Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Our Failure to Love


I’m a quote reader. I read several apps of daily quotes from various individuals, I write my own weekly quotes, and I even have an ongoing document of all of my favorites. Over 30 pages.  All that to say, I breathe in and breathe out words. But I have been particularly moved by these:

Every sin is a result of a failure to love.
-St. Augustine.

I’ve been moved by this idea of loving one’s neighbor since I left Uganda just short of a year ago. Uganda showed me that changing the world was through small acts of love and kindness in community, not necessarily large-scale revivals. I’ve become more convinced of this since retuning to the United States.

My first thought when reading this quote was, “Well, is it every sin? And what do you define as sin? Doesn’t that depend on worldview? And failure? How do you define that?” As I dissected and dissected the combination of these few words, I had to catch myself.  Why do I resort to this legalism? Just stop. Take it for what it is. Okay. So when I think about the “sins” or “wrong-doings” I have either committed in my heart or in action, they are rooted in my shortcoming to love either another person or myself, sometimes both.

I humbly admit that being in a relationship tends to draw this awareness out in a way that feels like nails on a chalkboard. At no other time in my life have I been so aware of how my selfishness, lack of love, has infiltrated another human being. By me not stepping into his shoes and seeing his perspective, I fail to love him for who he is at that very moment.

When a young woman chooses to harm herself by cutting and making herself throw up, she is failing to love herself, in spite of what may have happened to her in the past. When the father of four repeatedly chooses drunkenness (mindlessness) over talking out the problems he has with his wife, he is failing to love his family. When the high school student walks in a school and takes the lives of his fellow classmates, he is failing to love his community. When a group of people decide they are god by murdering thousands of people in another country, they are failing to love their world.  And when the person gets upset and reacts in violence against the man that took away his family, he is committing the same audacity that was bestowed upon himself, failing to love another human being.

I am not proposing we sit back and be “okay” with wrongdoing, I think that’s quite the opposite.  But please don’t forget that hate doesn’t cast out hate, love does that. I used to think that only the gentle, kindhearted, sweet old ladies could be good at loving. What about the strong-willed, opinionated, passionately driven young woman over here? The truth is that my expression of love just looks a little different from theirs. And that's okay. I have to ask myself, "What does loving look like for a healthy Ali?"


This is by far the most difficult task of our time: to replace hate with love. It’s not easy because we must put the other in front of the self, acting against our innate desire to get what we want. I know this personally, as someone who battles selfishness, bitterness, and hate. But I really do believe that in the end we will want to look back at our lives as being a person who was incredibly daring to love the other at any cost.