It wasn’t that long ago when I realized that one thing was missing on my spiritual map. If my journey with Jesus had a goal or a set of goals as the endpoint on a map, years passed before I realized one essential element in that endpoint was absent:
Me.
Don’t get me wrong. If spirituality could be envisioned on a map, I was definitely on that map. But I was present as an agent, a laborer, a servant, a worker. I was there marching every day closer to the goal of loving God and loving neighbor. I existed on the map as one who gave love.
I did not exist as one who received love.
The well-being of my neighbor mattered. But my own well-being didn’t.Time spent treasuring God was vital. Treasuring myself wasn’t. My mental, spiritual, physical and emotional health could be sacrificed, as long as I was engaged in God’s mission.I felt guilty when I invested time and resources in renewal or rest.
But Bernard of Clairvaux, an ancient spiritual cartographer, caused me to rethink this. Writing in the 12th century in On Loving God, Bernard envisioned the Christian pilgrimage as a march toward four “degrees” of love. Two of these we’ve explored in an earlier post: loving God for self’s sake, and loving God for God’s sake. There is a revolutionary shift needed for many of us in envisioning our life’s purpose not as loving God so we can gain the things we really want out of life but instead as loving God simply because he is God.
Similarly, I, and many Christians, need a radical change in the way we approach “self.” Bernard wrote about “loving self for self’s sake” and “loving self for God’s sake.” The first one many of us may already be aware of, even if we still struggle with it. In an earlier post I explored the dangers of spiritual narcissism, loving self for self’s sake. But some of us have learned that lesson too well. We are so concerned about self-lessness that any move toward providing self-care feels like selfishness. Bernard understood that it was important not to move so far away from loving self for self’s sake that we no longer even considered care for self. This is why he believed the final stage in our journey was this: “loving self for God’s sake.” What he meant was learning to see ourselves through God’s eyes. A major indicator of spiritual maturity is to love ourselves in the way God loves us.
This was hard for me to accept. It may be hard for you to accept. One reason why is that we’ve bought into something called “worm theology.” Mark Galli explains:
“Many people have suffered spiritual abuse at the hands of what is sometimes called “worm theology.” In this theology, God’s holiness is set against our sinfulness to such a degree that the only appropriate response seems to be self-loathing.”
The term “worm theology” may come from the Issac Watts hymn which says “Would he devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?” Jesus in his sacrifice is so lofty and we, whose sin required this sacrifice, are so lowly. He is wonderful. We are mere worms. And while it may make for a memorable line in a hymn, it also leads to self-loathing. Many of us have adopted such twisted views of God and self that self-loathing has become all-too-common and self-loving all-too-rare.
Brennan Manning, in A Glimpse of Jesus: The Stranger to Self-Hatred, writes about the self-hatred many of us struggle with:
“Whether envisioned as an omnipotent thug stealing our inner peace or as Something Awful tearing behind us, these distortions and caricatures of the God revealed by and in Jesus engender fear, anger, self-hatred, and a nagging sense of insecurity about ever being in a right relationship with God. As I’ve tramped about the country as an evangelist over the years … it has become luminously clear that … self-hatred is rampant.”
Unconsciously, many of us have received a map, from harsh and overbearing churches or Christians, that lists self-hatred and self-loathing as an implicit goal of our journey. Bernard recognized that self-loving must instead be placed prominently as one of the goals of our journey.
Henri Nouwen is a contemporary spiritual cartographer. He believed the most important scene in the gospels was this one:
And when Jesus was baptized, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him; and behold, a voice from heaven said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. (Matt. 3:16-4:1 ESV)
Nouwen argues that Jesus seeing himself as beloved was critical to all that came after this point. He argues that us seeing ourselves as beloved is just as critical:
Who am I? I am the beloved. That’s the voice Jesus heard when he came out of the Jordan River…Jesus listened to that voice all the time, and he was able to walk right through life…He clung to that voice. There are many other voices speaking–loudly: “Prove that you are the beloved.” “Prove you’re worth something.” “Prove you have any contribution to make.”…These voices are so strong in this world. These were the voices Jesus heard right after he heard “You are my beloved.”…Jesus said, “No, I don’t have to prove anything. I am already the beloved.”…If you keep that in mind, you can deal with an enormous amount of success as well as an enormous amount of failure without losing your identity, because your identity is that you are the beloved. Long before your father and mother, your brothers and sisters, your teachers, your church, or any people touched you in a loving as well as in a wounding way–long before you were rejected by some person or praised by somebody else–that voice has been there always.
A vital part of our journey is learning to love ourselves in the way God does–treating ourselves as beloved when so many treat us as less than beloved.
According to an old Jewish story, there was a four-year-old boy named Mortakai who refused to attend school and study Hebrew. Whenever his parents tried to immerse his mind in the Torah, he would sneak away and play on the swing set. Every form of persuasion failed. Mortakai remained stubborn and defiant. The exasperated parents even brought him to a famous psychiatrist, but that also proved futile. Nothing changed the young boy’s heart, which seemed to grow more distant, lonely, and hardened every week.
Finally, in desperation, Mortakai’s parents brought him to the local rabbi, a warm and wise spiritual guide. As the parents explained their plight, pouring out their frustration and despair, the rabbi listened intently. Without saying a word, he gently picked up Mortakai, took him in his arms and held him close to his chest. The rabbi held Mortakai close enough and tight enough so the young boy could feel the safe, rhythmic beating of the rabbi’s heart. Then, without a word, he gently handed the child back to his parents. From that point on, Mortakai listened to his parents, studied the Torah and, when it was appropriate, slipped away to play on the swing set.
This is how we are to see God, and to see ourselves. We are his beloved, held tightly to his chest. And that changes everything.
This is especially important for those who, because of their skin color, their sexual preference, their socioeconomic status, or for a host of other things have been rejected and ridiculed, especially by religion. Those who’ve been ostracized or oppressed suffer what from Daniel Migliore calls the “sin of self-hatred.” Pride is the sin of those with power and privilege. But it’s opposite, self-hatred, is the sin of those who are cast aside to the margins. And the antidote to this sin is these words: “You are my beloved.”
David Benner provides this summary:
“Christian’s affirm a foundation of identity that is absolutely unique in the marketplace of spiritualities. Whether we realize it or not, our being is grounded in God’s love. The generative love of God was our origin. The embracing love of God sustains our existence. The inextinguishable love of God is the only hope for our fulfillment. Love is our identity and our calling, for we are children of Love. Created from love, of love and for love, our existence makes no sense apart from Divine love.”
Caring for yourself is not selfish. Providing for your needs is not sinful. Ensuring your voice is heard isn’t prideful. Loving yourself, for God’s sake, is, instead, a measure of great spiritual maturity. Your well-being should matter to you, because it matters to God. Get out of toxic relationships and environments. Protect yourself from abusive people and institutions. Establish rhythms of self-care physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. Find a therapist. Connect with a spiritual director. Schedule a visit with a doctor. Make and keep supportive friends. Listen to inspiring music. Eat amazing food. Get out and run or walk. Take a nap. Read. Rest. Renew. Put loving yourself back on the map.
