The Web of Love
The web of relationships
We are all connected by a web of relationships. Between me and every other human who has ever lived is a thread binding us together. Between me and every animal, every plant, every rock, all of creation, is another set of threads.
This web is made of love. Where there is great love, compassion, gentleness, kindness, care, the threads are strong. Where there is hatred, bigotry, neglect, oppression, violence, malice, the threads are weakened. But there is no thread that can be completely severed. At the center of each thread is the core-strand that sustains the entire web: God’s love. Even if we damage a relationship beyond what seems reparable, God is still there, preserving the barest of threads, with hope that someday—though it may be in the new creation and not on this present earth—we will be reconciled.
Love flows two directions on each thread, between one person and another. Love may flow more strongly in one direction than the other: for example, if you show love to your enemy, if you have compassion for someone who hates you.
Sin is often described as primarily an affront to God, a severing of the relationship between oneself and the Divine. Psalm 51:4 is commonly cited: “Against you, you alone, have I sinned.” In this model, to “sin” means to break God’s commandments. To be “perfect” is to be a good rule-follower, which is immediately deemed impossible. So we’re always sinning, and apparently, this means we should be punished—but never fear, Jesus saves us from punishment.
This is a narrow and misleading conception of sin. This one-dimensional view encourages us to neglect how sin affects our relationships and affects our own well-being. In many places throughout Scripture, sin is described as a sickness to be healed, a stumbling-block to be avoided, a barrier to be broken down. These are not guilt-and-punishment-oriented understandings.
In Luke 7:36–50, Jesus eats at a Pharisee’s house. A woman, a known sinner, comes in, starts weeping, and washes Jesus’s feet with her tears and some ointment that she brought. The Pharisee is offended but says nothing. Jesus tells him a parable about two debtors, one who owed much and one who owed little. Their debts were both forgiven. Jesus asks, “Which will love the creditor more?” The Pharisee answers, “The one with the greater debt.” Jesus affirms his answer, then goes on:
“Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Then he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” … And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Sin is not a strike against me because I did not follow God’s laws perfectly. Sin is whatever impedes my ability to love. Returning to the web: sin creates an impediment to the flow of love along the threads of relationship between us. Sin diminishes our capacity to love one another, thus weakening the web of connection. Sin impedes our ability to love creation, to love God. Sin impairs our willingness to receive love from God and from others (and perhaps from ourselves).
If I sin against someone else on purpose—because I hate them, because I fear them, because I delight in cruelty—I have diminished my love toward them. In order to hate someone, I have to deliberately cut off my love for them. I have to turn them into an enemy. I have to convince myself they are unworthy of love, dignity, compassion. Sometimes this is work I do myself. Sometimes, the work is done for me, by demagogues, by groupthink, by unjust systems, by oppressive governments, by racist ideologies, by sexist religions, by wealth-driven corporations. My love for others is choked off in order to justify my hatred and cruelty toward another.
If I sin against someone else unwittingly—because I’m ignorant, because I’m overly self-focused, because I’m convinced I’m helping—I have diminished my love toward them. I may feel love in my heart toward others, which is a start, but I have not contributed love toward the relationship. I have not strengthened the thread. In fact, I may have added impediments which diminish someone else’s ability to give and receive love.
Sin is not just what we do—sin is also what is done to us. Sin creates ripple effects along the web of love. “Hurt people hurt people,” as the saying goes. If someone betrays my trust, they have sinned against me. My love toward them becomes constricted. My ability to give and receive love—or trust—along every other relationship thread is also affected.
What can remove the impediments to love? What can remove these sins from the web of connection between all of us?
Forgiveness. And repentance. Forgiveness is for the victim and repentance is for the perpetrator.
To be forgiven is to have one’s impediments to love removed. “I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love.” Notice how forgiveness precedes the showing of great love. It’s like taking a kink out of a hose or removing a dam from a river. The flow of love can move freely and abundantly.
