The Cost of Loving

L

et me share a personal experience. Some years back, I learned the deep meaning of what it means to set somebody free. My mother has been widowed for 20 years now. One time, my mom revealed to me about her relationship with a guy who is also widowed. When she first opened up, I was shocked. I just automatically responded, “What will happen now to papa?” She said, “Well your papa is long gone?” After she said that, I realized what I was too fearful about, that is, losing the precious memory of my father. The time came when I met personally the guy and I was proven so wrong about my initial fears. I witnessed personally how he loved my mother in a way that my siblings and I could not. Before they met each other, I would regularly get a call from her, which always meant listening to her crying moments over the phone. But when she got a boyfriend, those crying moments just disappeared. Now, if she remembers to make a call or chat, it just comes once in a blue moon. I said to God, Thank you, Lord, You sent this wonderful person to accompany my mother; your plan is the best because it just means she is happier. It was not my plan that prevailed, but it was God’s plan. It is true that when we let go, we start to see God’s wonderful plan play out before our eyes. God’s plan is always greater and full of surprises. If I had continued holding off, I would never have seen God’s beautiful handiwork in the life of my mother.

To love is to set free like the two sides of the same coin. Letting go means God is setting you free in the deepest sense of being set free. Listen to God telling you I have already loved you first, and the cost is on me. You do not have to repay what I have already given. An authentic response or giving back of love flows from this deep realization of a God who loved us first. In the latest encyclical Dilexit Nos, the Pope writes, "His open heart has gone before us and waits for us, unconditionally, asking only to offer [or give] us his love and friendship [f]or “he loved us first” (DN 1). Whatever it is that made you think you ought to repay God's love that was present from the begining, be freed from that, let go. When Jesus said “love one another as I love you,” he meant that we love without making others indebted to us. Just love freely, with no strings attached, as I have always loved you.

This brings me to my second point. The cost of loving is on God but we are still afraid to love because there are risks. Let me share a poem entitled Risks by Leo F. Buscaglia (also known as “Dr Love”)

To laugh is to risk appearing the fool

To weep is to risk appearing sentimental

To reach out for another is to risk involvement

To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self

To place your ideas and dreams before the crowd is to risk their loss

To love is to risk not being loved in return

To live is to risk dying

To hope is to risk despair

To try is to risk failure

But risk must be taken,

because .... the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.

The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing and is nothing. One may avoid suffering and sorrow,

but one simply cannot learn, feel ... change ... grow ... love ... live. Chained by one’s certitudes, one is a slave,

that person has forfeited life. Only a person who risks ... is free.

The risks we take catch God's attention. We remember the widow who contributed two small coins worth a few cents. Jesus contrasted it with the flamboyant actions of those who gave out of their surpluses. What was it really that the widow gave that caught Jesus’s eye? The risk she took when she gave everything she had to live on. Did you know that prayer is an act of great love, like the offering of the widow? What makes prayer the most loving act? It depends on what you are giving up, e.g., we give time, resources, and ourselves praying for personal petitions or for others. But let us not fall into the trap again of praying as a form of repaying God or, worse, using prayer to make God present. Prayer does not “make” God present. Prayer is not work. It is a response to God's love. It is also a gift and privilege to pray because it is a way to give back after having received so much. Retreats are a luxury that people take; not all people can afford this, but people risk so much because after pondering how God loved us first with infinite love, we go back to Him to say thank you.

The third and final point is that God’s love is not transactional. God doesn't love us because of what we do. God loves us because of who God is. St Thérèse of Lisieux writes in her autobiography, “There is a science about which [God] knows nothing—addition!” The risks we take catch God's attention. Yes. But there is nothing we can do to cause God to love us more, and there is nothing we can do to cause God to love us less. Fr Richard Rohr gives his own take on what St Thérèse must have meant. I quote, “[O]nce we dive into infinity, which is God, any notion of adding, subtracting, meriting, losing, being worthy, is all a waste of time. God's love is infinite, a concept the human mind cannot form. The divine notion of perfection isn't the exclusion of imperfection but the inclusion of imperfection. That's divine love.”

No wonder Jesus always says, “Do not be afraid. It is I.” God is a God of his word. He says it is I; he even takes the greatest risk of giving us his all so that nothing can come between us. There is one enemy of spiritual life that is left, and that is discouragement. You will be tempted to be discouraged at times when you face your imperfections and limitations. That is what we call desolation. It is normal to be in desolation. You will profit from it. But do not fall into discouragement. We learned this from St Thérèse, who did not have an easy life. Thérèse had scruples and fears and a crippling sensitivity that made it seem a normal life might not even be possible for her. She once made a resolution. “I will never grow discouraged.” This protected her sad and sensitive nature from becoming even worse. Remember, I am with you always, not only until the end of the 30 days but until the end of the age. There is nothing you can do stop me from loving you this much; It is I, that is my nature. Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