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Love and . . . Responsibility?
by Edward P.
Sri
From
the Nov/Dec 2005 Issue of Lay Witness Magazine
It is routinely
pointed out that about half of all marriages end in
divorce. But what is not often discussed is the
other half of the equation: the marriages that don’t
break up. Are those marriages thriving? Do married
couples that stay together feel truly close to one
another? Do they achieve true, lasting, personal
intimacy?
The picture on
this other side of the divorce line is not a pretty
one. Studies have shown that most couples do not
feel as if they are married to a close friend. In
fact, only about 1 out of 10 married couples in
America say they experience emotional intimacy in
their relationship.
A great marriage
is not one that simply stays together. A great
marriage is one in which spouses experience deep
personal communion with each other. We want
marriages in which people 10, 20, 30 years into
their married life can say, “I love my spouse more
now than I did when we were first married.”
For Pope John Paul
II—then Karol Wojtyla—the key to personal communion
in married life is mutual self-giving love and the
accompanying sense of responsibility for each other
as a gift. Indeed, this theme of responsibility is
so important that he put it in the title of his book
about love, marriage, and relationships between men
and women. The book is not called simply Love,
but Love and Responsibility.
What is this
responsibility? And how can it transform
relationships between spouses, fiancés, and
“significant others”? That’s what we will explore in
this reflection.
Responsibility
Think about what
happens in betrothed love. In our last reflection,
we saw that the fullest sense of love involves two
people giving themselves to each other. And
this self-giving is nothing less than a total
entrusting of one’s self to the other person—a
surrendering of one’s own preferences, freedom, and
will for the sake of the other.
This means that in
betrothed love, my beloved totally gives herself to
me. She freely and lovingly gives up her autonomy
and commits her will to the good of our marriage and
the good of our family. Therefore, since my beloved
completely entrusts her life to me in this unique
way, I must, in turn, have a profound sense of
responsibility for her—for her well-being, her
happiness, her emotional security, her holiness. As
Wojtyla explains, “There exists in love a particular
responsibility—the responsibility for a person who
is drawn into the closest possible partnership in
the life and activity of another, and becomes in a
sense the property of whoever benefits from this
gift of self ” (p. 130).
Here, Wojtyla
offers a standard for love that is counter-cultural:
“The greater the feeling of responsibility for the
person the more true love there is” (p. 131). Notice
how he didn’t say the more powerful the emotions,
the more powerful the love is. The true measure for
love is not how much one enjoys being with his
beloved or how much pleasure he receives from her.
Authentic love is not so self-centered, constantly
looking inward at my own emotions and desires.
Rather, true love looks outward in awe at my beloved
who has entrusted herself to me, and it has a deep
sense of responsibility for her good, especially in
light of the fact that she has committed herself to
me in this way.
Accepting the
Gift
In order to help
us better appreciate the crucial role responsibility
plays in a relationship, let’s consider the two
aspects of self-giving love. On one hand, there is
the giving of self: My beloved gives herself
to me and I give myself to her. On the other hand,
there is the acceptance of the other person:
I accept my beloved as a gift that has been
entrusted to me, and she accepts me as a gift.
Wojtyla notes how in betrothed love there is a great
mystery of reciprocity in the giving and the
receiving of each other. In fact, he makes a very
intriguing statement about this: “Acceptance must
also be giving, and giving receiving” (p. 129).
How is acceptance
giving? In other words, in what sense is the
acceptance of my beloved an actual gift to her?
The insights from John Paul II’s Theology of the
Body will be helpful here. While commenting on
the marriage of Adam and Eve, he explains that when
Eve was first given to Adam, she was fully accepted
by him, and the two became intimately united as one.
“Then the man said, ‘This at last is bone of my
bones and flesh of my flesh.’ . . . Therefore a man
leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his
wife, and they become one flesh” (Gen. 2:23-24).
Because sin had
not yet entered the world, Adam did not struggle
with selfishness. Thus, he loved his wife not for
what he could get out of the relationship (a
coworker in the garden, companionship, emotional
pleasure, sexual pleasure, etc.). Rather, he loved
her for who she was as a person. He accepted
his wife as a tremendous gift that he would treasure
and care for. He had a profound sense of
responsibility for her, and he always sought
what was best for her, not just his own interests.
He never did anything that would hurt her.
The Key to
Intimacy
Put yourself in
Eve’s shoes. Imagine having a spouse like that!
