When I wrote the following last week, it was intended for a different audience, and my plan was to adapt a second piece specifically about love and Catholic schools. Based on Friday’s events, however, I feel the need to share this piece now to highlight the love imperative, and then follow it up with an additional post about the importance of Catholic schools in bringing more love into the world. Noting what has occurred, it might be prudent to rewrite portions of this, but here it is as is. I'm no expert on love, so please feel free to respond to me directly at jhausman@arrupevirtual.org should you wish to share your thoughts.
Throughout history, humanity has demonstrated a stubbornly consistent propensity to hate our neighbors - whether it’s the Hatfields and McCoys, the sports programs of rival schools, far left Democrats and far right Republicans, or neighboring nations. This likely emanates at least partially from our innate survival instincts which signal us to be wary of others outside our trusted clan. Part of it too is likely a learned response - sort of the “once bitten twice shy” phenomenon. Whether we’re an individual walking down an unfamiliar street at night or a nation responding to a global conflict, we are only partially in control of our feelings and our relationship to our previous experiences. Regrettably, some level of hate/intolerance is difficult to avoid.
However, there are points in time when hatred and the vitriol that accompanies it reach heightened levels, and it feels as though we are enduring one of those periods. Even when we’re on our best behavior, there seems to be a level of hostility sitting just beneath the surface that is ready to be activated by the slightest of triggers. A factor in this was the rise of cancel culture where militant inclusivity led to rampant exclusivity, and the concept of the “microaggression” produced an irrational imbalance in the negotiation of communal living. This and other factors have led to a cycle of one-upmanship in which the offended becomes the offender. The low bar of tolerance doesn’t even register as an acceptable response. This is the state of our nation and world as we enter a new and unsettled era marked by a second presidential term for Team Trump.
Mass deportation and dismantling of USAID have been some of the earliest action items of the current administration. Facing potential headwinds to particularly controversial practices, J.D. Vance (like MANY, MANY politicians before him) has recently referenced a religious principle to establish moral grounding for their current course of action. In this particular instance, he builds a case around the Catholic principle of ordo amoris - rightly ordered love. Many have been critical of his use of this principle while others have come to his defense. For me, this discourse misses the mark in that it focuses on how we order love rather than considering the fundamental question, “How do we love?”
Love is one of those unique words that can be either a noun or a verb. The Ancient Greeks established a framework for considering love as a noun. Within this framework, agape is considered the highest form of love and it is a pillar of Christian faith. It is also the most difficult to practice as it requires kindness, patience, empathy, selflessness, and sacrifice. When sin enters our lives, it is often manifest in an absence of agape.
As a verb, love can be either transactional or relational. Transactional love is about the things we do. Based on the various love types, we are presented with opportunities to demonstrate attraction/desire/commitment/care/compassion, and we choose appropriate actions to exhibit our love accordingly. Regarding agape, the corporal works of mercy are the preeminent example of Christian transactional love. Because our actions are bound by time, place, circumstance, and capacity, transactional love has its limits and, thus, ordo amoris could provide a means for ordering and choosing between honorable acts.
Relational love is love through encounter. It is recognizing the inherent dignity and worth of the other, and desiring the best for them. What makes this form of love a verb is that it involves seeing, hearing, and affirming. What it doesn’t require is an action plan - just a disposition. This is the more expansive form of love, and because relational love is truly boundless, ordo amoris has no bearing.
Unfortunately however, in spite of its abundant capacity, in recent years relational love has been in conspicuously short supply in most all of our encounters as individuals and collectives. This is the love that is missing from the current national discourse on immigration, deportation, foreign aid, and a whole host of other issues on national and local levels.
I’m not here to debate immigration and deportation policy. All nations must struggle to determine how best to serve those within their borders, balancing the needs of its citizenry while also being a part of the world economy. Immigrants play an important role. They can also put a strain on resources. It is the government’s obligation to establish and enforce reasoned laws and policies to address current-day realities for the health and wealth of its people, including its immigrant population. Since what’s at stake is both humanitarian and economic, it is most certainly among the thorniest issues, and, regrettably, one with no clear path.
By referencing ordo amoris, Mr. Vance attempts to neatly catalog our responsibilities to an oversized problem that has outstripped our capacity to care. For me, this thinking is incomplete in so much as it assumes that both our capacity to care and our resources have finite upper limits. While this is certainly true of the latter, there is no limit to love. I remember as a young husband and father feeling sorry for my first child during the period of my wife’s second pregnancy. I loved my first so completely; it felt inconceivable to have to share that love with another child. That all changed the moment I held my second child for the first time. That’s the moment I truly comprehended the concept of abundance. We are in awe of God’s grandeur. Noting that God is love, we should be equally in awe of the limitless grandeur of love.
Policy decisions aside, what is bothering me is the nature of our discourse, whether it be about immigration or any other issue being debated in the public square. Not only have we closed our ears to the cry of the poor (see Proverbs 21), we have actively demonized, maligned, and discounted others to rationalize our actions. How have we allowed ourselves to get to this place? Is common decency, respect, and tolerance really that high of a bar? Is it really ok to refer to others as a “basket of deplorables” (Hillary Clinton), or “animals”, “not human”, and “snakes that bite” (Donald Trump)?
Certainly, evil exists in our world, and there are individuals and networks of people intent on perpetrating harm. Vigilance in this regard is important. Most people, however, are not evil, and they shouldn’t be defined as such simply because they don’t think or act a certain way. You can’t use such disparaging language and expect others to not be offended and spiteful. We need to do better.
Regarding our government and its officials, some may ask if it’s appropriate to expect them to factor agape-love into their decision making. My response would be that if “In God We Trust” is to be taken seriously as our national motto, then, yes, treating others with dignity and respect should be the expectation. And, no, this is not antithetical to placing limits and restrictions on government programs and spending. Politics is messy, but neither Democrats nor Republicans hold the deed to the American ideal. A bit of humility and grace is certainly in order.
One last thing. As C.S. Lewis suggests in the following passage, the paradox of relational love is that while there are no transactional strings attached, it involves the greatest commitment, risk, and emotional bandwidth. While playing it safe and choosing NOT to love may seem like a prudent choice, it has its own perils, so why not go big and dare to love?
There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman, AVLI President
vol 7 issue 4