A New Spin on an Old Sonnet

In her Sonnet 43, famed poetess Elizabeth Barrett Browning penned these immortal words.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

 my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight 

for the ends of being and ideal grace. 

I love thee to the level of every day’s 

 most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. 

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. 

 I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

 I love thee with the passion put to use

 in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

 I love thee with a love I seemed to lose 

with my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

 smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

 I shall but love thee better after death.

I’ve always been intrigued by the first line: “How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.”  Call it “a love inventory,” the writer finds it helpful to make a list of the “hows” of the relationship, rather than the “whys”.   She chooses not to focus on the qualities of the object of her love, but rather the many ways she expresses her devotion.  I find that interesting.  If I’ve learned anything in 40 plus years of marriage to the same person, it’s that what really matters is if she feels loved, not merely that I’ve made an attempt. 

To put it into the context of the Body of Christ, it is vastly more important that our love languages toward one another be both understood and mutually appreciated.  For me to think I’ve loved you by giving you a hug or a handshake instead of a listening ear might allow me to check a box for connection with you, but can leave you feeling unheard or uncared for.  So where do we start? 

How about me being a bit self-disclosing with you about how you can love me?  Call it good old fashioned 21st century narcissism or, hopefully, more accurately a genuine attempt to begin the discussion of how we can, as Peter writes in the New Testament, “love each other deeply.” Since I can’t speak for you, let me initiate the deepening of our relationship by letting you know how best to communicate that I matter to you.  In my own spin on Ms. Browning’s famous sonnet (14 line poem, remember), here’s a quick list off the top of my head. Hopefully, some of my ideas may have universal resonance, but others may just be what is helpful to me.  I like to call it, “How do you love me?”  Here goes:

You know my name. 

 You are present in my life.

You are for me. 

You want me to succeed.

You care about what is going on in the world behind my public presentation. 

 You listen to me. 

 You look for Jesus in me. 

You seek to protect me (physically, emotionally, relationally, spiritually, even my reputation). 

You really care. 

You point me to Christ. 

You speak truth into my life.

You forgive me when I’m wrong—even if it takes me awhile to figure it out. 

What you say about me to others (in my absence) enlarges their view of me rather than diminishing it. 

You pray for me.

Not exactly “sonnet quality” to be sure, but I think you get the point.  To love each other deeply in the body of Christ sometimes expresses itself in encouragement, in really listening to each other, or in seeking to genuinely empathize with another’s situation or journey.  At other times, though, it moves beyond just trying to make someone feel better for a moment and actually requires speaking hard words or expressing tough love.  Proverbs 27: 6 says: “Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.” 

As a community, let’s resolve to discovering what best communicates love and affection for one another, using as our model and source of power the’ Friend who sticks closer than a brother.’  Jesus was the quintessential friend and could only love one way—deeply and to the uttermost.  Let’s follow Him.  Let others count the ways.

tad