Sometimes I like to hang out with trees.
It’s apparently a trendy “thing” now, to hang out with trees.
But many of us have been doing it for our whole lives without knowing it’s a “thing.”
I like to hang out with trees because it feels good, and because sometimes it helps me to listen with more than just my ears.
Once, years ago, while I sat quietly in a forest in Central Massachusetts, a thought came to me so clearly it was as if I heard it said out loud: Love everyone, yourself included. That is work enough for a lifetime.
At the time, I think I most needed to hear the “yourself included” part. Lately, though, I find that the “love everyone” message is more compelling.
For several years now, as I do my annual reflection in preparation for the high holidays, I have found myself circling back in one way or another to the question: What can one person do? So much is happening in the world that threatens our values and in some cases our lives and the lives of those we care about. What can one person do?
This year, particularly as a result of my activist work, I hear that message of the forest coming back to me as an answer to this question. What can one person do? Love everyone.
And that brings me full circle back to the slogan I made up back in 2010, for our first Rosh Hashanah as a newly merged congregation: “Love more… Learn more… Fix what’s broken.” A good, simple motto for what I thought our community ought to value. Love More, Learn More, Fix What’s Broken.
Now, eight years later, I realize that Love More and Fix What’s Broken are inseparable.
I’ve been training as a social justice community organizer for the past couple of years, and the primary lesson I am learning is that loving relationships are at the heart of any successful effort to fix what’s broken.
Loving relationships. I am learning this lesson because it is highlighted in every community organizing training program. But much more importantly, I am learning this lesson through experience. In the past couple of years I have met and grown to love some young people who have rocked my world. People who listen deeply, and love fiercely, and dream big. People who inspire me and give me courage and joy. People who are so different from me that you might think we could not possibly have anything in common. But we have more in common than we could ever have imagined.
Love More and Fix What’s Broken are inseparable.
Sadly, there are many obstacles in our culture to experiencing this kind of love:
We are chronically “crazy busy,” and often chronically exhausted.
We live physically isolated from one another, especially from people who are different from us.
Most of us are addicted to our phones and devices and screens, major sinkholes of time and energy;
many of us are addicted to more dangerous substances or habits as well.
And we have been acculturated to say “I’m fine, thanks” when we are suffering.
Add to this the anxiety, depression, despair, doubts about self-worth, and insecurity that are the hallmarks of the American psycho-spiritual profile in the 21st century, and it is no surprise that loving one another is a daunting challenge.
Yet underlying all the anxiety, depression, despair, doubt, and insecurity is our yearning to love and be loved. Our pure, life-affirming, soulful yearning for love. And the hatred and violence we witness daily? Hatred and violence are what happens when this innate yearning for love is warped, stifled, or shut down.
What is love? I started asking this question on Rosh Hashanah.The question has occupied poets, philosophers, dreamers and song-writers throughout human history. Try to define it and you run smack into one of the most profound mysteries of the human experience.
But I want to define it, because the love we yearn for is not about “chemistry,” or infatuation, or lust, or obsession. The love we yearn for is not even about “liking.”
What is love?
Love is not a feeling.
Love is not an abstract concept.
Love is a verb.
Love is something we do.
Some of you might recall that I say pretty much the same thing about what it means to be Jewish -- that being Jewish is about what we do, not so much about what we believe. It is not a coincidence that I am saying it again in this context. Judaism has much to teach us about love, and most of it has to do with love as action not feeling.
So now here is my working definition of love:
Love is radically accepting, and nurturing the growth of, a human being.
The “radically accepting” emerges from a deep trust, an orientation of the heart that values the preciousness of each person. I use the word radical for its original meaning, of or having to do with roots. But it is also radical in the sense of being profoundly counter-cultural in our society. Radically accepting.
And the nurturing refers to all that we do to manifest that radical acceptance. I may feel a loving trust, but if I don’t do anything then it isn’t love.
Love is radically accepting, and nurturing the growth of, a human being.
When I say that I love every one of your children, on a fundamental level I am not talking about how I feel. I am talking about the energy I put into deeply listening to and supporting and encouraging and nurturing every one of your children. Regardless of their behavior, regardless of their mood, regardless of their appearance.
It is a commitment of energy that is intentionally counter-cultural, in a culture that is so harshly judgmental of behavior, mood, and appearance.
It is a commitment that I have made to love every one of you as well, a commitment that I am reaffirming today. This is not a commitment that is inherent in the role of rabbi. There may be rabbis who would not explicitly name love as a central task in their job description. But I do.
Now that I’ve insisted that love is something we do, let me backtrack a little and admit that there is also an emotional component, but not in the way that our culture usually portrays love. The emotional component is joy.
Now how astonishing would it be if every one of us made that commitment to radical love?
In order to love one another, we would need to find the will to get around all the obstacles, the forces that drain our soul energy: the forces of busy-ness, exhaustion, isolation, addiction, anxiety, depression, despair, and doubt. A daunting challenge.
But it can be done. Love More and Fix What’s Broken are inseparable.
What would it take to love more?
It begins with listening. “True listening is love in action.” [M. Scott Peck, The Road Less Traveled]
We can listen to understand one another’s experiences. And we can listen at the soul level, which happens not just with our ears.
True listening is an expression of compassion, because our heart is called to resonate with the heart of the person we are listening to.
And true listening is an expression of humility, because we are called to set aside our own ego needs, opinions, and habits of the mind.
What else would it take to love more?
Active love requires other forms of giving besides the giving of attention.
In Erich Fromm’s book The Art of Loving -- a book that I first read in my twenties and which profoundly influenced the trajectory of my life -- Fromm describes what a person is doing when they are loving another person:
He gives... of that which is alive in him, he gives… of his joy, of his interest, of his understanding, of his knowledge, of his humor, of his sadness -- of all expressions and manifestations of that which is alive in him…. Giving is in itself exquisite joy.
What else would it take to love more?
It would also take a willingness to let someone listen to us.
A willingness to be vulnerable.
A willingness to be broken and not have it all together.
A willingness to be loved.
How many times have you had the experience of reaching out to someone who is suffering only to be told, “It’s okay, I’m fine”? It happens to me all the time. I know that I have been guilty of doing the same thing at times. It’s worth reflecting on why we do that, and what we might do to push back against that cultural norm.
What else would it take to love more? I invite you to reflect on how you would answer this question. What could each of us do to take on the challenge to fix what’s broken in this world by loving more?
And remember this:
To love in this way is also to risk disappointment and hurt. To love does not insure that the beloved will grow in the direction that we had hoped or dreamed. To love is to stay mindful of our fantasies and expectations, and to let them go, again, and again, and again.
Love everyone, yourself included. That is work enough for a lifetime.
And by committing to love, we can do our part to fix what’s broken in this crazy-making world -- generating more joy in the process.
What would it take for you to love more, right now?
And how might you support one another in that intention?