MARIAN FORTIER JOHNSON: Reflecting on love and others views of it


I always admired the intelligence and gifts of Carl Sagan and Marilyn vos Savant. However, I have to wonder about their beliefs.

Marilyn says she finds the source of moral authority in the principles of history instead of “where most people find the source, in religion”. Seems that she does not believe in the God of my mothers and fathers and me. History is “His Story” and He is the source of religion.

Carl believed in the “transforming power of love”. Seems that he did not believe in the God of my mother and father and me. God IS love, love transforms. History informs us how people did or did not follow God and His plan for human creatures whom He made in His “image and likeness”. God placed in human hearts a longing for love, a longing for God Himself.

Love is for the purposes of relationships, vertical and horizontal. Vertical as in our relationship to God, horizontal as in our relationships with others.

Psychologists claim that people have two basic needs: to love and to be loved. Christianity tells us that we must first be loved before we are capable of loving, as in: we love because He first loved us.

Real love is a gift of God, poured into willing hearts by God The Holy Spirit. The key to having God’s love is actually accepting God’s love. The Holy Spirit goes where He is invited. St. Augustine said, “God loves each one of us as if there were only one of us.”

Sometimes we balk at paying the price for love. Love costs us our pride, sometimes our priorities, control over others, our money or our time.

Happily, God’s love for us is unconditional. It is based on who we are, not on what we do or don’t do. God’s love is eternal. When our mortal bodies are “planted” His love transforms us into heavenly bodies. True transformation by love!

Everyone has an equal chance to develop love or other spiritual values, no matter your money, beauty, brains or popularity.

Love in a family can be contagious. An old Persian fable says: One day a wanderer found a piece of clay so redolent of perfume it scented all the room. “What art thou” was the quick demand; “Art thou some gem of Samarcand? Or Spikenard rare in rich disguise or other costly merchandise?”

“Nay, I am but a piece of clay.” “Then whence this wondrous sweetness, pray?” “Friend, if the secret I disclose, I have been dwelling with the rose.”

Marian Fortier Johnson


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