"For this, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not kill, Thou
shalt not steal, Thou shalt not covet; and if there be any other
commandment, it is briefly summed up in this word, namely, Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself."
29. Love being the chief element of all law, it comprehends, as has
been made sufficiently clear, all commandments. Its one concern is to
be useful to man and not harmful; therefore, it readily discovers the
way. Recognizing the fact that man, from his ardent self-love, seeks
to promote his own interests and avoid injuring them, love endeavors
to adopt the same course toward others. We will consider the
commandment just cited, noticing how ingeniously and wisely it is
arranged. It brings out four thoughts. First, it states who is under
obligation to love: thou--the nearest, noblest, best individual we can
command. No one can fulfil the Law of God for another; each must do it
for himself. As Paul says (Gal 6, 5), "Each man shall bear his own
burden." And (2 Cor 5, 10): "For we must all be made manifest before
the judgment-seat of Christ; that each one may receive the things done
in the body, according to what he hath done, whether it be good or
bad." So it is said, "Thou, thou thyself, must love;" not, "Let
someone else love for you." Though one can and should pray that God
may be gracious to another and help him, yet no one will be saved
unless he himself fulfils God's command. It is not enough merely to
pray that another may escape punishment, as the venders of indulgences
teach; much rather, we should pray that he become righteous and
observe God's precepts.
30. Second, the commandment names the most noble virtue--love. It does
not say, "Thou shalt feed thy neighbor, give him drink, clothe him,"
all of which things are inestimably good works; it says, "Thou shalt
love him." Love is the chief virtue, the fountain of all virtues. Love
gives food and drink; it clothes, comforts, persuades, relieves and
rescues. What shall we say of it, for behold he who loves gives
himself, body and soul, property and honor, all his powers inner and
external, for his needy neighbor's benefit, whether it be friend or
enemy; he withholds nothing wherewith he may serve another. There is
no virtue like love; there can be no special work assigned it as in
the case of limited virtues, such as chastity, mercy, patience,
meekness, and the like. Love does all things. It will suffer in life
and in death, in every condition, and that even for its enemies. Well
may Paul here say that all other commandments are briefly comprehended
in the injunction, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself."
31. Third, the commandment names, as the sphere of our love, the
noblest field, the dearest friend--our neighbor. It does not say,
"Thou shalt love the rich, the mighty, the learned, the saint." No,
the unrestrained love designated in this most perfect commandment does
not apportion itself among the few. With it is no respect of persons.
It is the nature of false, carnal, worldly love to respect the
individual, and to love only so long as it hopes to derive profit.
When such hope ceases, that love also ceases. The commandment of our
text, however, requires of us free, spontaneous love to all men,
whoever they may be, and whether friend or foe, a love that seeks not
profit, and administers only what is beneficial. Such love is most
active and powerful in serving the poor, the needy, the sick, the
wicked, the simple-minded and the hostile; among these it is always
and under all circumstances necessary to suffer and endure, to serve
and do good.
32. Note here, this commandment makes us all equal before God, without
regard to distinctions incident to our stations in life, to our
persons, offices and occupations. Since the commandment is to all--to
every human being--a sovereign, if he be a human being, must confess
the poorest beggar, the most wretched leper, his neighbor and his
equal in the sight of God. He is under obligation, according to this
commandment, not to extend a measure of help, but to serve that
neighbor with all he has and all he controls. If he loves him as God
here commands him to do, he must give the beggar preference over his
crown and all his realm; and if the beggar's necessity requires, must
give his life. He is under obligation to love his neighbor, and must
admit that such a one is his neighbor.
33. Is not this a superior, a noble, commandment, which completely
levels the most unequal individuals? Is it not wonderfully comforting
to the beggar to have servants and lovers of such honor? wonderful
that his poverty commands the services of a king in his opulence? that
to his sores and wounds are subject the crown of wealth and the sweet
savor of royal splendor? But how strange it would seem to us to behold
kings and queens, princes and princesses, serving beggars and lepers,
as we read St. Elizabeth did! Even this, however, would be a slight
thing in comparison with what Christ has done. No one can ever equal
him in the obedience wherewith he has exalted this commandment. He is
a king whose honor transcends that of all other kings; indeed, he is
the Son of God. And yet he puts himself on a level with the worst
sinners, and serves them even to dying for them. Were ten kings of
earth to serve to the utmost one beggar, it would be a remarkable
thing; but of what significance would it be in comparison with the
service Christ has rendered? The kings would be put to utter shame and
would have to acknowledge their service unworthy of notice.
