On the Interest in Love

We can take an interest in things for a number of reasons.  We might be interested out of a general desire to learn about the unknown (curiosity); for example, I might pick up a book about the Maori because I know little about New Zealand aboriginal people and have a general desire to learn.  We might attend to something due to an obligation we've accepted (duty); for example, I might read about presidential candidates, even if I hate political wrangling, because I feel a civic responsibility to elect sound leaders.  We might take interest for some anticipated ancillary benefit (mercenary); for example, I may go to a social event at a conference, not because I like to socialize, but in order to make contacts useful to my career.  Or, our interest may be fueled by the pleasure we receive from following or interacting with the object; for example, I may watch every baseball game of my favorite team, due to the strong positive affect I feel from a constructed (if not imagined) sense of group identity (talk about interesting phenomena).

In my current relational theory, love involves taking on the interests of the beloved as one's own (to avoid equivocation, let this be understood to mean being interested in the beloved's well-being).  But which kind of interest?

The interest in love doesn't seem to be curiosity, since love usually implies a kind of familiarity. (In the case of "love at first sight"---the experience of strong affinity at first meeting---I would say that a certain kind of passion overwhelms what one would call mere curiosity.) Nor would many say that an interest from duty alone qualifies, since love implies a certain voluntariness that surpasses obligation. (Arranged marriage and patriotism are interesting cases: If I participate in some civic duty, the act counts as patriotism only if the duty is accompanied by a "love" of country.  In arranged marriage, if I may take on my spouse's interests merely out of marital obligation, one might say I have a kind of love, but this limited kind of love is not nearly as strong as if I am impassioned for my spouse.)  Mercenary interest certainly doesn't count, since I can't take an interest in the well-being of another if I care only for my own personal benefit.  Thus, love must involve interest that is motivated by the pleasure received from following or interacting with that interest (namely, the well-being of the beloved).

Selfless love, then, does not imply that there is absolutely no personal benefit.  Rather, the personal benefit is nothing other than enjoying the fulfillment of one's desire to see the well-being of the beloved.  In this way, the personal benefit received is predicated on the other, and not centered on oneself, which would turn the interest into something mercenary. There might also be another, stronger kind of selfless love---one in which the lover places the well-being of the beloved above all other personal interests.

This leads to the question: Is love diluted by ancillary interests?  If I take an interest in your well-being, is my love worth less if I also enjoy the fact that you give me a lift whenever I need it?  My inclination is to say no: The fact that I enjoy your generosity and hospitality does not necessarily diminish the fact that I enjoy seeing your well-being.  Indeed, it seems that these positive characteristics or ancillary personal benefits may enhance the enjoyment of the beloved and the associated desire to see the beloved's well-being.  In fact, I wonder if the mechanism of the growth of love in a relationship sometimes (many times?) makes use of these ancillary personal benefits, which then develop into an interest in the beloved's well-being.  The trouble comes when such a development never occurs, or when the ancillary benefits displace the more-important interest in the beloved's well-being.

After God's Own Heart: Love Your Enemies

He testified concerning him: "I have found David son of Jesse a man after my own heart." (Acts 13:22, cf. 1 Sam 13:14)

But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Mat 5:44)

As I was listening to Eric Whitacre's "When David Heard" again this afternoon, I was struck by David's capacity to love even those who would do him harm. Certainly it's well known that David refuses to retaliate against Saul, despite Saul's incessant attempts at David's life (e.g. 1 Sam 24, when David cuts off the corner of Saul's robe in his hiding cave), but this could flow not from love, but merely from a respect for Saul as God's anointed.

Absalom, on the other hand, is another matter altogether.

