Love is the Answer

I’ve been thinking a lot about love lately. Not the Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks  Sleepless in Seattle kind but divine love. I’m reading a book by Richard Rohr called The Universal Christ. The book presents a “transformative view of Jesus Christ as a portrait of God’s constant unfolding  work in the world.” The book challenges me to recognize God’s presence in nature and in everyone I meet.

We are ‘in love’ when we move out of our puny individual shell and reach out to connect with another person in friendship or companionship, not just romantically. I’m not sure I get what he’s saying all the time, but this is what I do understand.

Love is a universal language. ‘’There is not a Native, Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish, or Christian way of loving.” We recognize the divine flow of love when we feel it. When we try to control God by thinking our Catholic, Methodist, Lutheran, etc. way is the right way, we are only applying labels and we’re missing the deeper meaning and the cosmic connection.

Have you ever been at a party and noticed the person standing alone in a corner who’s not particularly attractive and gone over to talk to that person? Rohr says that is a small but real example of divine love flowing. “Don’t dismiss it as insignificant,” he says.

On a sunny fall day, I went for a walk around my neighborhood and decided to put his theory to the test. We live across from Marquardt Village, a large senior living complex. Housing ranges from ranch type condos, to senior apartments, assisted living and a skilled care facility. There is a large low income building as well. I checked my Fit Bit. I needed 2500 steps to reach 5000, so I put on my athletic shoes and set off. If I encountered anyone on my walk, my goal was to send out that flow of love energy without expecting anything in return

Arms pumping with a brisk gait, the first woman that I met was obviously a power walker. She wore her performance leggings, Brooks trainers, and Under Armor warm-up jacket. Her oversize sun glasses radiated she was in it for the long haul. (And reminded me I forgot to put on my own sunglasses!)

I spoke first. “Hi. Nice day for a walk.” She grunted something in return and didn’t break her stride. She breezed past like a leaf in a wind storm.

The next lady cruising down a side street in her motorized wheel chair. She wore grey sweat pants and a light blue quilted jacket. No sunglasses but a pink baseball cap perched on her grey head shaded her eyes. Again I called out, “Hi. Nice day to be outside.”

“It’s finally fall,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for the cooler weather. I love seeing the trees change colors. Best of all, I don’t have to rake.” She chuckled as she gestured to her chair.

I paused to reply. “The sun is shining bright: it’s clear blue sky. Not a cloud n sight.  A perfect day for a walk.” My Fit Bit flashed a message—End exercise? Two thousand steps to go, so I ignored it and moved on. “Enjoy the sunshine.” I said over my shoulder.

The last leg of my journey took me past the rent subsidized building, easily the tallest structure in the complex at four stories. I gazed at the hill gauging how much energy it would take to do the final climb. A lone lady was sitting on the curb outside of the black top parking lot, smoking a cigarette. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail. Her legs were stretched out in front of her as she flicked the ashes into the gutter.

Even before I passed her, I sang out a greeting. She replied, “You have a Columbia jacket just like mine. I love mine. In fact I have two of them. I got them when I went on a trip to Nashville.”

My jacket was a Patagonia, but I figured all fleece jackets looked the same to her. I stopped to talk. “Yeah, I got mine for our vacation, too. I wore it a lot on our trip.”

“I got this other jacket from my mother when she died.” She designated a lined windbreaker she was wearing. “I liked to wear it because it still had her smell. I had to finally wash it but I still like to wear it. It’s like she’s wrapping her arms around me.”

She took a drag on the cigarette and blew out the smoke. Her eyebrows knit as she thought out loud. “Do you think it will be warm enough for winter?”

“If our winters are mild like last year’s was, you should be fine. When it gets below zero, you might have to wear something warmer.”

“I suppose I will. My name’s Nancy, by the way.”

“My name’s Jan. I live just up the hill. It was nice meeting you, Nancy,” I said.

Five hundred steps to go.  Home beckoned.

Rohr says, this is how the flow starts, even if it doesn’t change anyone’s life on the spot. Small steps add up.

In this time of fear, anger and division, I need the flow of divine love more than ever. In fact, I went home and read I Corinthians 13, the original source of divine love. Especially the part that reads, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.”

I wish I could say I’ve been transformed into a totally loving person all the time, but I occasionally have a ‘power outage’ and quarrel with Mike, or have unkind thoughts or say snarky words. “Failure is part of the deal,” writes Rohr. It makes me appreciate how much I depend on unearned divine love and need to try to do better.

So dear readers, this is my last newsletter for a while. I’m a terrible typist. I wish I had worked harder in high school but goofing off with my bestie was more fun than learning a keyboard. So I need to step away from my frustrations with the computer and recharge my energy. That’s why my final message to you is about love. All the quotes are from Richard Rohr’s book. Love and forgiveness may seem in short supply right now, but they are there inside you, waiting, if only you trust and allow them to flow outward.