how to love God

“So what do you think?” I ask my kids as we eat lunch on the back patio. “Do you love God with all your heart, all your mind and all your soul?” They both answer without hesitation. Rowan says yes. Noah says no.

“Why not?” I ask Noah. “What’s getting in the way?” He thinks for a minute, chewing thoughtfully on a slice of nectarine. “Well, I think it’s because God’s not right here, right in front of me. It’s much easier to love you and Daddy and Rowan. And Minecraft.” I laugh, because I know exactly what Noah means.

The very first time I read Jesus’ answer to the Pharisee’s question about which is the greatest commandment, I was relieved. “Is that it?” I thought. “Hey, no problem. I can love God.” Later, of course, reality set in. Love is hard – certainly hard enough with our real, live, flesh-and-blood family and friends, but even harder with our amorphous, intangible God.

The more I thought about that verse, the more challenging it became. What does it mean, for instance, to love God with our whole hearts, minds and souls? Like Rowan asked, “What is the soul, anyway? And how do you love with your soul?”

I think I’m pretty good at loving with my mind. I like to wrestle with Scripture and read theology. I like to dig into the Bible, pondering verses and trying to flesh meaning out of the layers. But heart and soul? I’m not so sure. I’m more pragmatic than emotional. I don’t tear up easily; I don’t profess love with abandon. Loving with my whole heart and soul feels a little too over-the-top.

A few months ago when I was writing the 50 Women book I was introduced to Hannah Whitall Smith. Hannah was a leader in the Methodist Holiness movement during the 1850s and ‘60s. A pragmatist like me, she struggled with the movement’s expectation that believers needed to experience an emotional connection with God in order to be fully sanctified. She often approached the altar call with a handful of Kleenex, trying desperately to will herself to tears. But the tears and the overwhelming emotional response never came.

“I am convinced that throughout the Bible the expressions concerning ‘heart’ do not mean emotions, that which we now understand by the word ‘heart,’ but they mean the will, the personality of the man; the man’s own central self,” Hannah later wrote. “It is not the feelings of the man God wants, but the man himself.” (from The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life)

Hannah’s decision to walk by faith, not feelings, was a turning point in her spiritual journey.

The longer I walk this path, the more I realize that there’s not a right or wrong way to love God. It’s not black-and-white. It’s not simple or easy, but neither does it necessarily need to be complicated. Like I told Noah that afternoon on the patio, we just do our best, and that’s good enough for God. Falling short doesn’t mean we flunk the first and greatest commandment, because God meets us exactly where we are. As Hannah said, God doesn’t necessarily want only our feelings. He wants our whole selves.

Questions for Reflection:
Do you love God with your whole heart, mind and soul? Which of those three areas is the most challenging for you?

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I’ve struggled to write about the verses from this week’s reading (Luke 7:36-50) twice now in the last few weeks (first, when I was writing a Lent devotion and now again today). I didn’t want to write about them; I felt like I had nothing to say. The story of the woman who perfumes and kisses Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair simply didn’t resonate with me. “I’m stumped,” I emailed my pastor, and while her reply about love and forgiveness helped, I found I still didn’t want to write about this particular story.

I finally figured out why.

The woman in the story makes me uncomfortable. Not because she’s a sinner, a “bad person,” an “immoral woman,” but because of the way she loves.

When I think about the prostitute who lavished attention on Jesus with her alabaster jar and her expensive perfume, her weeping and foot-kissing and hair wiping, I want to tell her to get ahold of herself, to get up off the floor, stop making a scene and act properly. Her dramatic display of adoration and affection makes me uncomfortable. It makes me uneasy because it’s so raw, such a pure, extravagant, over-the-top display.

As I read this story for the umpteenth time, I tried to imagine how I would react if I met Jesus in person. I suspect I’d offer him a cup of tea, maybe shake his hand, stammer that I admire his work. But would I throw myself at his feet? Would I pour my whole self into the moment, toss caution to the wind, disregard what anyone might think or say about me and simply love him with abandon?

Doubtful. I’d be too worried what people might think of me, the crazy lady with the perfume and the hair.

Like so many spiritual lessons, this one comes down to trust. The prostitute trusts Jesus enough to give herself entirely to him. Because she puts him first, nothing stands in her way: not others’ opinions, not her pride, not even her sins. Because she trusts Jesus, she has the courage to love with abandon. I think this might even be part of the reason the Pharisees reacted so harshly – they were uneasy with the woman’s exuberant, unadulterated display of pure love because they hadn’t allowed such love to be unleashed in themselves. They couldn’t imagine acting that way with Jesus. They didn’t trust God enough to let go.

I know there are innumerable ways to demonstrate our love for God. We can love quietly and contemplatively. We can love through service. We can love God through loving others, through sacrifice, through prayer, through thanksgiving. And while I know wild, unfettered love isn’t something God requires of me, I also know he presented this story to me not once, but twice, to illustrate that there’s still much room for me to grow. The kind of unabashed love demonstrated by the prostitute need not make me uncomfortable. It’s available to me, to all of us. But we need to trust in order to love.

Try to picture what it might be like to meet Jesus in person. How would you react? Would you lavish love on him like the woman in this story, or might you be more reserved? What, if anything, does that say about your trust in God and your faith?

Linking with Ann Voskamp’s Walk with Him Wednesday series…because is there anything more radical than learning to love?

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Welcome to the “Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday” community, a place where we share what we are hearing from God and his Word.

If you’re here for the first time, click here for more information. Please include the Hear It, Use It button (grab the code below) or a link in your post, so your readers know where to find the community if they want to join in — thank you!

Thank you — I am so grateful that you are here!

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Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: When You Fear You’ve Flunked the First Commandment

Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: Trusting to Love

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