David's third son Absalom was envious of the royal throne and plotted to usurp David's place. For four years, he flattered courtly visitors and spread self-aggrandizing propaganda to "steal the hearts" of Israel. When the time was right, he gathered sympathizers to declare him king and marched into Jerusalem (2 Sam 15). When David hears that Absalom has died in the ensuing altercation, he is shaken to the core and cries out with profound grief, "O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you--O Absalom, my son, my son!" (2 Sam 18:33)

Unlike Saul, Absalom had not been granted a special status by God that would command David's respect. Moreover, Absalom was jealous and conspired to bring about David's downfall. And yet, although Absalom expressed contempt and hatred toward his father, David never lost sight of the fact that Absalom was still his son. He continued to love him and sought his welfare, even during the height of his rebellion (2 Sam 18:5).

If not for anything else, David manifests the heart of God in this. For, "God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom 5:8). Despite our open rebellion, God looked beyond our contempt for Him, and treating us not as the enemies that we were but as His beloved creation, gave Himself up to pay the fatal penalty of our rebellion in our place so that we may enjoy a reconciled relationship with Him as His children.

And so, like David, like Jesus, let us, too, love those who hate us and would do us harm. For this is the heart of God.

Scratchpad: Motivations to Do Good

To like to do X implies that doing X provides a sense of enjoyment or pleasure. To want to do X because one likes to do X means that doing X is motivated by the joy or pleasure received by doing X. There are certainly many other kinds of motivations for doing something. One might engage in the activity in order to receive financial gain, increase security, inflict pain, achieve social standing, and so on.

Now, if one likes doing something, can one help being motivated to do it by the fact that one likes it? There may certainly be other additional motivations, but I don't think these will somehow "crowd out" the motivation of joy or pleasure, and one can certainly be motivated by a multitude of factors.

But what of doing good? I think one could justifiably say that one has an obligation to do good by definition. That is, a moral act is an act obligated by a moral code, and the moral code defines what is good, which is just another way of saying that the moral code obligates one to do good. To put it one more way, one is obligated to do good for its own sake. But, does this obligation preclude doing good for other additional reasons?

Consider three hypothetical people: the first does good begrudgingly, because he has to but wishing he didn't; the second does good neutrally, without feeling anything for or against the act; the third does good enthusiastically and thus enjoys it (for, is it possible to have enthusiasm for something one doesn't enjoy?). It seems somewhat intuitive to say that the first is less praiseworthy than the other two, and the third more praiseworthy. So, one could say that it's better to like doing good than to do good without liking it. But, one usually wants to do what one likes, so it seems that doing good may also be motivated by the joy or pleasure received by performing the act. After all, "doing good is its own reward"---the reward being the joy received from doing good.

Now, some may recoil at the idea that doing good can be motivated by the pleasure received by performing the act; for, shouldn't good be done for its own sake? And yet, taking joy in doing good (doing good enthusiastically) is better than doing good begrudgingly or neutrally. These two ideas can be reconciled by taking into consideration that doing good can be an expression of love, or it can be motivated by other factors.

Just as in doing good, an enthusiastic loving act is more praiseworthy than one done neutrally or begrudgingly (if such an act could be called loving at all). Thus, one can (and should) take pleasure in loving acts, and one will therefore be motivated in some degree by the joy or pleasure obtained in performing the act. However, the loving act is not motivated solely by the pleasure received, but also by the love (affection, care, concern) one has for the recipient. As such, the motivation for the act is not merely inwardly focused, and thus the act is not selfish.

Similarly, if one does good merely for the pleasure received, without love, one could justifiably be held culpable of a morally reproachable inward focus. So, it isn't the pursuit of pleasure itself that denigrates an otherwise good act, but performing the act without outwardly focused love. As such, a good act may therefore (must therefore) be motivated of itself, by the joy or pleasure received in performing it, and with love for the recipient.

Now, what of other possible motivations? Since doing good ought to entail love, one could approach this question by determining whether loving acts may have additional motivations. Is an act any less loving if there are secondary motivations? My first inclination is to say yes, but the reason for this doesn't seem immediately obvious. Why should other motivations somehow decrease the genuine love expressed by an act? If this is the case, then performing good acts with self-interested motivations could be justifiable provided that the acts are also accompanied by a genuine love for the recipient and the additional desire to perform the acts for their own sake and for the joy or pleasure obtained by doing good.