but just having that sliver of hope is all you need. In the end, though, you end up knowing you should have listened to your gut.

I had a conversation with a friend the other day about whether a certain group of people might accept me. I told him I’m slow to let my guard down until I know for sure. In a way, I was telling him I’ve been the substitute person even in potential friendships, and as a result, I’m always waiting to pass muster.

“Let me correct you there,” my buddy said. “Don’t say if you will be accepted but when. That’s what agape love does.”

This sent me searching for something C. S. Lewis wrote about agape love.

“So there are four kinds of ‘love,’ all good in their proper place, but Agape is the best because it is the kind God has for us and is good in all circumstances,” Lewis wrote. “There are people I mustn’t feel Eros towards, and people I can’t feel Storgë or Philia for; but I can practice Agape to God, Angels, Man and Beast, to the good and the bad, the old and the young, the far and the near. You see Agape is all giving, not getting.”

For years, I’ve clung to Psalm 68:6 which says God sets the lonely in families. My buddy reminded me that I’m already loved, both by God and others, and that I don’t have to do anything to earn acceptance.

So, what exactly does agape love look like and how might we express it? A few instances that come to mind might include shoveling the cranky neighbor’s driveway when he cannot, or anonymously meeting the financial need of someone who has been nothing but mean-spirited, or just welcoming someone who doesn’t look, act or think like we do.

We love God because he loved us first. And even while we were sinners, Christ died for us. In God’s family, we are never the substitute people. We are his beloved. How can we, in turn, act any other way toward others?