Of course, things are a bit messier in the details of real life. Forgiveness happens by degrees, over time, repeatedly. “If a fellow believer sins against me, how often should I forgive?” asks Peter. “As many as seven times?” Jesus responds, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:21–22).
Forgiveness isn’t about giving someone a “clean slate,” as if the harm had never happened. Sin has real consequences. If someone harms or kills another person, that is a permanent wound on the world. And one who is forgiven can ignore the possibilities for love, instead opting to put those barriers of sin back up.
Forgiveness means acknowledging the harm done. But forgiveness does not require that the perpetrator repent, nor that justice be annulled. Forgiveness is for the victim to give. Forgiveness, at the very least, removes the victim’s impediment to love. To forgive is to say, “I will not let your sin against me diminish my capacity to show love to you.”
Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8).
Repentance, too, recognizes the harm done and seeks to repair the situation. By repenting of my sin toward another person, I remove the barrier that impairs my love toward them. But repentance also removes the barrier to self-love. In a way, repentance is self-forgiveness. It is not a “clean slate,” but a commitment to love, repair, and reconciliation.
Of course, there are some situations where, despite forgiveness and repentance, reconciliation on this earth may be impossible. Even if it’s “all water under the bridge,” a wound can remain, trauma can remain, distrust can remain. We can still love from afar, via prayer.
Prayer can strengthen the web of love, and prayer can happen at a distance. In another post, I’ll explore this.
For now, keep the web of love in mind as you read the following from Jesus’s “Sermon on the Plain”:
“But I say to you that listen:
Love your enemies,
do good to those who hate you,
bless those who curse you,
pray for those who abuse you.…
If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them.
If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same.
If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again.
But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for God is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”
…
Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? Or how can you say to your neighbor, ‘Friend, let me take out the speck in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.”
(Luke 6:27–28, 32–38, 41–42)
Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you. This strengthens the web of love even as one’s enemies and haters seek to weaken it.
It is easy to love those who love you back—and it is good that those threads of the web remain strong. But the web must be made strong all over. Therefore Jesus calls us to love where the threads are weak.
To judge or condemn someone for their sin or simply for their difference is to construct an impediment that hinders your love for them. The impediment you build may also impede their ability to receive love from others and give love to others. They may see your judgment, your disgust, your hate, and internalize it as shame, guilt, fear, or even reciprocated hatred. Or they may forgive you, and let their love flow more freely toward you, even though your love toward them is pinched.
“The measure you give will be the measure you get back.” The more impediments you remove—by forgiveness, by repentance, by non-judgment, by kindness—the more freely your love toward others will flow. And the more easily your love flows, the more love you shall receive in return. Even if the world hates you, if you love the world, God’s love flows through you, and it becomes the lens through which you experience life, death, suffering, joy, and relationships.
It may be easy to assume, “My impediments are removed; other people need to remove their impediments.” This is why Jesus offers the teaching about the log and the speck. Our own impediments can impair our perspective about others. Instead of viewing them through the eyes of love, we view them with judgment, with condemnation. We think that by correcting others, we are loving them. Perhaps we are at times, and perhaps our correction is received as love. But how often do we “correct” others because we need to prove we are right? This isn’t love. This just gives us an opportunity to bludgeon others with the logs sticking out of our eyes!
First, we must remove our eye-logs. By removing such a large impediment, love becomes the lens through which we view our neighbor, our friend, our relative. And through the lens of love, the impediments of others do not seem so large. The impediments of others do not impede our capacity to show love to them.
Anyone in the world can show love to another person, and so increase the love along the web. Love, too, creates ripple effects, and its influence can extend far and wide. The core-strand, God’s love, is an efficient conductor, and it spreads the love quicker than we can anticipate.
Anyone in the world can increase the love present in the web, but Christians in particular are called to this work. It is our vocation, our discipleship. Unfortunately, throughout history, and still today, the institution of Christianity has put in place more systemic impediments than systemic love-amplifiers. Nevertheless, there are people and churches and ministries and other entities which bear the name “Christian” that are living into this calling, strengthening the web of love between all people, between people and creation.
