Ordo amoris

I'm going off of my normal approach today and going a bit more technical and in-depth. I felt the need to reflect on how we think about people in regards to policies and platforms. This is a long essay. I'll get back to more typical stuff next week (maybe?). Thanks, friends. ​

But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
-Luke 10:29

As a pastor, I am not a fan of chasing headlines. I'm as exhausted as the next person when it comes to keeping up with what's happening around our country and trying to understand which things are actually legal or not in a democracy. It's a lot, and I know people of various perspectives who are overwhelmed. I've encouraged people over and over again to keep their eyes very simply on the way of Jesus and not allow each new headline to steal our humanity in one way or another. 

But from time to time, our elected political leaders oddly seek to offer Christian insights (rarely mentioning Jesus when they do, though!). And this is where I'm often drawn in to wrestle. I've spent a lot of time swimming in theological waters, and when someone leading our country suggests that God thinks XYZ... well, words have power. 

Recently in an interview about putting "America First," one of our highest-ranking US officials said, "I think it's a very Christian concept, by the way, that you love your family and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens, and then after that, prioritize the rest of the world."

And to give our politician the benefit of the doubt here, he is indeed talking about something that early Christian writers like St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas mention, known as ordo amoris, Latin for "order of affections." Although Augustine used it to say that we must learn love for God first and then order all things from that, it's often been used to prioritize what's most and least important, particularly as it relates to who we give time and care to. It's a fairly standard idea. 

In so many ways, this makes sense. After all, most of my current time and energy is spent on caring for my family on a day-to-day basis. I'm not going to go pick up some random kid and give them a ride home from track practice while I leave Judah and Kylan sitting there on the curb. But if that kid needs a ride, are these really my only options?

There are a few problems with all this. The first is that the Christian concept mentioned didn't originate with those early Christian writers at all. It came from a Stoic concept hundreds of years earlier called oikeiosis. And oikeiosis is not advice about the way things should be, but a description about the way things grow as we develop! The concept is literally about how healthy human growth "brings others into one's household." As a young child, we are only focused on ourselves. Then as we grow up a bit, our circles of concern broaden to love and care for our family, our neighborhoods, and then the entire world. The ultimate goal of growth, then, is that we care about all of humanity as much as ourselves. The concentric circles show how we grow to include more and more as we mature, rather than tell us how to prioritize. That's significantly different than a ranked priority list, and very much worth consideration. The picture above is the "circle of concern" developed by a Stoic dude named Hierocles in the 2nd century, and was intended to illustrate healthy growing love- not who gets cared about if we have a little extra left over. 

So maybe the conversation isn't really about care for our family. Maybe the question is if we are prioritizing our center circles in such a way that it's at the expense of any obligation to the rest of humanity.  

And that brings us to our next challenge. As people centered on Jesus, before we accept something as a "Christian concept" (not always a helpful phrase, honestly), we must ask ourselves: Is this a concept we see reflected in the life and teachings of Jesus?

When Jesus was asked what the greatest command was, he was given a chance to give God's ordo amoris. And he gave two commands: First, love God (honor, prioritize, serve), and then, love your neighbor. 

I find it interesting that Jesus didn't say, "love your family," to start that second command. Maybe he knew that would be a no-brainer? Or maybe it's more beautiful than that. In fact, at one point in the gospels Jesus is told to prioritize his family because they are waiting to take him home, and he suggests to the crowd that everyone in the room is his mother and brother and sister. I don't believe he didn't care about his family. Instead, he was helping people see that the family of God is wider than the categories we often choose. 

There are two more worthwhile details about Jesus' response to the most important priorities question. One is that in Matthew 25, Jesus suggests that when his disciples cared for those who were struggling the most on the edges of society-- the poor, the ones in prison, etc-- that they were actually caring for him. So the first priority to love God was actually fulfilled when one of them showed compassion to a poor, hungry, imprisoned outsider! Wouldn't that be in the "loving neighbor" category?! I guess they're more connected than we realize. That blurs our circles! 

Now back to the original Luke moment. When Jesus tells his interrogator the second command is to love one's neighbor, he follows it with the famous Good Samaritan story. His story highlighted that a foreigner who was despised by Jews was actually the one who exemplified "bigger circle" love better than the victim's own people who walked on by. The one who prioritized the outermost circle in a moment of need was the hero. 

This gets us back to our point. What can happen is that beneath a very rational comment about priorities, the intention can actually be to find a loophole which allows us to clarify who we can keep outside of our love. And that doesn't match the example of Jesus, friends.

This is why ranking who is most deserving of love is not a Christian concept, especially if it leads us (in any way!) to then decide that some are "undeserving" of care. We have enough love and mercy in us to include the outermost circles. It comes from God! The reservoir is limitless!

Now here's the thing (this may be unpopular): this does not automatically demand one single political view about something like immigration policy, for example. We can have various understandings of the role of government and what the best border or immigration approaches should be. 

BUT what this does demand is that those claiming to follow Jesus must think and speak about those inside and outside our country as "neighbors." We must never start seeing any other human as less deserving of mercy and dignity than another. There is no place for that kind of  hierarchy. Therefore, there is no place in the kingdom of Jesus for sweeping labels, for dehumanizing someone by calling them "an illegal," for dismissing people as "getting what they deserve," or for delighting in the suffering and legitimate fear of children.

I'm hearing hatred and dismissal coming out of far too many Christians who have been told that it's permissible, because certain people and other countries are simply outside of our responsibility or concern. Empires can believe that. But not you and I. There is no ordering of Christian love that requires us to exclude another person from care. As disciples of Jesus, we must always seek out humane, compassionate approaches to our neighbors. This is regardless of our ultimate political values. 

So go ahead and advocate, all Christians from diverse political backgrounds. You may disagree about the best way to approach things on the large scale. But, for the sake of the integrity of our faith, let's be certain that policies we support and call for include the actual Christian concept of concern for all people involved. Each one bears God's image, especially those on the edges of our circles. That's the point. 

Jesus, don't let us try to gain the whole world and lose our souls. 

Peace,
Keith