#smallest steps

“This I command you: love one another.”

That’s how today’s Gospel ends, with this commandment from Jesus.

Think of all of the things that God has commanded throughout history. Things like building an ark, leaving everything and going somewhere you’ve never been, offering sacrifices, etc.

Next to them, “love one another” sounds pretty easy. Until you actually try to do it.

Because there are two people who are going to make this difficult, who are going to make it hard for us to love one another. The people we’re trying to love. And us.

The people we’re trying to love won’t make this easy. Because they’re people. And people do stupid, horrible, unloveable things. All. The Time.

And yet, we’re called to love them. Without exception. Not just when they make it easy, but without exception. Even when they’re at their most unloveable.

Which is something that you and I can never do (not for long) without God’s help. If we’re smart, we won’t even try to do it on our own.

But when it comes to loving one another, you and I are an even bigger problem. Mainly for two reasons.

First, because we don’t know where to start. It would be nice if Jesus gave us some details. Maybe even a plan. But no. We just get told to do it.  

That’s actually enough. Because we don’t need an elaborate program (“5 easy steps to loving one another”).

As St. Frances de Sales (today’s saint) tells us, “you learn to speak by speaking, to study by studying, to run by running, to work by working; and just so, you learn to love by loving. All those who think to learn in any other way deceive themselves.”

And there’s the other reason. Knowing that it’s going to be trial and error, knowing that we’re going to make mistakes learning how to love? That sets us up to “what-if” ourselves, to second guess ourselves, to endlessly critique our first faltering steps. To the point that we just stop even trying.

The reason this happens? It happens when I trust the least reliable person in the world to give me advice on how I’m doing. It happens when I listen to me, the one person who can never give me an objective perspective on me.

This is absolutely the wrong perspective for me. Why?

Because I didn’t command me to do this. God did.

Which means that I have no business judging the quality of my performance. God alone determines whether it’s good enough. God sets the standard.

Which sounds even worse, until you find out what God’s standard really is.

“God takes pleasure in your smallest steps. And like a good Father who holds His child by the hand, He will accommodate His steps to yours and will be content to go no faster than you. Why do you worry?” – St. Francis de Sales

“This I command you: love one another.”

That’s how today’s Gospel ends, with this commandment from Jesus.

Think of all of the things that God has commanded throughout history. Things like building an ark, leaving everything and going somewhere you’ve never been, offering sacrifices, etc.

Next to them, “love one another” sounds pretty easy. Until you actually try to do it.

Because there are two people who are going to make this difficult, who are going to make it hard for us to love one another. The people we’re trying to love. And us.

The people we’re trying to love won’t make this easy. Because they’re people. And people do stupid, horrible, unloveable things. All. The Time.

And yet, we’re called to love them. Without exception. Not just when they make it easy, but without exception. Even when they’re at their most unloveable.

Which is something that you and I can never do (not for long) without God’s help. If we’re smart, we won’t even try to do it on our own.

But when it comes to loving one another, you and I are an even bigger problem. Mainly for two reasons.

First, because we don’t know where to start. It would be nice if Jesus gave us some details. Maybe even a plan. But no. We just get told to do it.   

That’s actually enough. Because we don’t need an elaborate program (“5 easy steps to loving one another”).

As St. Frances de Sales (today’s saint) tells us, “you learn to speak by speaking, to study by studying, to run by running, to work by working; and just so, you learn to love by loving. All those who think to learn in any other way deceive themselves.”

And there’s the other reason. Knowing that it’s going to be trial and error, knowing that we’re going to make mistakes learning how to love? That sets us up to “what-if” ourselves, to second guess ourselves, to endlessly critique our first faltering steps. To the point that we just stop even trying.

The reason this happens? It happens when I trust the least reliable person in the world to give me advice on how I’m doing. It happens when I listen to me, the one person who can never give me an objective perspective on me.

This is absolutely the wrong perspective for me. Why?

Because I didn’t command me to do this. God did.

Which means that I have no business judging the quality of my performance. God alone determines whether it’s good enough. God sets the standard.

Which sounds even worse, until you find out what God’s standard really is.

“God takes pleasure in your smallest steps. And like a good Father who holds His child by the hand, He will accommodate His steps to yours and will be content to go no faster than you. Why do you worry?” – St. Francis de Sales