Mistaken Love

I decided a long time ago that I would rather be loving than right. What I mean is, when I am in doubt, because I am unsure and not completely confident of what I should do, I should err on the side of being loving. To be “right” on a particular matter, but in a non-loving way, is to be wrong altogether.

We are by nature, that is, as created by God, incapable of perfect knowledge or action. That should be indisputable, though some might insist that scripture is clear on what its right. However, does not the witness in the scriptures themselves point to the same tension and elevate love above all else? Is mercy not more than sacrifice? Sacrifice may be “right” but mercy is the greater good.

The reality is that I cannot say “if” I am uncertain, like that only occurs occasionally, but “because” I am uncertain. My finite and fallible nature means that I can always be wrong. This is not about being insincere, but the reality that I am not God and therefore am bound to be mistaken in what I think, maybe a little or perhaps a lot.

In our limited human condition we are not self-sufficient, making trust in God absolutely essential. The right thing to do in every situation, some of which can be very complicated with conflicting possibilities about what is good, is actually impossible to know. The best we can do is attempt what we think seems to be the right thing, and love is always the right thing.

Though certainty is unachievable, thankfully God has not asked me to be right but to be faithful. In other words, out of the self-awareness that I am incapable of absolute clarity, I must be faithful to love as best I understand it. That attempt pleases God, though it will always fall a short of the ideal.

My faithfulness is how I risk doing what seems to be right while putting all my hope in God.That risk will always be in the direction of love while I trust God to forgive my missteps. In the end, I would rather Jesus tell me I was wrong in how I attempted to love rather than I was wrong because I was not was not loving in what I did.

The choice which I have to make is where I risk being mistaken. From Jesus’ new command that we love in imitation of him, it seems that I should choose always the way of love.

To be clear, I cannot know perfectly what love is either. I am not certain about the what it means to love my neighbor, but I do have a sense of what that is about. Jesus loved relentlessly, loving flagrant sinners, fickle disciples, and judgmental opponents. In 1 Corinthians 13 we have very good description of love, but one we still understand less than perfectly and only enact in partial ways.

But I return again to the God’s call that we be faithful in our attempts to love. Our mistaken attempts of love seem to be far preferable to a pharisaical stance, the way of striving to be right about everything without love as the central focus.

The only ones who had real trouble with Jesus were the religious leaders of his day, who, certain that they knew clearly what was right, felt their mistreatment of “sinners” was justified. Condemnation, exclusion, impossible demands, and lack of loving interaction were the fruits of their religious confidence. How often has this been repeated in the history of the church?

In my inability to know for certain, or even live out well what I do know, I choose to love recklessly. In the end, I believe God will be pleased with my mistaken love.