In line with my previous post, I have been reading, for the second time, Gary Dorrien's history of American Liberal Theology. Still in the first volume, covering the 19th century birth of the movement, the key elements of what is still a wonderful, lively theological tradition were formed. One of the central tenets of this point of view is an emphasis on Divine love, and its cognates in human personal and social life. There are strains of this in our contemporary religious discourse, whether liberal or conservative, but one can become frustrated with a serious discussion of the issue of divine love if one sets it up without any reference to either scripture or the reality of the messiness of human love. This is one of the bases of the feminist critique of sexist God-talk; mindlessly repeating "Father" as a personal pronoun for God misses the reality that fathers are an equivocal role, sometimes a healing presence, strong and supportive, but also a source of fear, violence, and hostility (if they are present at all).
Human love - real human love, not some ideal we set up in our minds - is a complicated affair (no pun intended). Some people love people of the opposite gender. Some love both genders equally. Some love people of the same gender as themselves. Some love runs smoothly. Some lasts briefly but intensely. Some lasts a lifetime and beyond. Love is as diverse and numerous as the numbers of individuals who can and do love, and have and will love. Each and every time we fall in love and navigate its strange and beautiful waters is different as well. Making sense of divine love analogically from the messy reality of human love, were one honest, should leave us scratching our heads rather than clear on the concept.
At the same time, this messiness - the irrational, sometimes even counter-productive, nature of human love - is an important factor in understanding what it is we mean when we say that God is love, or that God loves us. This love is expressed differently each and every time, in each and every distinct moment of life. It is complicated. It is confusing. It makes no rational sense whatsoever.
Then again, if it did, it wouldn't be love.