Anyone in the world—even non-Christians—can participate in this love-strengthening. “Whoever is not against us is for us,” says Jesus (Mark 9:40). Whoever is not placing impediments, whoever is removing impediments, whoever is increasing the amount of love in the world, is contributing to the web of love.
How do Christians in particular respond to this calling? By committing to a life wherein we love our enemies, repeatedly forgive those who wrong us, pray for those who harm us. Over time, we enlarge the circumference of our love, the circle of our compassion. We view no one with fear, but with love (1 John 4:18). We view no one with distrust, but with love (1 Corinthians 13:7). We judge no one. We condemn no one. We seek to remove impediments to our love for others, both those we have put up ourselves, and those our society has placed for us. This is not easy work. It is not always pleasant work. Loving your enemies is hard if they continue to oppress or hate you.
The serpent said in Eden, “Eat the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, then you will be like God.” And to this day, we have sought greater knowledge, more precise judgment, more articulated discernment of what is good and what is evil. We have weaponized this knowledge, categorizing ourselves as good and those unlike us as evil. We have used our knowledge to place barriers between ourselves and others. Our knowledge has repeatedly been used to create impediments to love, at both the personal and the political levels.
Jesus says, “Love your enemies … so that you may be children of your Father in heaven. … Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:43–48). How can we be perfect? By knowing all the right things? By following all the correct rules? No. We are made perfect by love. “If we love one another, God lives in us, and God’s love is perfected in us” (1 John 4:12).
In heaven, our knowledge will be useless, but our love will endure. Paul writes, “Love never ends. But … as for knowledge, it will come to an end” (1 Corinthians 13:8).
We could call the restoration of the web of love “reconciliation.”
From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view. … So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to Godself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to Godself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making the appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God (2 Corinthians 5:16–20).
For Christians, life in Christ means that the impediments to love—the human ways of viewing others—are removed. Love renews our perspectives. And we are called to strengthen the web of love: in other words, the ministry and message of reconciliation. We are ambassadors for Christ, for love, for shalom. We are not called to force conversions, to control governments, economies, and militaries, to subjugate and condemn those who do not conform to our image of “Christian.” We are ambassadors for Christ—we offer the forgiveness of God. We remove the impediments to love from our own hearts, and seek to remove those impediments from our cultures.
Ultimately, the strengthening of the web of love is part of God’s project to “reconcile to Godself all things, whether on earth or in heaven” (Colossians 1:20). This reconciled reality is already here, and we can live into it. It is a new life born from death—the life-giving death of Jesus on the cross. “Through [Christ], God was pleased to reconcile to Godself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.”
Jesus did not die because God wanted to punish us—but then punished Jesus instead. And Jesus’s death is not merely an example of the righteous being oppressed and killed by the powers that be.
Jesus’s death is a supreme act of self-giving love. God forgives us—God removes every impediment to love that may be present (cf. Romans 8:35–39)—and to demonstrate how open and abundant this love is, God sends Jesus to us. Jesus manifests God’s love to us through his life and ministry, and ultimately, by his death. On the cross, as he is dying, Jesus forgives those who crucify him. Even at the point of death, in the presence of his torturers and killers, Jesus removes whatever may impede his ability to love them fully.
For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves God’s love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us (Romans 5:6–8).
God’s love—not wrath, not powerlessness—is proved by Jesus’s death. It is a life-giving death, a love-freeing death. This is the love that fills us, the love that sustains the world. This is the love that undergirds the web of relationships, the love which is the core-strand that cannot be broken, that always protects the possibility of reconciliation, if not on this earth, then in the new creation.
Thank you for reading. I hope that you find ways this week to strengthen the web of love in your relationships with other people, with God, and with animals and plants around you.
Appendix of Related Quotes
A man who sins acts so as to divide himself, internally or from his fellows or from God. …
In forgiving a sin, he who has been sinned against initiates the exchange that reestablished the bond [between persons]. We forgive once we give up attachment to our wounds.
- Lewis Hyde, The Gift, 58