Why love is, in fact, the answer

Amidst all the chatter arising from a particularly volatile political atmosphere and a tense election campaign, and the apparently escalating civil unrest over the latest spate of police killings and subsequent retaliation, and the almost daily news stories of outrageous, senseless violence from all over the country, and the ongoing deadlock over gun control, I’ve been seeing a lot of comments on social media recently mocking so-called liberals for wanting to “love” our way out of the problems currently plaguing this nation and/or the world in general.

When you put it like that, yes, agreed, it does sound a little namby-pamby—an idealistic evasion by the weak and ineffectual that only serves to make us feel good about ourselves without taking responsibility for any of the hard work needed to bring about actual change. These problems are decidedly complex and urgent, and it’s understandable that many people feel angry, hopeless, or desperate to take action of some kind. We’ve seen quite a lot of desperate people taking desperate action lately, and naturally we want to protect ourselves from the more armed and dangerous elements. Love won’t save my family from a shooter with deadly intent, you might say! Love won’t defuse a terrorist’s bomb! And it’s true—despite the profusion of vague, uplifting memes out there, merely saying that we ought to stop fighting and simply love one another isn’t ever going to be enough to change anything.

Yes, we are all one people! Yes, we all have to share this one tiny, fragile planet hurtling through the vast emptiness of space towards our own inevitable end! Yes, we all want pretty much the same things—to live our lives with a degree of dignity and grace and the basic respect and human rights everyone deserves, to find fulfillment in work and love and family, etc., etc.! Yes, we are all more alike than we are different! Yes, we are all in this together!

But for some reason we seem to keep forgetting all that. It is also true that we’re each shaped by our experiences, and you cannot justly judge another person unless you can at least try to understand how they were and are shaped by theirs. And the only way to do that is with love.

The fact is, love is not simple, and it is not easy. It isn’t just about holding hands and singing Kumbaya until everybody lays down their weapons so we can all toast marshmallows together around the campfire. Nor does it mean simply “agreeing to disagree.” Anybody who has ever had children, or a partner or spouse, or parents, siblings, or friends, knows that love can be difficult and frustrating. It is often painful and sometimes disappointing. Other people, after all, tend to come equipped with wrong opinions and strange idiosyncrasies and thorny personalities and irritating habits and selfish deeds, right? Yet we keep loving them regardless, because what would our life be without them?

Moreover, with the click of a button anybody can now post, blog, tweet or otherwise splatter those infuriating opinions all over the internet for all to see (look, here’s one now!) and react to without having to take the time to think it through. So how do we end this all this divisiveness? How do we stop knee-jerk-reacting from a place of anger or fear or cynicism or ego and start loving our way to solidarity?

Love requires our attention, our time and our sincere effort. It demands patience and faith and commitment. It means that sometimes you disagree with a person you love, but you love them anyway. You many not like their opinions or the choices they make, but love means respecting their point of view even when it differs from your own, even when it would be easier to turn away. It means accepting them as they are without needing to change them or change their mind. It means frequent compromise, and occasional sacrifice. It means sometimes putting someone else’s needs ahead of your own. It means willingness to examine your own feelings and beliefs and behavior with brutal honesty. Most of all it means listening—really listening—to the other person, setting aside the demands of your own ego, until you can begin to imagine yourself in their place and understand why they feel and think and behave the way they do. That is far from an easy thing to do, especially when we’re stressed or fearful or hurt or angry, which usually leads us to erect protective walls around our hearts. Love means tearing those walls down and allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, and that requires tremendous strength. Love is not weakness; love is the opposite of weakness.

Hatred, on the other hand, is always driven by ego: I hate you because I don’t like something you did or said or believe; I hate you because you are in some way different from me; because I fear you will take something I have, or because you have something I want. All these attitudes privilege protection and maintenance of the “I” above all else, and at the expense of understanding.

Opening our hearts to the suffering of others is a courageous act. Sometimes we will get hurt. But our capacity for compassion is the only thing that will save us from our own worst tendencies—not by erasing or glossing over our differences, but by allowing those differences to bring us together rather than drive us apart. I know that some people will never be willing to try, but why should they be the ones to decide what this world is like for all of us? I’m not saying we all have to be best friends with each other, just that we can choose not to be enemies.

Love is the answer. I truly believe that. But hey, don’t take my word for it.