A pair of small birds, male and female, busily hunt for tiny insects hiding in the bark of a tree. The male approaches the female, food in beak, and offers it to her. She eats.
What drives one small bird to ensure the well-being of the other? Where does that instinct come from? Somehow, in some part of his tiny being, does he know that the eggs developing in her body will carry something of his very self into the future? Does he know that for their species to survive, she must survive and thrive?
For one to survive, so must the other. These two little beings are a mutual configuration, a pair. They are partners in a project called Life. Is this love?
A vast network of the gossamer threads called mycelium spreads through the soil of the forest. These root-like structures are the underground parts of fungi that occasionally send up fruits which we see above-ground as mushrooms. Many mycelia interweave with the tiny rootlets of trees. There, underground, these fungi feed the tree nutrients which they have collected from the soil. They also pass water to the tree. And in return, the tree feeds the fungi carbohydrates, which it has made through photosynthesis, and which the fungi lack the capacity to produce on their own.
One large being helping another. On some unknown level do they know that for each to live a healthier life so must the other? Is this love?
Far overhead, our Sun gives up 350 billion tons of itself every day. The planets orbiting it receive varying degrees of heat and light as a result. They are held together and in their correct orbits by the gravity of so strong a star. And at least on one planet, life has evolved because of this self-giving. It may seem that the Sun receives nothing in return for its sacrifice. Except maybe it does. Maybe the very planets it supports by giving so much of itself are in turn what the Sun receives. Maybe the community of the solar system is what the Sun receives. The company. The companionship as it travels the vastness of space. The Sun is not alone because it gives itself away.
One Sun, eight planets. Together because of self-sacrifice. Is this love?
These relationships, of one bird for another, one forest species for another, the Sun and all the planets for one another, each demonstrating a sacrifice of one for the well-being of the other; are these so different from the human relationship we call love? Are we not called to view the well-being of the other as integral to our own well-being? In Deuteronomy, God calls the Hebrew people to “love the stranger.” (Deut. 10:19) Jesus tells his followers that loving one’s neighbor is one of the two most important commandments. (Mark 12:31) The Qu’ran instructs that to save one life is equivalent to saving all of humanity. (Qu’ran 5:32)
We are part of the natural world, and we are called to relationship just as the rest of creation is; a relationship of reciprocity, a relationship of love, a relationship in which the well-being of the other is paramount. This may seem daunting. But we have examples all around us. May we learn from the birds, from the roots and threads in the forest soil, and from the very Sun in our sky. Like the teachers of the world’s great religions, they will show us how to love.
Is this love? Or is this the Creator helping us to understand what love is? I say yes to both.
Yes, Bridget. I agree, it's both practice and example.