Embodying Divine Love
The Tears of Things
Learning to love as God loves is not an easy path, nor is it one that caters to our desire for comfort or control. It is a path that demands the surrender of our illusions, the undoing of our attachments, and the unmasking of the idols we have placed between ourselves and the living reality of divine love (Exodus 20:3-5; 1 John 5:21). “Idolatry occurs whenever we allow an image, belief, or attachment to take the place of the boundless, living reality of divine love.” [1] We are often unaware of how deeply we cling to these distortions, mistaking them for truth. We create a God in our own image, one that serves our fears and preferences rather than one that invites us into transformation (Romans 1:21-23). We cannot learn to love as God loves if we insist on keeping a love that is small, predictable, and confined within the limits of our own understanding. Love, if it is truly divine, must be vast, boundless, and alive (Ephesians 3:17-19).
The human heart struggles with this vastness. We prefer what is certain, what is manageable, what fits neatly into our grasp (Proverbs 3:5-6). But “the human heart clings to what it can define, but divine love is an ocean without shores.” [1] And so we resist, grasping at what we can name and control, fearing that if we let go, we will be left with nothing (Matthew 16:25). But God’s love does not diminish when we surrender our grasp—it expands (Isaiah 55:8-9). The journey of learning to love as God loves requires us to loosen our hold on what we think love should be and allow ourselves to be drawn into something infinitely greater (1 Corinthians 2:9).
To walk this path is to awaken to the reality that love is not simply a personal or private matter; it is prophetic, demanding justice, demanding truth, demanding that we live beyond ourselves (Micah 6:8). “Love that does not demand justice is not love, but self-preservation.” [1] Too often, love is reduced to something passive, a warm feeling, a fleeting sentiment that requires nothing of us. But divine love is not passive—it is disruptive (Luke 4:18-19). It turns over tables, it challenges systems, it stands in solidarity with the oppressed (John 2:13-16). It refuses to be complicit in anything that dehumanizes, exploits, or excludes (Isaiah 1:17). The love of God does not permit us to remain comfortable while others suffer. It calls us to see, to act, and to risk ourselves for the sake of a greater wholeness (James 2:14-17).
Yet, many resist this call because it feels too costly. They want a love that affirms them without asking them to change (Luke 9:23-24). But “love that leaves us unchanged is not love, but sentimentality.” [1] Divine love does not stroke the ego or allow us to remain as we are. It stretches, refines, and calls us into the fullness of who we are meant to be (Romans 12:2). To love as God loves is to allow ourselves to be changed by love—to be stripped of our selfishness, our self-protection, and our illusions of superiority (Philippians 2:3-4). It is to be remade in the image of love itself. And that remaking is rarely gentle. It is a fire, a death and rebirth, a surrender to something deeper than the self (2 Corinthians 5:17).
But many do not wish to surrender. They prefer a love that serves their interests, that gives but expects something in return (Luke 6:32-35). “If love is given only when it is safe or convenient, it is not love but an arrangement.” [1] Too often, what we call love is merely an exchange—a calculated offering that ensures we receive something in return (Matthew 5:46-48). But divine love does not function this way. It does not measure, does not bargain, does not withhold itself based on conditions (Romans 5:8). It gives, freely and without hesitation, because that is its nature (1 John 4:7-10). To love as God loves is to enter into this kind of radical generosity, to give not because it is deserved but because love itself is the only true response to existence (Matthew 10:8).
And yet, the ego resists. It seeks control, it seeks recognition, it seeks to possess (Galatians 5:17). “When love serves the ego, it ceases to be love and becomes possession.” [1] Many claim to love, but their love is a form of control, a means of keeping others bound to their own needs and expectations (1 Corinthians 13:4-5). But God’s love is not possessive. It does not seek to control but to free (2 Corinthians 3:17). It does not seek to own but to bless. To love as God loves is to release the need for control, to trust in love’s movement, and to let go of the desire to shape it according to our own preferences (Isaiah 64:8).
This surrender is terrifying for the ego, which equates giving up control with loss (Mark 8:34-35). “Love asks us to step beyond ourselves, but the ego resists, fearing that surrender is loss.” [1] And so we hesitate, clinging to what is familiar, fearing that if we give too much, if we love too freely, we will somehow disappear (John 12:24-25). But divine love does not erase us—it fulfills us (1 John 3:1-2). It does not diminish who we are; it reveals who we truly are (Romans 8:16-17). The self that emerges through love is not the small, fearful self we have protected but the vast and limitless being we were created to be (Ephesians 4:22-24).
In this surrender, love becomes not something we give or receive, but something we are (1 John 4:16). “When the self is emptied, love can finally fill it.” [1] When we cease grasping, cease striving, cease trying to control, love moves through us in ways we could never have imagined (2 Corinthians 12:9). We are no longer the ones trying to manufacture love—we are the vessels through which love itself flows (John 7:38). We no longer love with our own limited capacity but with the infinite abundance of divine love (Romans 5:5).
And this love is always relational. It does not exist in isolation, does not remain self-contained (1 Corinthians 12:25-26). “God’s love is never isolated; it always reaches toward the other.” [1] To love as God loves is to move beyond the self, beyond personal preference, beyond the limits of individual concern (Philippians 2:1-2). It is to recognize that love is always seeking connection, always seeking the well-being of the whole (John 13:34-35). The more we align ourselves with divine love, the more we are drawn into deeper relationship—not just with those who are easy to love, but with all of creation (Matthew 5:43-45).
But this is perhaps the greatest challenge: to see the sacred in those who do not yet see it in themselves (Genesis 1:27). “Divine love sees beyond the illusions of separation and calls forth the sacred in the other.” [1] It is easy to love those who love us. It is far harder to love those who have harmed us, those who live in fear and ignorance, those who do not yet know who they are (Luke 6:27-28). Yet, this is precisely what divine love does. It does not wait for people to become worthy—it sees them as worthy already (Romans 8:38-39). It does not wait for people to change—it loves them into transformation (2 Corinthians 3:18).
To love as God loves is not a sentimental ideal. It is a radical, demanding, and often costly way of being (John 15:12-13). It requires the dismantling of idols, the surrender of ego, and the willingness to step beyond ourselves into the boundless mystery of love itself (1 John 4:11-12). It asks us to let go of fear, to release control, to give without measure, to seek justice, to embrace transformation, and to see the sacred in all things (Colossians 3:14). This is not an easy path, but it is the only path that leads to life (John 10:10).
[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things