"Let Me Love You"

M

y dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

Recently, I had a retreatant who shared a line that Jesus spoke to her in prayer. Jesus said, “Let me love you.”

At first, she understood it as a command from Jesus asking her to let or allow herself to be loved by the Lord. But then came a major shift in her understanding of those same words. The same message but different take. "Let me love you" turned no longer as a command to let or to allow—it was a plea from the Lord expressing His desire to love, in the way God loves.

It is true: God meets us where we are. But even more amazing is this: God meets us despite where or who we are. Even when we are hiding, resisting, lost, or indifferent—God still comes. God will not wait to love. And God always finds a way.

Albert Nolan, in Jesus Today, writes: “How can someone be commanded to love? Love is an emotion that wells up inside us in certain circumstances. It is not a matter of obedience or duty…” Likewise, in Deus Caritas Est, Benedict XVI writes: “The commandment of love is only possible because it is more than a requirement. Love can be ‘commanded’ because it has first been given” (Deus Caritas Est, 14). For both Benedict and Nolan, the “commandment” to love God is not a burdensome demand, but a response to being loved first.

This was the grace my retreatant received. Boy! It was siesmic or earth shaking. She had been looking at love upside down. So when she first heard Jesus say “Let me love you,” she thought she was being commanded to open her heart through sheer effort, in order to love God. Nolan points out that in practice, many Christians think "that we first make a giant effort to obey the commandment to love God, and when, with God’s grace, we succeed, God responds by loving us. For Jesus, however, God’s love comes first... In Jesus’ understanding, loving God was a grateful and joyful response to God’s unconditional love. It was a spontaneous response to the experience of God as a loving, caring Father…” (Jesus Today: A Spirituality of Radical Freedom, p 157).

Countless times, I encounter retreatants who drop a truth bomb that leaves us both in silence. Perhaps you’ve experienced something similar. She bared her soul during the silent retreat’s final conversation. It always happens inside the consultation room.

For my second point, I turn to today’s Gospel, where Jesus says: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest… Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart” (Mt 11:28-30).

“Come to me,” He says. But many of us don’t—because again, we see it the other way around. We think Jesus loves us because we serve, obey, or impress him. Or we think we need to fix something before going to him. We think that since God is perfect we need to come close in perfection first. We humans think of love as transactional. But authentic divine love is never transactional. When Jesus says, “Let me love you,” he loves simply because he is love—regardless of whether we allow him or not. God is love, and we can never change God, even when we falter, no matter how many times. The Father will keep waiting outside his house despite the pain until the prodigal son returns. Why? Because he is love that bears all. Period.

In the Philippines, there’s a favorite Rey Valera song titled "Walang Kapalit" ("No Other" or "No Substitute"). I like the English translation: “Don’t wonder if I’m no longer waiting for anything in return for the love I offered. Despite your lack of affection, I'll still give you everything—even if you don't notice. Don’t be afraid, I won’t expect anything in return for the love I’ve offered…”

Like the lover in the song, Jesus does not withdraw his love, even when we forget him. On the Cross, he already bore the pain of our rejection—and he chose to love us anyway. To “take his yoke” is not to take on more burdens. It is to be yoked to his heart—meek, humble, and willing to love no matter what. His love is gentle. He will not force. On one hand he will wait until we are ready to love him too. But on the other hand he will not wait to love and forgive.

Fear, not sin, is what keeps us from going to Jesus. That is why so often his message is “Do not be afraid.” Afraid that we are unworthy. Afraid to be known too deeply. Afraid to be seen in our exhaustion, in our failures, in our burdens.

In closing, let us ask ourselves: Have I truly let Jesus love me? Or do I resist, thinking I must earn his affection? Today, perhaps all we need to do is stop being afraid—and let him love us. “Come to me,” he says. “Let me love you.” And there, in his heart, we will find our rest. Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