[6/9] Novena of Grace: "Possess"

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or today and tomorrow, we will reflect on two equally important aspects of love. Benedict XVI's very first encyclical was entitled Deus Caritas Est (God is Love). Love was a central theme for his pontificate. In the first parts of the letter, he calls our attention to love (Eros) using classical Greek thinking: "The divine power that Aristotle at the height of Greek philosophy sought to grasp through reflection, is indeed for every being an object of desire and of love —and as the object of love this divinity moves the world—but in itself it lacks nothing and does not love: it is solely the object of love" (DC 9).

Why revisit ancient Greek Philosophy? Because such ancient vision helps us understand the much deeper understanding of love (Agape) which the quote above does not yet capture.

In philosophical and theological debate, these distinctions have often been radicalized to the point of establishing a clear antithesis between them: descending, oblative love—agape—would be typically Christian, while on the other hand ascending, possessive or covetous love —eros—would be typical of non-Christian, and particularly Greek culture. Were this antithesis to be taken to extremes, the essence of Christianity would be detached from the vital relations fundamental to human existence, and would become a world apart, admirable perhaps, but decisively cut off from the complex fabric of human life. Yet eros and agape—ascending love and descending love—can never be completely separated (DC 7).

In the mind of the Greek thinkers, the divine "moves" others by being desired, but does not itself "move" toward others. Benedict XVI contrasts this with the Christian understanding of God, who is not only the object of love but also its origin and subject. Benedict XVI says, "the second important element now emerges: this God loves man." And also for Francis: For “he loved us first” (cf. 1 Jn 4:10). Because of Jesus, “we have come to know and believe in the love that God has for us (1 Jn 4:16) (Dilexit Nos 1).

But our main point today is focused on the first important element: Love that initially seeks to "possess."

We often hear the saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” It’s a familiar way of expressing the idea that beauty is relative—what one person finds beautiful, another may not. Anyone who has ever redecorated a home with family members knows how differing tastes can lead to disagreements! We see here an arena for the exercise of our freedom.

Yet there is another truth: there are universal qualities of beauty—patterns, proportions, and harmonies that speak across cultures and centuries. Even amid personal preferences, we can still look at something and say together, “That is beautiful.” What draws us to beauty? What captivates us to say, “This is good, this is true, this is beautiful”?

In Plato’s Symposium, beauty was never just about appearances. It was deeply tied to love, desire, and the longing for the good. In that dialogue, a banquet hosted by the poet Agathon becomes the setting for a profound discussion on love. Agathon celebrates the beauty of the beloved, but it is Socrates who goes further as he recalls how he was taught in his youth by Diotima. She describes love (Eros) as a kind of ascent: we begin by loving a single beautiful body, then all beautiful bodies, then the beauty of the soul, then the beauty of ideas and knowledge, until finally we are drawn to Beauty itself—eternal, pure, and unchanging.

There are different ways of “possessing” what we find beautiful. One kind of love can become possessive in the worst sense—controlling, consuming, reducing beauty to something to be used or owned. But there is also a good kind of desire to possess—a yearning not to dominate, but to protect and preserve. This is the kind of love's growth that begins in wonder and matures into co-stewardship.

Benedict XVI, likewise says, "It is part of love's growth towards higher levels and inward purification that it now seeks to become definitive, and it does so in a twofold sense: both in the sense of exclusivity (this particular person alone) and in the sense of being “for ever"...It could hardly be otherwise, since its promise looks towards its definitive goal: love looks to the eternal" (DC 8).

When you fall in love with someone, you don’t seek to own them—you seek to care for them. You pay attention. You cherish their uniqueness. You protect their dignity.

The same logic applies to the earth. Creation is not there to be exploited, but to awaken love. The natural beauty of the world calls us to attention. And when we truly notice it—its rhythms, colors, forms, and fragility—we begin to love it as we love ourselves. And what we love, we want to protect. St Francis of Assisi is the model of this love. He calls every creature his sister and brother.

Francis's clarion call, in Laudato Si' is to rediscover beauty as a path to salvation—not only of our souls, but of our planet. He insists that we will not care for our common home out of guilt or obligation alone. Rather, it is love that will move us—and beauty is what awakens love to deep awe and wonder.

This is captured powerfully in the words of Senegalese forestry engineer Baba Dioum: “In the end, we will conserve only what we love; we will love only what we understand; and we will understand only what we are taught.”

We cannot protect what we do not love, and we do not love what we have not truly seen. To perceive beauty—to contemplate it with “a serene attentiveness,” as Francis writes—is the first act of ecological conversion. Similarly, the French ornithologist Jean Dorst, in his 1971 book Before Nature Dies, said: “Man has enough objective reasons to safeguard nature. But in the last analysis it will only be saved by our hearts. It will only be saved if man loves it, simply because it is beautiful.”

We will not save the world by fear. We will save it by falling in love with it. This is how beauty saves. Fr JM Manzano SJ

Grace To Beg For: "Lord, grant me the grace to receive love with reverence and responsibility—to recognize the beauty that surrounds me as gift, not for possession, but for praise."

 

"Walang Ibang Sadya" (No Other Purpose) by Joey Ayala

What use are the eyes if there's nothing to behold—
The dance and sway of grasslands in the wind?
What use are the ears if they cannot hear
The song of the breeze through the trees?

What use are the lips if not to be kissed
By the rain, or to be touched by the river’s embrace?
Gaze, listen, savor the world—
Its design exists for no other reason.

The flower at your feet waits to be noticed—
What is its life if you never breathe its scent?
The smooth stone in the stream would go to waste
If you never caress the cheek it offers.

What use is the skin if it cannot feel
The tenderness of sunlight or the freshness of the breeze?
Breathe it in, touch it, pay attention to the world—

Its design exists for no other reason.
Just like that are human beings when they are loved:
Their one true dream, their sole fulfillment.

Meditation: The world was made not just to exist, but to be received with wonder. The breeze, the grass, the stone, the flower—they await not mastery, but attention. Creation comes toward you like a lover’s offering: not demanding, but vulnerable, desiring to be seen.

As you listen to the song or recall its imagery, let this question gently rise: How am I receiving the love of the world—of others, of God—not as entitlement, but as invitation? Do I respond with presence, tenderness, and care?

Suscipe and Anima Christi