Imagine how she must have felt being totally
accepted in this way. Indeed, having a husband
joyfully receive her as a gift and love her for her
own sake was a great gift to her, for now her
longing for personal communion could be fulfilled.
Adam’s total acceptance of Eve provided her with the
security she needed to feel safe enough to entrust
her heart, indeed her whole life, fully to him
without any fear of being let down. In other words,
his committed love and acceptance of her fostered in
her the trust that makes emotional intimacy
possible.
This is the key to
personal communion in marriage. Since Eve had
complete trust in Adam’s love for her, she never
felt afraid of being used by him, being
misunderstood by him, or being hurt by him.
Therefore, in this context of committed love and
responsibility, she felt free to give herself fully
to her husband—emotionally, spiritually,
physically—holding nothing back.
Back to the
Garden
This is the kind
of dynamic we want for our marriages: one of total
trust, which makes personal intimacy possible.
However, my beloved will grow to trust me—and thus
unveil her heart to me—only to the extent that she
senses that I am committed to her, that I totally
accept her, and that I feel great responsibility for
what is best for her.
This is not an
easy thing to achieve. Unlike Adam and Eve in the
garden, we are fallen. We are selfish, and we often
do things to hurt one another that can break down
trust and thus hinder intimacy. For example, when a
man is more preoccupied by what he needs to do at
work than he is about caring for his wife’s needs,
he sends a message to her that she is not a
priority—that everything else is more important.
This, of course, does not help build trust and only
makes her feel more distant from her husband.
Similarly, a wife who constantly nags her husband
and criticizes him for his weaknesses, for not
getting things done around the house, or for not
having a better job, may make him feel disrespected
or unappreciated. Such complaining will likely only
drive him farther away from her emotionally.
What about when we
experience firsthand our beloved’s weaknesses and
feel hurt by something they have done? When we’re
hurt, we’re tempted to get frustrated with our
beloved, saying to ourselves, “Why does he always do
this? He is never going to change!” We may become
defensive (“This was not my fault! Why doesn’t she
understand?”). We might put up walls (“I’m
not going to tell him what I’m really feeling
anymore. . . . He doesn’t care anyway”). We might
even begin to withdraw our love (“If I had married
someone else, I know I wouldn’t be treated this
way”).
Wojtyla reminds us
that in moments like these, our acceptance and
responsibility for the other person is tested the
most. Still, we should “love the person complete
with all his or her virtues and faults, and up to a
point independently of those virtues and in spite of
those faults” (p. 135). He is not saying we should
condone or ignore the sins and weaknesses of our
beloved. But he is challenging us to avoid viewing
our beloved through the lenses of a prosecuting
attorney. Even though we are hurt, we need to look
beyond the mere legal facts (“She did this to me!”)
and see the person, who maintains great value even
in the midst of their shortcomings and sins. After
all, as we have seen throughout these reflections,
true love is directed to the person—not just what he
or she does for me. So when the beloved is having a
not-so-beautiful moment— is not pleasing to me and
in fact does something to hurt me—will there still
be total love and acceptance for him or her?
This is the kind
of question that gets at the real measure of one’s
love. As Wojtyla sums up,
The strength of such a love emerges most clearly
when the beloved person stumbles, when his or her
weaknesses or even sins come into the open. One who
truly loves does not then withdraw his love, but
loves all the more, loves in full consciousness of
the other’s shortcomings and faults, and without in
the least approving of them. For the person as such
never loses its essential value. The emotion which
attaches itself to the value of the person remains
loyal to the human being.” (p. 135)
This, of course,
is analogous to the way the Lord loves us. Despite
our many sins and failures, God remains committed to
us, looking at us patiently and mercifully in the
face of our faults. He puts up with us even when we
do things that hurt our relationship with Him.
Therefore, if we
wish to be more Christ-like in our marriages, we
must first and foremost develop a deeper attitude of
love and acceptance for our spouses as they are,
with all their imperfections. Instead of trying to
change them or becoming irritated with their faults,
we must remain firmly committed to them as persons
who have been entrusted to us as a gift. Our
fundamental attitude toward our beloved in the midst
of their weaknesses must not be one of agitation,
defensiveness, or annoyance, but one of unwavering
acceptance in our hearts for our spouse as he or she
is, bearing patiently with his or her faults. When
we do this, we begin to love as God loves.
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