Love must be sincere

Romans 12:9 is clear: love must be sincere. But it's easier said than done.

Thomas Merton linked sincerity and love in his book, No Man Is an Island. He writes: 

If my will acts as the servant of the truth, consecrating my whole soul to what the intelligence has seen, then I will be sanctified by the truth. I will be sincere. ‘My whole body will be lightsome’ (Matt 6:22). But if my will takes possession of truth as its master, as if the truth were my servant, as if it belonged to me by right of conquest, then I will take it for granted that I can do with it whatever I please. This is the root of all falsity. …In the end, the problem of sincerity is a problem of love… And the secret of sincerity is, therefore, not to be sought in a philosophical love for abstract truth but in a love for real people and real things—a love for God apprehended in the reality around us. (Merton, 197-198).

Sincere love is expressed in the relationships we have with others. It includes arresting direct lies, about things we have or have not done, but also goes beyond by addressing the things we tell ourselves and others. If my will acts as, what Merton calls, "a servant of the truth" then I'm not spinning stories or speaking niceties just so I look better in the eyes of others. I should be self-aware enough to name the truth, even if it leaves me looking weak or incompetent. 

I had a colleague friend stop and ask me a few weeks ago, "How are you?" Normally, I'd say "doing well!" or something like that. But that day was different. I responded honestly and said, "I'm not doing very well." That led to an exchange about some things that I was wrestling with. He didn't laugh or judge but did something surprising; he opened up about his life too. 

Loving and being loved start with sincerity. After "Love must be sincere", Romans 12:9-10 goes on to say, "Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love." That kind of love for others and with others only comes from truth, honesty, and sincerity.  

 

More on Prayer

In learning to pray, I've been reliant on some saints from the past. This week, two in particular.

The writings of Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, have been peeling back the skin of my God-directed petitions, showing that it's actually my response to God's action (or perceived lack thereof) that forms the basis of prayer. We recognize our nothingness in the presence of God's everything:

"Prayer is inspired by God in the depth of our own nothingness. It is the movement of trust, of gratitude, of adoration, or of sorrow that places us before God, seeing both Him and ourselves in the light of His infinite truth, and moves us to ask Him for the mercy, the spiritual strength, the material help that we all need." (Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island, 43)

Julian of Norwich, a Middle Ages ascetic, has opened my imagination to see myself in relationship to the Trinity. She received "showings" (visions) from God and writes about them and her reflections on them. I've found her depictions helpful as I envision what dwelling "in" God or God "in"dwelling me looks like:

"We ought to take great joy that God dwells in our soul, and even more joy that our soul dwells in God. Our soul is made to be God's dwelling place, and the dwelling place of the soul is God, that is unmade." (Julian of Norwich, Revelation of Love, Chapter 54)