Divine love is not simply an abstract idea or a distant force. In Hosea’s depiction, it is the closest, most intimate connection God desires with humanity. The metaphor of marriage speaks to a relationship that is mutual, filled with devotion and faithfulness. This love transcends power dynamics and embraces the deep, relational bond that God seeks to cultivate with us. It is not about rule-following or merely obeying laws but about betrothing you to myself with faithfulness, and you will come to know Yahweh (Hosea 2:19–20)—a commitment rooted in faith and deep connection. Here, we see love as the ultimate foundation of relationship with the Divine, an invitation to engage in an intimate and transformative bond. It is a love that speaks of deep knowing, beyond commands and into the essence of shared existence. This is the divine love that transcends the separation often imposed by external rituals and legalities.
Yet this love comes with the paradox of mercy, a mercy that is boundless and unmeasured. We are taught that God’s mercy is not something to be calculated or earned but something that freely flows into our lives, beyond what we could ever deserve. “Only mystics and those who pray from the heart escape this trap, it seems to me. They have met the infinite mercy and stopped counting, measuring, and weighing themselves and others.” [1] This is where the transformative power of mercy enters. Those who truly experience divine love no longer rely on the structures of counting, of balancing right and wrong. They no longer see the world through the lens of judgment but through the lens of grace. The mercy that they encounter with God is like a boundless ocean, infinite and overwhelming, washing away all the guilt, the measures, and the divisions that we so often impose upon ourselves. This mercy calls us to move beyond the systems of religion that seek to measure worth by actions, reminding us that divine mercy cannot be confined by any formula.
But this understanding of mercy and love challenges us to confront the traps we build with our need for control and certainty. The law, in its essence, provides a sense of security and order, yet it often misses the heart of God’s purpose. It creates a box where we can neatly measure what is “right” and what is “wrong,” but it cannot contain the fluidity of God’s love. “Forgiveness and mercy are just too fluid and messy—unearnable!” [1] God’s mercy doesn’t fit into the tidy boxes that our religious systems create. It is not something that can be controlled or earned by our efforts; rather, it is a messy, transformative force that cannot be manipulated. When we embrace this unearned mercy, we let go of the need to calculate whether we are worthy of forgiveness or whether others are worthy of our mercy. Instead, we are invited to dive into a realm where mercy flows freely and endlessly, beyond our capacity to control or understand.
The prophets understand this deep tension between law and love, and their message carries the weight of love and justice in a world that often prefers neat boundaries and rules. They stand as witnesses to a more radical vision of transformation, one that challenges the conventions of religion and society. “A minority within a minority, they taught the refined and actual message of love of God and neighbor as one, which is full religious transformation.” [1] The prophets were not speaking from a place of power or comfort; they were outliers, voices that dared to speak truth to power when it was most needed. They insisted that the love of God was inseparable from the love of neighbor, that one could not exist without the other. The love they preached was not easy, nor was it socially acceptable. But it was the love that would lead to full transformation—both spiritual and societal. The message of the prophets invites us to leave behind the safety of societal norms and embrace the dangerous, transformative power of love.
At the heart of this transformation is the change from external observance to internal renewal. The prophets understood that the rituals and laws were insufficient if they were not backed by a change of heart. “In the presence of divine love, your cautions and warnings all fall away as unnecessary and unhelpful.” [1] When we stand in the presence of divine love, there is no need to hold ourselves back, to guard against vulnerability. The protective measures that we have built in our lives to avoid pain or failure are no longer necessary. In divine love, we are invited to surrender our need to control and allow our hearts to be softened, transformed, and made new. It is through this vulnerability, this willingness to let go of our guards, that we experience true spiritual renewal. The divine call is not to a religion of external rules but to an internal transformation that shapes how we live and love.
Yet, despite this call to vulnerability and transformation, the prophetic voice remains a minority voice in a world that values conformity. The prophets are not just another group within society; they represent a critical minority—one that often goes unnoticed, overlooked, and even oppressed. “They are not just a critical minority, but a largely hidden critical minority—the remnant and a critical mass, which we are all and always invited to join and protect.” [1] This minority is the living embodiment of God’s radical love in a world that prefers comfort and safety. It is the remnant of those who refuse to compromise on love, justice, and mercy, no matter the cost. As we are invited into this hidden minority, we are called to protect and uphold its message of transformation. We cannot afford to ignore this voice or dismiss it; it is the voice that carries the true essence of the divine message. To join the prophetic remnant is to align ourselves with the core of God’s radical love, justice, and mercy.
Divine love calls us to embrace vulnerability, surrendering our need to control, and instead, opening ourselves to the transformative force of love. This surrender is not an act of weakness but an invitation into deeper intimacy with God. In embracing divine love, we are invited into the messy, unpredictable flow of mercy that defies calculation and defies external control. “Forgiveness and mercy are just too fluid and messy—unearnable!” [1] We are called to step into this divine flow, where love cannot be contained by formulas or expectations but must be freely given and received. This fluidity is what allows us to break down the walls that separate us from each other and from the divine. It is through this radical vulnerability that we are transformed, moved beyond the constraints of religious ritual and into a living, breathing relationship with the Divine.
At the heart of it all, love remains the central commandment. Love is not simply a nice sentiment; it is the core of spiritual transformation. It is the thread that weaves together all the teachings, all the prophets, all the mystics, and all the great traditions. The love of God is inseparable from the love of neighbor, and it is in living this love that we experience the fullness of spiritual life. This commandment is not a burden but a freeing call to live a life that reflects the radical, transformative love of the Divine, a love that calls us to action and to change, both within ourselves and in the world around us. When we embrace love fully, we participate in the divine work of transformation, and in doing so, we become instruments of peace, justice, and healing.
[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things