A gasoline/convenience store in the area received a recent facelift, probably in preparation for competing with a new rival being constructed on the opposite side of the street. Across the front wall of the building, a new tag line proclaims, “It is the love that drives us.” It is clever, really, since the name of the chain is . . . . Love’s. This new line is a step up from the previous one: “Clean places, friendly faces.” (though I do value each of those, and not just in gas stations!)
As I pumped fuel that day, that simple message laid across an already simmering contemplation of love triggered by reading chapter 5 of Pope Leo’s encyclical. In it, he pleads for a return to a civilization of love as an antidote to the sweeping use of force unleashed by a culture of power. Domination is the go-to move in a power culture. It sets the agenda, determines the criteria for decision-making, and frequently threatens the common good. Not so with love. In its vision, “justice and charity are intertwined and love becomes the guiding principle of economic, political, and cultural life.”[1]
At first, that message fell easily on my heart. I have long resisted the idea that humanity is rotten to the core, with no hope for reform. I have objected to the assertion that lust for power and a propensity for violence must be our default setting. Original blessing appeals to me more than original sin, and that humanity holds the potential to embrace the good. Plus, what is not to like about an admonition to love? Sure, it is a bit demanding and requires commitment and work. Sacrifice may even be involved. But it is also kind and hopeful in a feel-good sort of way. Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, the reverberating influence of a hippie movement that freely proclaimed “love is the answer” made its mark on many of us. Even if we didn’t claim to be part of that fold, the message worked its way into our minds, in part thanks to certain rock music songs such as the Beatles’ “Love is All you Need.” Even if the words never quite made sense, the chorus would stick in our minds and serenade us for days. After a while, we may have even believed it.
Music is capable of inspiring listeners in a variety of ways, including toward love. The 1980’s brought songs like “We Are the World” or “Do They Know it’s Christmas.” They raised awareness and caused sensations of compassion. They convinced us to donate to worthy causes and even dared to suggest there was a connectedness between us and a global population. Just maybe there was enough space on this planet for us and for the Others, too. Differences did not necessarily have to lead to building walls and spewing hatred. Like a cocktail that loosens our inhibitions, music helps us at least know that human love and compassion are possible when properly motivated. The problem, it seems, is that the music fades and the effect wears off.
Fortunately, music isn’t the only advocate for love. There are also influences from the message of the Gospel or the Church. Despite some heavy doses of judgment and condemnation, the church always had a hymn or two that insisted love was part of the plan. “Love Divine, All Love Excelling” and “Love that Will Not Let Me Go” are two examples. And, there are biblical teachings that are pretty blunt on the subject as well. When asked about the greatest commandment, Jesus answered: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.” Or 1 John 3:18: “Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.” I John 4:20 throws down the gauntlet: “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars.” Never let it be said that the civilization of love doesn’t come with its own forceful moments.
Love as a motivating force can appear in life’s more challenging moments as well. For instance, M. L. King used love as part of the message for social change that he preached. Love creates the capacity to make a deliberate choice to seek the good of other human beings, even when love was missing in their treatment of you. More than sentimentality, love was the foundation of justice. In contexts like this one, love becomes a standard of critique and a guide for imagining a better future.
Clearly, there are moments when love invites us beyond giddy emotions. A civilization of love as envisioned by the Pope expects to be part of relationships between parties who may have little in common except for occupying the same planet and needing similar resources. And that is where the mirror begins to crack.
Between culture, music, and religion, you might think there is a lot love to go around. And there is, I would contend. But reading the Pope’s essay revealed a deep discouragement within me. While it is easy to believe that love was a possible choice for humanity at the individual level, when we move to the level of people groups and culture where different loyalties are forged, ingrained, and defended, it is harder to imagine. The chasms are deep. Compromise or resolution is difficult. We need bridge builders, not demolition crews driving the discussions and making the decisions.
Here is the thing that gives me pause as I think about this matter. Who cares about justice and charity anymore, except perhaps those for whom they are lacking? Is a civilization of love a defensible position that can be taken seriously in the public square? As one who bought into the idea as part of my understanding of Christianity, I hardly want to say that out loud. It is not true that no one cares. But if love does not already define our worldview, how do we learn of it? How do we adopt it. And for those who might suggest the answer is “we teach it” how do we ensure that we don’t simply teach our own dysfunctions and short comings in an effort to create others in our own image? History has plenty of examples of well-intentioned but misguided ideology that inflicts harm without recognizing it.
Years ago, while attending a peace lecture, I listened as the speaker suggested peace would be more obtainable if we could leave religion out of it. He may be right. I understand that religions have stoked their share of violence and animosity through the ages. But I came away from the lecture recognizing that stripping religion from the conversation also eliminated my primary motivation for seeking peace in the first place. Without its teaching and belief-system that inform my faith, I had much less confidence in humanity’s capacity for and propensity toward love, justice, or peace. If we won’t collectively commit to it, what is the motive for us as individuals?
Which leaves me with my question, “Who will champion a civilization of love?” Particularly among those with power to make or influence decisions? I have no doubt there are some supporters out there, but the advocates seem small in number at the moment.
Over the years, I’ve settled with the answer to do my best in the small circles I travel—brighten the corner where you are, as the old hymn says. But I have to say, that just isn’t enough. Not by a long shot. Still, it is the best I have at the moment, and continues to be my best contribution. May love indeed be what drives us all.
[1][1] https://www.vatican.va/content/leo-xiv/en/encyclicals/documents/20260515-magnifica-humanitas.html#THE_CULTURE