34. Learn, then, the condition of the world--how far it is, not only
from Christ's immeasurable example, but from the commandment in this
verse. Where are to be found any who comprehend the meaning of the
little phrase "thy neighbor," notwithstanding there is, beside this
commandment, the natural law of service written in the hearts of all
men? Not an individual is there who does not realize, and who is not
forced to confess, the justice and truth of the natural law outlined
in the command (Mt 7, 12), "All things therefore whatsoever ye would
that men should do unto you, even so do ye also unto them." The light
of this law shines in the inborn reason of all men. Did they but
regard it, what need have they of books, teachers or laws? They carry
with them in the depths of their hearts a living book, fitted to teach
them fully what to do and what to omit, what to accept and what to
reject, and what decision to make.
Now, the command to love our neighbors as ourselves is equivalent to
that other, "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you," etc.
Every individual desires to be loved and not hated; and he also feels
and sees his obligation to exercise the same disposition toward
others. The carrying out of this obligation is loving another as
himself. But evil lust and sinful love obscure the light of natural
law, and blind man, until he fails to perceive the guide-book in his
heart and to follow the clear command of reason. Hence he must be
restrained and repelled by external laws and material books, with the
sword and by force. He must be reminded of his natural light and have
his own heart revealed to him. Yet admonition does not avail; he does
not see the light. Evil lust and sinful love blind him. With the sword
and with political laws he must still be outwardly restrained from
perpetrating actual crimes.
35. The fourth thing the commandment presents is the standard by which
we are to measure our love--an excellent model. Those are particularly
worthy instructions and commandments which present examples. This
commandment holds up a truly living example--"thyself." It is a better
model than any example the saints have set. The saints are dead and
their deeds are past, but this example ever lives. Everyone must admit
a consciousness of his own love for himself; of his ardent concern for
his temporal life; of his careful nourishment of his body with food,
raiment and all good things; of his fleeing from death and avoiding
evil. This is self-love; something we are conscious of in ourselves.
What, then, is the teaching of the commandment? To do to another as
you do to yourself; to value his body and his life equally with your
own body and life. Now, how could God have pointed you to an example
dearer, more pleasing and more to the purpose than this example--the
deep instinct of your nature? Indeed, your depth of character is
measured by the writing of this command in your heart.
36. How will you fare with God if you do not love your neighbor?
Feeling this commandment written within your heart, your conscience
will condemn you. Your whole conduct will be an example witnessing
against you, testifying to your failure to do unto others as the
natural instinct of your being, more forcibly than all the examples of
the saints, has taught you to do. But how will it go with the
ecclesiasts in particular--the churchmen with their singing and
praying, their cowls and bald pates, and all their jugglery? I make no
comment on the fact that they have never observed the commandment. I
ask, however, when has their monastic fanaticism permitted them time
and opportunity to perceive for once this law in their hearts, to
become sensible of the example set them in their own human instinct,
or even to read the precept in books or hear it preached? Poor,
miserable people! Do you presume to think that God will make void
this, love's commandment, so deeply and clearly impressed upon the
heart, so beautifully and unmistakably illustrated in your own
natures, and in the many written and spoken words as well--think you
God will do this on account of your cowls and bald pates, and regard
what you have been devising and performing?
37. Alas, how shamelessly the world has ignored this beautiful and
impressive commandment wherein are so skilfully presented the
individual, the task, the model and the sphere of labor! And, on the
other hand, how shamefully it occupies itself with the very reverse of
what is taught in this commandment! Its whole practice and tendency
seem to be to place our responsibility upon others; monks and priests
must be righteous for us and pray in our stead, that we may personally
be excused. For the noblest virtue, love, we substitute self-devised
works; in the place of our neighbors we put wood and stone, raiment
and food, even dead souls--the saints of heaven. These we serve; with
them we are occupied; they are the sphere wherein we exercise
ourselves. Instead of the noblest example--"as thyself"--we look to
the legends and the works of saints. We presume to imitate such
outward examples, omitting the duty which our own nature and life
present and which the command of God outlines, notwithstanding such
duty offers more than we could ever fulfil. Even if we could
accomplish all it offers, we would still not equal Christ.