Three Human Ways Of Loving God

F

irst: Falling In Love

Love often begins with strong feelings of intimacy, but these are usually mixed with lust and infatuation. Infatuation—from the Latin infatuare, “to make a fool of”—reveals that early love is often self-centered, feeding the ego rather than truly seeing the other. This is why we say love is blind. At this stage, we do not yet love the person as they are, but as we imagine them.

Love begins to mature only when the ego yields and the other is recognized as truly other.

Infatuation can attach itself not just to a person, but to an idea as well. Ignatius of Loyola, as a young man, was captivated by dreams of glory and knighthood. After his wounding in 1521, he was awakened, and his desires started to be purified as he encountered Christ in prayer and reading. Yet even then, his love was still in need of purification—he initially wanted to love God on his own terms.

True love grows when it moves from self-seeking to self-giving. This is captured in the grace he proposes in the second week of the Spiritual Exercises: “To ask for an interior knowledge of Our Lord… that I may love Him more and follow Him more closely” (SE 104).

The path he took began with reading the lives of the saints. In their company, he encountered men and women whose love for Jesus was real and authentic. At the heart of every saint’s life is a simple truth: what makes a saint a saint is a deep love for Jesus. But there is a long journey from falling in love to surrendering in love. Ignatius was not yet fully in love. It was later, at Manresa, that his love began to take its true shape. There, in prayer, he contemplated the person of Jesus—through Scripture, by entering into the mysteries—and his love deepened and matured. During this time, Ignatius developed a disciplined rhythm of prayer, spending as much as seven hours a day in communion with God.

Second: “Falling Upward” — The Harder You Fall, the Higher/Deeper Love Can Grow

In his book with a catchy title, Falling Upward, Richard Rohr suggests that our failures and struggles can become stepping stones to a deeper and more authentic life with God. It speaks of the different directions taken in the “two halves of life.” He explains that the second half of life is not simply about growing old. It is like falling in love again and again, but now with the weight of love. Love in this stage matures and ripens—becoming more Christ-like and less centered on oneself. This comes at a cost, for it is often triggered by a kind of falling—a failure, a loss, a disappointment, or a crisis that shakes our certainties. This falling is not merely inevitable; it is necessary. Only by facing our wounds and limitations do we begin to grow into our truest, most loving selves.

In this sense, even beginning on the “wrong foot” has its grace. The grace of felix culpa—a “happy fault,” a blessed stumbling and falling—is the grace that can make us more human, more humble, and more loving.

Third: Remaining In Love, and this brings us to the Gospel: “As the Father loves me, so I also love you. Remain in my love…"

The word “oneing,” an Old English word used by Lady Julian of Norwich (1342-1416), captures the act of remaining as a oneing encounter. Every loving is a oneing. All the gospel readings of the past days from John express this divine oneing, divine unity that stands behind all the divisions. The readings will continue to the climax in the "High Priestly Prayer of Jesus." In the next two weeks, we will hear in the words of Jesus the words: “that all may be one” (John 17:21). We are reminded that love is not something we can plan or control. It happens. It is given. It is grace. At the beginning, love feels new, exciting, and almost effortless. But over time, love matures through heartbreaks, which make the love stronger, deeper, and more faithful. It is no longer sustained by emotion alone, but by commitment. No wonder Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." This is the steadfast love which is behind the Greek verb “meno” meaning: to remain, abide, stay—committed with Christ in love.

So we might say: The more we remain in love, the more we discover love, the more we begin to love. I would like to end by praying this prayer, often attributed to Fr Pedro Arrupe SJ (1907–1991), but by Fr Joseph P Whelan SJ (1932-1994)

Nothing is more practical than

finding God, than falling in Love

in a quite absolute, final way.

What you are in love with,

what seizes your imagination,

will affect everything. It will decide

what will get you out of bed in the morning,

what you do with your evenings,

how you spend your weekends,

what you read, whom you know,

what breaks your heart,

and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.

Fall in Love, stay in love,

and it will decide everything. Amen

Fr JM Manzano SJ