LOVE, ON THE OTHER HAND, comes to your table. Soft. Selfless. Inquisitive without imposition. In suggestion, not overthrow. With invitations, not demand. It comes to you with all the rights of divinity and yet with all the humility and authenticity of a warm human Christ seeking to give of itself in absolute benefit of you. No lines. No arguments. It’s too surrendered for that, too elevated, too evolved, too truly Christian, too much taken by the mystery of you and with a overt longing to celebrate that mystery, to realize it with you and to have you celebrate it yourself. And there is no sequence, no procession, no first or second in love. There is only you. Love spans multitudes, times, and worlds. Still, there is only you. That’s love’s own mystery. O love, be the good medicine of my better health. Keep stern and stifling Religion far from me, banish it from my house, with all its arguments.
In Christ, the warmth returned to my cup, Amen
* To read Part One
