Love Without a Calculator
Sometimes we think the battle for faith happens in the street, at work, or on social media; but there is a front that few people name, and it is the most demanding of all: the one in the sheets, the silences, and the intimacy of marriage.
We live in a culture that is terrified of total commitment. The world says it without shame: “secure your comfort,” “enjoy yourselves first,” “travel, and please shut down that baby factory quickly!” What they sell us is a marriage of contract, with escape clauses and love measured with a calculator. In that context, Saint Josemaría Escrivá gives us a necessary shake: “You were not made for comfort, but for greatness.” That greatness—the greatness of spouses—does not fit in half‑measures.
Talking about marital morality makes people uncomfortable. While we know this, we feel it is urgent that we talk about it, and we would rather tell you ourselves than stay silent out of fear of the reaction. Saint John Paul II, through his Theology of the Body, revealed something both beautiful and demanding: the body has its own language. The conjugal act is not a release or an instinct that must simply be managed. It is the moment when spouses say to each other with their whole bodies: “I give myself to you completely, and I receive you without reservation.”
Here is where we must be honest before God: what happens when we place conditions on the gift of our whole selves? When culture convinces us to use artificial methods to avoid life, we are not just making a practical decision—we are falsifying the language of love. We are telling the other person: “I give you everything… except this.” The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches with crystal clarity that the unitive and procreative meanings of the conjugal act are inseparable (CCC 2366). To deliberately separate them is to use one another, and that breaks the charity that should reign in the home.
Yet, be careful, because here comes the other side of the river. The Church’s teaching about openness to life does not mean Catholics must be imprudent. The Church is a mother, and as such she understands that there can be serious reasons—health, economic, or family reasons—to space children. For that reason, there are natural family planning methods: methods that respect the nature of the act, that do not block what God designed, but instead, harmonize with its rhythms. The difference is not small. It is the difference between speaking a truth and telling a lie.
At this point, the heart must also be examined. One thing is discerning with God when and how to welcome life; something very different is having already decided that you will not welcome life. That is not Catholic virtue—it is selfishness with better marketing. Deep down, what that mentality steals from us is the greatest thing: the joy of discovering that each child who arrives is not a burden but an expansion of the heart, an arrow that God places in our hands to send into the world. Psalm 127 sings it powerfully: “Children are a heritage from the Lord… like arrows in the hands of a warrior.” Arrows are not stored away. They are launched, and God, who sends us into battle, does not send His warriors unarmed.
We say this from the real exhaustion of having three children at home: sometimes the strength simply runs out. There are nights when generosity costs more than we would like to admit, but looking at that full cradle reminds us that holiness is not a comfortable life, but a life emptied of selfishness. We are not saints—we fall often—but the goal is clear: a home where God reigns, where love is not negotiated, and where God’s providence carries more weight than our plans.
Tonight, when the house falls silent and the routine quiets down, we invite you to look into each other’s eyes—not to have a grand theological conversation—but to ask yourselves one simple question: Are we loving each other without reservation, or with a calculator? The answer to that question is the beginning—or the renewal—of a love that is not negotiated.
Holy Mary, Mother of the family, pray for us.
Juan and Sofia were born into Catholic families in Colombia, South America. They met on Juan’s Patron Saint Feast Day, Saint John Bosco, January 31st and recently got married on the 31st of July. Both have encountered Jesus in their lives and decided to follow him with great commitment.
Juan is a Political Scientist and also a great golfer. He works in the Wine and Spirits Industry.
Sofia is a commercial real estate lawyer and works at her family-owned business. They currently live in Cali, Colombia.
Juan and Sofia are increasingly passionate about the apostolic mission with the youth and young professionals. They are committed to showing the love of God and his mysteries through the beauty of the sacrament of marriage and friendship. Both have lived their conversion through different spiritualities within the Church, such as the charismatic renewal, parish groups (Emaus and Effeta), Mana (a self-founded apostolic group) and Opus Dei. This last one is currently where both congregate and receive all their spiritual formation and guidance. Although they have much to learn, they are eager to share their testimony with all the readers.
