Recently I read a short piece by Miriam Williams, whom I am told is a writer from Kentucky living in Philadelphia. I don’t know much else about her, but I found the essay interesting. The title of her piece asked the question, “Does love have its limits?” Quickly thinking about this, my response was mixed. I realized that in theory I wanted to say no: love does not have limits. We can think of Jesus or other spiritual giants and feel secure in this answer. But then, the realistic, practical side of me kicked in. Of course in theory there are no limits to love, but practically speaking my love and that of most people is limited.
That is why I believe most of us are in the process of growing in love. We are not there yet, but we can make progress. This is hopeful. In fact, anything less than growing in love may doom us and our culture and communities to bad things. If we don’t grow in love, I don’t know how we will ever solve the big problems of our lives: poverty, war, etc. But what will it take for love to grow?
This is where Williams’ thoughts helped me think more creatively. Rightly she recognizes how easy it is to love those who are like us---family, friends, etc. This recalls Jesus’ words that it is easy to muster this kind of love. We don’t even have to think about it; it requires no calculation and almost no effort. It is the hard love that most of us don’t think about and don’t even know how to go about it---even if we wanted to do so. Here is where Williams offered me some insight.
She frames her thoughts about this central question: “How realistic is it to expect people to love those who are entirely unlike themselves?” Let’s borrow a couple of her thoughts and develop them. The first thing she offers is “loving someone also means believing them…” It is clever to combine love and belief. When we do that, I recognize how hard it would be to love someone I did not believe. For one thing, I would not trust that person. It would be difficult to be vulnerable. And vulnerability is at the heart of love. If you are not willing to be vulnerable, there will be no authentic love. The best we could do is pretend.
I wish I could engage Williams in a conversation. To love someone is to believe in them. When she uses belief language, she is talking cognitively---intellectually. Belief is often a head thing. We mull it over in our brain and make a rational decision. Scientific method calls for some evidence in order to believe. Is this what she is talking about? I don’t know. But I want to be open to this option for belief. But I also want to take a step further.
I know in the classical languages, like Greek, the word which we translate “believe” can just as well be translated as “trust.” In this sense Williams tells us that to love someone means trusting them. I like this. To trust someone hooks into the vulnerability we just mentioned. That is why love is so tricky. It is not merely a cognitive, rational decision. Authentic love moves to the level of our heart. We have to trust. Trust is less a decision and more like taking a risk. We all know that love can be a risky business. But I don’t see any other way. We jump in and begin to love…or we stand on the sideline watching.
I want to borrow one more idea from Williams. She helps me think about what she calls our capacity to expand love. For me this is her way of talking about how to make love grow. This is particularly important when we are trying to love beyond our family and friends. I was surprised by her answer, but realized how powerful it could be. She says, “I believe our capacity to love expands not with colorblindness or neutrality about another person's gender representation, but with our capacity to listen.”
She does not say divisive issues of our time---race, sexual orientation---are not unimportant. We will need to contend with those. But more importantly, she claims, is our capacity to listen. That is brilliant. It will be very difficult to love if we cannot listen---or don’t want to listen to someone else. This will be especially the case when it comes to race and gender. If we can’t learn to listen to those who are not like us---not family and friends---we probably have little chance to learn to love and to grow in that love.
When I come to this place, I almost laugh out loud. To learn and to grow in love comes down to a couple very simple things: trust and listen. But I also realize that simple things are not always easy things. Some folks are easier to trust that others. Some I am more willing to listen to than others. And on those two things---trust and listening---hinge my ability to expand my capacity to love.
Trust and listen are active verbs---you either do it or not. It is easy to see that if I cannot trust and listen, my ability to love is going to be quite restricted. I also recognize this is heart stuff. In some real way it requires me to put my heart in the hands of someone else. Love is always a give and take affair. Here’s my heart and I hope you can share your heart with me.
If we can do this, our love will grow and become expansive.
That is why I believe most of us are in the process of growing in love. We are not there yet, but we can make progress. This is hopeful. In fact, anything less than growing in love may doom us and our culture and communities to bad things. If we don’t grow in love, I don’t know how we will ever solve the big problems of our lives: poverty, war, etc. But what will it take for love to grow?
This is where Williams’ thoughts helped me think more creatively. Rightly she recognizes how easy it is to love those who are like us---family, friends, etc. This recalls Jesus’ words that it is easy to muster this kind of love. We don’t even have to think about it; it requires no calculation and almost no effort. It is the hard love that most of us don’t think about and don’t even know how to go about it---even if we wanted to do so. Here is where Williams offered me some insight.
She frames her thoughts about this central question: “How realistic is it to expect people to love those who are entirely unlike themselves?” Let’s borrow a couple of her thoughts and develop them. The first thing she offers is “loving someone also means believing them…” It is clever to combine love and belief. When we do that, I recognize how hard it would be to love someone I did not believe. For one thing, I would not trust that person. It would be difficult to be vulnerable. And vulnerability is at the heart of love. If you are not willing to be vulnerable, there will be no authentic love. The best we could do is pretend.
I wish I could engage Williams in a conversation. To love someone is to believe in them. When she uses belief language, she is talking cognitively---intellectually. Belief is often a head thing. We mull it over in our brain and make a rational decision. Scientific method calls for some evidence in order to believe. Is this what she is talking about? I don’t know. But I want to be open to this option for belief. But I also want to take a step further.
I know in the classical languages, like Greek, the word which we translate “believe” can just as well be translated as “trust.” In this sense Williams tells us that to love someone means trusting them. I like this. To trust someone hooks into the vulnerability we just mentioned. That is why love is so tricky. It is not merely a cognitive, rational decision. Authentic love moves to the level of our heart. We have to trust. Trust is less a decision and more like taking a risk. We all know that love can be a risky business. But I don’t see any other way. We jump in and begin to love…or we stand on the sideline watching.
I want to borrow one more idea from Williams. She helps me think about what she calls our capacity to expand love. For me this is her way of talking about how to make love grow. This is particularly important when we are trying to love beyond our family and friends. I was surprised by her answer, but realized how powerful it could be. She says, “I believe our capacity to love expands not with colorblindness or neutrality about another person's gender representation, but with our capacity to listen.”
She does not say divisive issues of our time---race, sexual orientation---are not unimportant. We will need to contend with those. But more importantly, she claims, is our capacity to listen. That is brilliant. It will be very difficult to love if we cannot listen---or don’t want to listen to someone else. This will be especially the case when it comes to race and gender. If we can’t learn to listen to those who are not like us---not family and friends---we probably have little chance to learn to love and to grow in that love.
When I come to this place, I almost laugh out loud. To learn and to grow in love comes down to a couple very simple things: trust and listen. But I also realize that simple things are not always easy things. Some folks are easier to trust that others. Some I am more willing to listen to than others. And on those two things---trust and listening---hinge my ability to expand my capacity to love.
Trust and listen are active verbs---you either do it or not. It is easy to see that if I cannot trust and listen, my ability to love is going to be quite restricted. I also recognize this is heart stuff. In some real way it requires me to put my heart in the hands of someone else. Love is always a give and take affair. Here’s my heart and I hope you can share your heart with me.
If we can do this, our love will grow and become expansive.
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