Here’s a Love Song
Creazione di Adamo, Michelangelo (1512)
Happy February! This month, we continue exploring the question: What does it mean to be human? And in the spirit of one of this month’s major holidays, we’ll approach this question through the lens of relationships. (By the way, Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!)
It’s often said that “humans are social creatures.” From a Christian perspective, this idea is reflected in the belief that we were created for relationships—both with God and with one another. How do we know this? The opening pages of the Bible offer some important clues.
THE “MUSIC” SINGS OF RELATIONSHIPS
In Genesis 1–2, when we consider the literary design of the text–in our case, paying particular attention to the repetition of God’s response to his created world–it reveals immense insight. In a recurring pattern, the narrative portrays the sequence of God creating, followed by the narration that God saw that it was “good.” The fact that this refrain occurs a total of 7 times (though, interestingly, not after each day) is far from accidental. The author seems to have employed this repetition quite intentionally to serve the purpose of embedding a familiar melody and rhythm in the readers’ minds for an effect that gets realized in a later section. One of the reasons for doing this is to communicate key points by first lulling the readers (or listeners) with a familiar pattern, and then breaking that pattern in decisive moments. Essentially, the text employs a sudden break in order to evoke surprise. And the element of surprise serves the function of heightening our attention to tend to the message that the text is trying to spotlight. The two passages that illustrate this are Genesis 1:31 and 2:18:
“And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good.” (Gn. 1:31)
“It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.” (Gn. 2:18)
(Emphases are mine)
After hearing a series of repetitions—“And God saw that it was good”—it’s hard to miss these variations. A helpful analogy might be hearing a sequence of somber minor chords that suddenly shift to a hopeful major chord. Hard to miss, if you ask me! Another example might be our familiarity with the pairing of cereal and milk, and suddenly receiving a bowl of cereal and Gatorade (blasphemy! And equally–if not more–difficult to miss!). In any of these cases, even the slightest alteration captivates our attention. Given that we tended to these sudden twists in the text, two observations immediately jump out from them.
The first is the unique association between God and mankind compared to God’s association with everything else he made. After God created man, the narrator reports that God saw all that he made, and unlike his previous responses to the rest of creation, this time he offers an elevated recognition by describing it with the adverbial intensifier “very good.” It is conspicuous that this variation appears after the creation of mankind. And even if one were to disagree with this reading and instead, understand God’s dignified response as applying to the overall completion of the world, rather than mankind specifically, God’s unique act of creating mankind in his own image–which we do not find as a descriptor for any other creation–provides reasonable grounds to acknowledge a level of significance for the relationship between God and people. What we see here, then, is man’s relationship with the divine coming to the fore.
The second observation to note is the importance of man’s relationship with other humans. God’s response to Adam being alone and describing this as being “not good,” signals for attention. Here too, the interplay between repetition (“God saw that it was good”) and variation (“It is not good”) impresses surprise that underscores the importance of human relationships. The literary design of the opening pages of the Bible show the importance of human relationships with God and others.
COOL STORY. BUT WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?
It’s fancy and fascinating, but we still run into the question of what a relationship is. What exactly constitutes a relationship? What should our relationship with God and others look like? Does living in a relationship with God mean that we should feel threatened or somehow are immobilized by living under the supervision of an invisible being who punctiliously monitors our behaviors, as some of us may have imagined in some variation or another? And what about our relationships with others? Is there more to human relationships than coexistence and joyous or contentious interactions with one another?
Matthew 22:37–40 provides a firm launching point for our discussion. Here, Jesus helpfully summarizes what we have just explored from Genesis (the importance of our relationship to God and one another). The additional piece that Jesus provides, though, is the presence of “love.”
A lawyer posed a question to Jesus with the intent of testing him, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
Jesus replied, “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”
The basic point that Jesus articulates and accentuates from the creation paradigm is love. Now, it is crucial to define what “love” means, because our modern understanding of love is likely far displaced from the definition it possessed in antiquity. Let’s begin by considering human love for God. What is it supposed to look like? The short answer is as follows: to love God means to obey him with a heart of discipline and gratitude.
