Recently, I received some thoughtful questions related to the following statement by John Calvin:
…in everything we care best for ourselves, if we become absorbed in love toward others…
Is it not true, however, that our very desire to “be absorbed in love toward others” sometimes results in self-harm? A wife who cares for her impaired husband might neglect her own spiritual, physical, and social well being. It’s not uncommon to hear of social workers investing extraordinary time and care in their work, later succumbing to depression and burnout. In such cases, Calvin’s words seem to fall flat. So what do we make of his claim that “we care best for ourselves, if we become absorbed in love toward others”?
I cannot speak directly for Calvin, but I can try to place his words in what I think is their intended context.
His statement takes several things for granted, starting with what constitutes genuine love. According to 1 Corinthians 13, Christian love is not just a general well-wishing, but is a yearning on behalf of others for that which is most pleasing to the Lord and most good for them. Ordinarily speaking, this love is not self-destructive but sustainable, since the good of others includes our ability to continue doing them good. For that reason, if you help others in ways that are ultimately self-defeating, such as working yourself ragged, you are probably not “absorbed in love,” but in a whole mixture of good, evil, and ignorant intentions.
Suppose a man wishing to benefit his family misidentifies their “good” and how to achieve it. He views their well being primarily in terms of having an income that can only be realized by neglecting his own spiritual life and physical health. Would we say this man is truly absorbed in “love,” as defined by the Word? Is he not driven in part by error, fear, or pride? I think that Calvin’s point is that being absorbed in love for others means seeking good ends by good means. Today’s love shouldn’t come at the expense of tomorrow’s.
“Being absorbed in love for others means seeking good ends by good means. Today’s love shouldn’t come at the expense of tomorrow’s.”
According to this ideal, who but Christ is ever fully "absorbed in love"? I know I am not. Yet we may approximate Christ’s love when we remain mindful both of our responsibilities and our limitations. This was illustrated once when Jesus looked upon “fields white with harvest,” representing boundless opportunities for ministry. On that occasion, the Lord did not teach his disciples to pray, “God, make me a super servant who can carry out this work alone.” No, he bade them, “pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest” (Mt 9:38).
In his book, The Imperfect Pastor, Zack Eswine makes an excellent point that John the Baptist declared what many of us in practice deny: "I am not the Christ" (Jn 1:20). All too often, we feel obligated to love as only Christ can love. Moreover, we feel unloving if we do not at least attempt to transcend our finite natures. But in reality, confessing “I am not the Christ,” means I will I never be omniscient, omnipresent, or omnipotent . That is, my duty to love will never include having or desiring perfect knowledge about how to love others. Nor can I be everywhere for everyone at once. Above all, “I am not the Christ,” means my love will never come close to being able to doing everything for everyone. Even to wish otherwise is idolatrous!
From our position as creatures, Christian love includes faith-enabled submission to all kinds of limitations. Love obliges us to accept God’s wisdom in permitting gaps to go unfilled for a time. Love humbles us to receive, engage, and rejoice in the help of others. True love for others is not at odds with God’s love for us, but perfectly integrates with his revealed will.
It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved rest. — Psalm 127:2
The Lord bless you with divine wisdom to be more and more absorbed in love,
