Lesson from a Magazine Filler

In an old issue of Kerygma (Oct. 2000, page 5) magazine, I came across a short filler quoting the “stages of love” by Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153), a most notable medieval monk honored today by both Protestants and Catholics. In one of his writings he describes in detail the four degrees of the Christian’s love. They are: “1) Man loves himself for his own sake. 2) Man loves God but for his own advantage. 3) Man loves God for God’s sake. 4) Man loves himself for the sake of God.”

I always enjoy studying the various theories of love in general, and the analysis of its stages, and see how it applies to my life and in the lives of others. The most famous one is written by a pagan philosopher centuries before Christ. His classic stages or types of love, from erotic to agape, have been used by behavioral scientists for ages, including theologians like Pope Benedict XVI whose first encyclical is entitled, “God is Love.”

There is no scarcity of writings on the topic of love in general. But when I see something written by a Saint specifically on “Christian love,” I pay a special attention to it. Since I have no way of immediately checking the original source of the quoted summary of St. Bernard’s stages of Christian love, I cannot comment on it with justice. However just looking at the statements at face value, I already find myself agreeing with him except for his order and some possible needed modifications. First, I’d rather make his no. 3 stage, no. 4, and vice-versa. Then modify the second. Let me explain why and how.

The first stage of love whether one is explicitly Christian or not is indeed ego-centered. Self-love is survival of self, a natural instinct found in every creature from the mineral kingdom to the angelic. One begins loving oneself first for his own sake. You can see this in the sunflower turning to the sun “instinctively” or in the amoeba multiplying itself for survival, or in a child guarding his toys, or in an adult amassing wealth for security in old age. The instinct for self-preservation is as natural as breathing. It is not learned or acquired. It is planted there by God.

The second stage of St. Bernard, namely, “Loving God for the advantage of man” for me is a bit premature. I would include fellowmen first in that stage and “bracket” God temporarily, without necessarily denying that exceptional human beings may have an infused knowledge of God and therefore can love Him. You see, we cannot genuinely love someone we do not really know. We may be able to like or love a person we never met before, but we love only the image or picture of that lovable person. One can develop “love” in an internet chat, but that for me is not yet real or incarnated love. Since we do not see God who is pure spirit, nor have any clear picture or image of Him, to love him for our sakes is a big jump. For me therefore, this second stage needs development.

For me also, the second stage of love is only a further development of the first. I need to include others in my ambit of loving in order to continue to survive. I have to share my goods with others who have none to prevent them from stealing from me. My continued survival depends also on others’ survival. When I clean my own backyard I should not throw my garbage to my neighbor’s because my neighbor might also throw his garbage to me. We need to cooperate. I don’t think we can already call this the “love of compassion” even if it includes others. But again in my opinion perfect altruism remains an ideal until it might be realized before death. Altruistic love doesn’t come naturally or easily. God’s grace is always needed and there is also room for man’s grace-impelled intervention or even serendipity which is actually divine providence and mercy.

In revising St. Bernard’s no. 4 stage by putting it in no. 3, I also modify it this way. The third stage for me is to love self, others and God for the sake of self. Recently, I came across a quotation from Mother Teresa’s writing, (now Blessed Teresa). It’s rather lengthy but it’s worth quoting to explain St. Bernard’s point. Blessed Teresa wrote:

“People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered; but love them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; but be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway. If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway. What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; be happy anyway. The good you do today, people will forget tomorrow; do good anyway. Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; give the world the best you’ve got anyway. You see in the final analysis, it’s between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”

The last sentence of Mother Teresa clearly drives home the point that our happiness (that means our salvation), without denying its social dimension simply because it comes from Christ, is, in the end, a “me-and-God” affair. When I fed the hungry, visited the sick and the imprisoned, it was Him I visited. And it was I who went out of my way to do what I thought was right despite other people’s objections and derision. When I clothed the naked and did what was right and just for my neighbor even without knowing I was doing it for Christ, de facto I was doing it to him. What will be a surprise to all in the end, Jesus already revealed to us. But for me this is only the third stage of love. We love self, others and God for our own sake. And this may be enough for salvation for those who never met Christ personally in their life. Not perhaps for you and me.

For me, a Christian Catholic, and a recipient of innumerable graces, my happiness might demand further requirements. And this demand is simply stated in what Jesus said: “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” God’s perfection is our model. Christ called us to absolute, unconditional and perfect love. Is this possible? Why not? Let us not underestimate the God-given capacity of man in his vocation to greatness. If he could walk on the moon and drop a vehicle on Mars, why can’t he simply be what God intended him to be – to be as perfect as He is, to do his will as it is done in heaven.

But what does it mean to be perfect? For me to be perfect is to be able to love as Jesus loved – to love till the end. For me and for many others, this is not impossible, because many have already done this before. Any one who finally goes to heaven has learned to love perfectly. In the vision of John, the Seer of Patmos, there are countless of them – men and women all dressed in white – who have washed their robes white in the blood of the Lamb. These are martyrs who suffered persecution for Christ. But the problem is that most of us think that we do not have the stuff martyrs are made of. But again, let us not negatively presume too much. Are we so powerful as to limit the power of God?

Jesus says that “there is no love greater than this – to give one’s life for his friends.” And naturally, the giving of one’s life takes place before death, not after. And precisely those about to die can truly become martyrs, because they can give their lives before their death. Cancer patients are like common martyrs who belong to this group of “perfect lovers.” People who are terminally ill have the chance of becoming perfect lovers, when they offer their pain for others, uniting their extreme suffering to Christ on the Cross. They actually share in his passion, death and resurrection. They can die like that dying convict at Jesus’ side who received paradise before the end of that first Good Friday.

The lesson I learned in my 60s is that those with terminal illness or anybody at the threshold of death have an opportunity to die like a martyr. They can lay down their lives for others. And those who care for them also share in the same special grace of martyrdom. For this same reason mothers of death-row-prisoners also have a chance to imitate Mary at the foot of the Cross. Nobody is outside the ambit of God’s special grace of martyrdom! We are God’s beloved, and because of His love, we can love Him as perfectly as He deserves.

“The devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus goes right into the heart of God. It spells out all the promises that can inspire hope even in the most hopeless of cases.”