What is the ‘nature’ of Love?
I ordinarily dislike platitudes, especially when they’ve been ‘liked’ by nine gazillion droopy-eyed facebook readers with nothing to do but be agreeable. BUT I have been thinking on a certain platitude that I truly believe is life changing when we understand it and then act on it. Here goes. “Love is a choice.”
If it were not a choice, it could not be one of the most important elements of judgment. If we had no control over loving or not loving, we could not be held accountable for the degree of love we have when we meet the Lord in Judgment.
Think of all the things that this implies. We can neither fall into nor out of love. We do not naturally love. (If we naturally loved, we would not naturally be an enemy to God.)
So the more love we muster, the more God-like we are.
If charity is the best and most complete form of love and it is defined as the pure love of Christ, then the ultimate love is to love Christ, to receive his love and to therefore love as he loves. How does Christ love?
He loved so completely that he was never too tired, too hungry, too discouraged, too anything that he wouldn’t sacrifice his own interests for the sake of another. He loved so completely that he was willing to comfort the silly fears of those who broke his weary slumber to tell Him, the creator of earth and sky, that they were all about to perish in the storm. He was willing to make allowances for the late hour and his disciples’ tiredness when he was bearing the weight of all sin and evil and sorrow and disappointment on himself and they couldn’t seem to even stay awake. There was never a moment when his actions were self-serving. He was compassionate to weakness, selfishness, ignorance, sorrow, disappointment, grief, and pain. He was so in tune with the feelings of others, (however inferior) that the risen Lord wept for joy when he saw the righteousness and humility of his disciples.
Paul tells husbands to love their wives the way that Jesus loves the Church. He never got anything in return. His love is so unrequited that the only return he ever gets in the relationship is our USING the gift He gave to us. Imagine how a husband would survive if the only acknowledgement he ever receives is when his wife wears the sweater he gave her, or spends the money he earns. We’re talking about a level of love never depicted in movies or books, (except, perhaps in the Bishop’s case in Les Miserables.)
Paul also admonishes women to serve and love their husbands. Imagine the intensity of the love in a relationship where TWO people both strive to subvert self to serve the other! Where TWO people try to relinquish themselves in the interest of the other’s happiness. Why does it feel like such a risk? Where did we get the notion that in order for us to forgive, the other must repent? Do we think they must be sorry for their bad patterns in order for us to move forward? Not so. We are independent and will be judged independently.
I have seen great sorrow develop in marriages where each partner seems to measure the other’s contribution before doling out their own. This is not love, nor is it similar to it.
Even between parent and child, when a measuring stick is held up to the other before we decide what our own behavior will be, indicates a flaw in the fabric of their love.
Yet, it seems like a terrible risk, doesn’t it? Aren’t we supposed to hold ourselves to a certain level of self-respect? Aren’t we entitled to some small return on our efforts? Aren’t we taking a huge chance when we love freely without regard to whether or not it is returned? Imagine what it felt like when Jesus was crucified by the very men for whom he provided the earth, the atonement. His was the ultimate sacrifice of self when he submitted to the will of his beloved Father!
The good news is that love is not contingent on others’ behavior. It can be complete and whole and yet unreciprocated. It can bring joy and peace, even if those we love do not behave kindly toward us. There are no contingencies in love.
My ultimate goal, therefore, is to soften my own heart so completely that I sense others’ needs and am eager to fill them. That my gratitude for my Heavenly Father’s love drives me to love all those around me. I want to love so purely that my own interests are entirely encompassed by those around me. That my husband, who faithfully works to support our family, knows he is loved and appreciated, not because I measure back the time spent, but by my efforts to help and comfort him. I’ll be so mild in nature that I’ll lose the temptation to criticize anyone. I’ll feel my own shortcomings and weaknesses so acutely that I’ll have no need to point them out in others. And I’ll be so grateful for the pure love of Christ that rescues me from my state of selfishness, that I will praise Him through my actions and thoughts and words.
This is charity. The pure love of Christ. Is it possible that true love of any sort is only available through Him?