You shall love your neighbor

What words would you use to describe your relationship with God?

It may seem like an odd question, but it is worth taking a few moments out of our routines to contemplate it.

So, what words express the connection of your present (non-) faith? Respect, ignorance, submission, adoration, searching, avoidance, discussion, evasion, praise… And love? Is it possible to love God?

If the answer is yes, what does it mean? How can we prevent ourselves from getting lost in illusion?

Jesus grew up in his community’s pious Jewish faith.

Twice a day, he recited the fundamental call of his people, the call that structured each day of all Israelites in his era: “Hear O Israel… You shall love the Lord your God.” But this is just one commandment in a total of 613.

Given this great number, the great religious teachers and leaders categorized the rules and arranged them in a hierarchy.

As such, the commandment about love for God has been arranged in proximity to another about loving one’s neighbor as oneself.

Jesus wasn’t the one to consolidate the tradition to a fundamental two-commandment basis, rather he received it and he based his path upon it.

The Gospel’s text speaks of a scribe, a man who belongs neither to the Pharisees nor to the Sadducees.

He copies texts in their entirety and, in doing so, finds himself grappling with the manifold interpretations of the word of the Bible. This was his job.

However, as a subject and son of God, what should he take from it all? There are two schools, one of which states that by following one law, one fulfills them all.

The other teaches the opposite: neglecting to adhere to one law amounts to breaking them all. This is where one uneasy man’s question comes in: where does Jesus stand in this debate? For Jesus, what is the first and most important commandment?

What is surprising in the text is the scribe’s formulation of Jesus’ response. He repeats what he understands in his own words: a sole commandment isn’t enough to express that which those engaged with God are called to. Two are needed.

The question of one’s neighbor remains a pressing issue. The texts of the Old Testament designate members of a common people, companions on the road, and friends. They speak of those we come across, who like us, have been called to stand up and be freed from the chains of misery, alienation, and poverty in all its forms.

The authors of the New Testament would go on to add an additional dimension to this: while those who live in our immediate vicinity need our attention, so too do those who come from afar. You can’t have one without the other.

We are loved. God is the first to reveal himself to us. His love for us is neither divided nor is it conditional. To respond without internal conflict is neither to do with moral law nor to do with gratitude. But the religious trap is still there.

Indeed, the first letter of John to his readers supports this: “Whoever claims to love God yet hates his brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.” (1 Jn 4:20)

Jesus doesn’t put either one of the commandments before the other. To say, “I love God” does not implicitly include the other, just as to say, “I love my neighbor” doesn’t encompass the Eternal.

Both have their own distinct realities. God remains beyond all. My experience of being loved is rooted in Him.

Therefore, my relationship with regards to the other is rooted in this love too; I become closer to my neighbor in order to give freely that which I receive through the mystery of the faith.