Today, the predominant American understanding of “love,” unfortunately, has been reduced to a mere feeling or a flowery emotion that we respond to. It comes and goes, virtually beyond our control. In antiquity, though, “love” implied an action that can be commanded and willed by the person. Put differently, “love” was something that people were capable of controlling. “How?” you may ask. A quick glance at the culture of antiquity sheds some light.
After delivering his people from Egypt, God established a suzerain-vassal covenant with them—a structure typically reserved for agreements between earthly kings, not between God and man. This type of covenant defined a clear relational dynamic: the superior party, possessing greater strength and authority, offered protection and provision, while the subordinate pledged allegiance, loyalty (or "love"), and obedience. In this context, the expected "love" was not a fleeting emotion but a disciplined commitment rooted in devotion and duty. The Deuteronomic love (Dt 6:5) that mankind is expected to demonstrate–that is, to love God with all your heart, soul, and might–then, is a servitude or loyalty that can be commanded and one that is not dependent on emotion alone.[1]
However, it should also be noted that this does not mean that the affective sense of “love” ought to be occluded. Note that this covenant, requiring Israel’s sole devotion, was established only after God performed an act that is worthy of great admiration: he delivered Israel out of the house of slavery, in which God’s people endured heavy burdens and ruthless oppression. In my opinion, it would be difficult to presume that the Israelites worshiped God, void of experiencing any emotion of awe, reverent fear, or gratitude after encountering an extraordinary deliverance. Our love for God should entail both: we should love the LORD through a disciplined obedience as well as with gratitude, which stems from remembering Christ’s eternal salvific work.
Now, what about our love for one another? What is that supposed to look like? One way of responding to this is to consider John 13 (Foot Washing at Passover) and Luke 10:25–37 (Parable of the Good Samaritan). In both passages, the key image that we observe is the posture of someone restoring another person back to full dignity. In John 13:34, Jesus commands, “Love one another as I have loved you.” And we may wonder, “How did Jesus love his disciples?” The antecedent in the immediate context is most likely (but certainly not limited to) Jesus’ act of washing his disciples’ feet.
Foot washing was a common practice before entering a home, but an esteemed figure washing the feet of his subordinates was nothing short of shocking. First, the act itself is unsettling if we pause to consider what it entails: it means handling feet caked with dirt, sweat, and possibly even excrement, accompanied by a pungent stench. Even if the disciples’ feet had already been cleansed by this point, and therefore Jesus’ gesture served more of a symbolic purpose, the association of the loathsome task remains. Yet even more striking than the physical unpleasantness is the sheer reversal of social norms: a highly respected leader voluntarily stooping to perform such a menial task for his students. At the heart of this event is the portrayal of someone who is superior in every way, yet bends down to serve and restore the other. Without having to unpack the whole story, we can see the same principle operating in the “Parable of the Good Samaritan,” as well. To live in a relationship with others, then, means that we stoop down to serve and restore others, as our model did. We’re invited to see others as possessing the image of God, and therefore use our abilities, status, and resources to restore and uphold the dignity of our neighbors.
What does all this mean for us? What does it mean to be human, practically? As Christians, by definition, we have entered into a covenant with God. We have received an eternal provision and protection, and are expected to give the LORD our whole devotion. That means, from the smallest deeds and thoughts to the largest ones, we devote ourselves to living according to our master’s ways. A good starting point might be to familiarize ourselves with his ways. And how am I (a student, scientist, faculty, mother, friend, etc.) supposed to restore and uphold the dignity of my neighbor? In some situations, a simple encouraging word can go a long way. Sometimes, the often-undervalued power of sharing your presence with someone over a meal might be the very glimpse of light someone needed. Much more can be said, but we trust that his Spirit will continue this conversation with you personally. We look forward in hope and excitement to how the LORD will lead our community.
[1] See Jon D. Levenson, The Love of God, for a deeper discussion on this topic.
