Love Divine and Love Human

Greetings,

      We are approaching Valentine’s Day, which in America has become a focus of romance and love.

      In theology we often talk about the different kinds of love based primarily on the varying Greek words which are all translated in English as “love”, especially philos (as in “brotherly”), eros (as in “sexual”), and agape (as in “Godly”).  We tend to consider them as very distinct and separate, yet, in fact, they are all “love.”  While aspects and emphasis may differ, they are still part of a whole understanding of love.

      The poets are most helpful in reminding us that the distinctions we make are very arbitrary and rather artificial.  God who is Love certainly understands the undivided nature of love and the connectedness of all love; and that all genuine love is connected directly to God.  I always enjoy reading this poem by Goethe, and thinking of its personal and universal nature.  I find it thought-provoking.  (The translation is by John Whaley.)

Kind, and holy, famed for kisses,

You who so nearly pre-charted me

In my breathing thirsting ecstasy!

To whom should I lament if not to you!

You, whose poems were a heart’s-ease to me,

Supporting me like a warming pillow of healing herbs,

So that once again from these earthly spasms

My heart recovered to beat once more.

Oh, how to tell you that my lip is bleeding,

That it’s split and hurts so pitiable painful,

This lip of mine that is so accustomed

To swell with love’s sweet happiness

And, like a golden portal of heaven,

To take in and give out the tones of blissful delirium.

Yes, it is split!  Not from the bite of my fair one

Who, in the all-embracing fullness of her loving,

Wants only more of me, and wants the whole of me.

Split, alas, because I, cold, desolate,

Was seized by autumn winds in the cutting frost.

And now there’s the juice of grapes and the honey-bee’s juices,

Both together by my friendly fire on the hearth,

That’s there to help me!  In fact, it doesn’t help:

For of love’s healing poisonous balm

They’ve not got a single droplet between them.

Yours & His,

DED