McGrath Institute Blog

Editorial Note: This excerpt is taken from an essay by the same name originally published at Church Life Journal on December 18, 2018.

We want to say that love is unconditional. It seems right. It is equal parts comforting and challenging. It is comforting because if I am loved, then there is nothing I can do to lose that. It is challenging because in order to love, I have to will to be untroubled by obstacles. We do not want to say love is conditional because we fear submitting love to the twisted logic of relationship terrorism: if you do not meet my demands, I deprive you of what is good for you, or vice versa. We think of conditions as qualifications and we do not want to attach qualifications to love. So we say love is unconditional. But that is wrong. Love is always conditional.

During my daughter’s early weeks of life, I started to read her poetry as I fed her. I’d like to say it was because I knew she found the sound of my voice soothing, or because I hoped to instill in her a love of literature from an early age or because I believe that vocabulary formation begins in these first, tender weeks. These things may all be true, but that’s not why I fill her sweet little ears with metered verse. No, I read her poetry to pass the time.

Friends in college would immediately identify me as an artist. I created visual art until 2010, then drifted from it without class assignments and trajectory. At this same time God guided me toward professional ministry, a path that has been filled with consolations. As I lived into this, I found vitality in studying theology and the wells of its richness. This study and living theology became the new way I identified myself and was identified by others. Usually around wintertime, I experienced a very convincing urge to continue formal study, which would catch me in a confusing circle of discernment. Each time, I was excited and convicted of the nudge for a short while, but as I immersed myself in the thought of further education, something held me back and it would wear away.

In the heart of God Quad, you encounter the Sacred Heart of Jesus statue. If you look at a map, you may even notice the walking paths actually form the shape of a heart with the statue at its base. This is not just a geographic reality, but a theological truth as well. Jesus is at the heart of everything we do and the foundation of all knowledge. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

I am currently working in our community’s archives, spending my days sorting hundreds of documents and artifacts. The boxes seem endless, lined up on long tables, as I sit there handling one item at a time. While there was a period of my life when this kind of activity—identifying what something is and deciding where it ought to be filed—would have been too intellectually stimulating for me and led to burnout, I now see it as a privileged opportunity to get in touch with my executive functioning skills.