Boundless Love
When I was in college, a famous theologian came to speak. He was an accomplished man of letters. He taught at a seminary and had published many books. His scholarly accomplishments were unsurpassed.
When he was done speaking, there was a period for questions and answers. Someone in the audience asked: “From all your years of study, what is the most important lesson that you’ve learned.” He answered with the words of a child’s hymn: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong. They are weak and he is strong.” They were words of grace, simplicity, and innocence.
From the time we are children, we are taught that there are goals worthy of achieving, and that hard work is required to achieve them. Most of us live in a meritocracy, where people get ahead based on the quality of the work they perform. There is, of course, a place for that. Societies cannot function without people contributing their talents, whatever those talents may be. To secure those contributions, societies need to reward them, and the contributions that are most valued are often encouraged with the greatest rewards.
Jesus teaches that the Kingdom of God is different. God’s love makes no distinction based on merit. God loves us all equally, the most talented and the least talented, the rich and the poor, the scholar and the dropout. As Franciscan friar Richard Rohr said in a recorded lecture, “God does not love [us] because [we] are good, but because God is good.” That’s the meaning of the words of the child’s hymn. We are blessed not because we are strong, but because God is strong. There is nothing we need to do to gain God’s love. Our only job is to accept it.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus identified types of people who are blessed. They are not the high and mighty, the rich and famous, the strong and powerful (although they can be blessed too!). The people Jesus focused on are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted. God’s blessings flow to them all.
Jesus also said to let go of anger, to love our enemies, and to refrain from judging others. Those virtues are difficult to achieve yet indispensable to our faith. No amount of study, prayer, or worship can diminish the importance of getting them right. Yet each of them requires nothing more than letting go.
We live in a time when anger, hate, and judgment seem to be running rampant. Their voices fill our airwaves and are amplified by social media. Worst of all, they sometimes are promoted in the name of Christ.
We Catholics must not fuel these flames. We don’t need to agree on everything, and we know we never will. Even within a single family or parish there will be disagreements. Yet, we can still be peacemakers, calmly listening to others’ viewpoints, explaining our own, looking for areas of common ground, and trying to see the good in people with whom we disagree.
I am in a book group that recently read Richard Rohr’s book The Tears of Things. Rohr has had a long career as a writer and speaker. He has published many books and has told us this will be his last. So, I paid special attention to the book’s ending, what I assume he’d want us to remember as his final written words. His message was “that if it is love at all, it has to be love for everybody.” Or as Pope Francis told us, “todos, todos, todos!” (“everyone, everyone, everyone!”)
We are the little ones mentioned in the children’s song and Jesus’ love for every one of us knows no bounds.
Don Frederico is a writer and retired lawyer living in Mashpee, Massachusetts, where he serves as a Lector at Christ the King Parish. Before he retired, Don served on the boards of several nonprofits, including as President of the Boston Bar Association and Board Chair of the College of Wooster. Don also has taught courses at Cornell Law School and Boston College Law School. He authors the Substack “Reflections of a Boston Lawyer,” and hosts a podcast called “Higher Callings.” Don is currently writing a memoir focused on his life, his work, and his faith journey.
