Love Bears All Things
David Plaut
The following witness piece was delivered at a men’s retreat in the Archdiocese of Baltimore. A discretionary note that the author mentions a friend’s attempt to end his own life.
For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision has any value. The only thing that counts is faith that works through love. —Galatians 5:6
I’d like to talk about my journey from agnostic Jew to becoming a Catholic, the miracles I experienced along the way, and my search for the understanding of what Love is, my search for understanding about how God can Love a sinner. I’ll start with a little family background, then pick up my story when I was 12 years old preparing for my Bar Mitzvah, move forward to the present, jump back to when I was 9 for a “little” added perspective, and finish up with the present.
A little about my family background. My father’s family are German Jews, they fled Germany in 1939 when my father was 13 years old. My great grandfather and his son, my grandfather, were shop keepers in a small town. The Nazis confiscated their store. They came to the U.S. with very little. They lost much, including extended family members. They never really talked about it much but I saw the evidence of the Holocaust with my own eyes by the serial numbers tattooed on the arms of the friends of my grandmother and great aunt.
My mother was a fair-skinned, redheaded orphan. She lived with an Italian Catholic foster family. She knows nothing of her parents and does not even have a birth certificate. Her foster family never adopted her, she was the oldest of five children in the household. She never felt like a part of the family and felt that she was only there to assist with housework and child care. To escape she married young and had my brother Tom with her first husband. When Tom does the math with the few facts she has given us he estimates that my mother was 17 when she married. When I do the math I come up with 14. Like my father’s family she too escaped by her own wits.
This first marriage lasted maybe five years. She then took my half brother and married another man, my father. I was born within a year of their marriage.
Growing up I was raised Jewish. My family was like a Christmas and Easter Catholic family, not too religious although we did celebrate Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Chanukah. I did not believe in God. I did not disbelieve in God I just did not know what the truth was. I guess that made me an agnostic.
I’m a show-me person, a scientific and logical thinker. For me to believe in God you’d have to prove it to me. Judaism puts a lot of focus on the Ten Commandments. These made perfect sense to me, straightforward, sensible, logical rules. So sensible they could have been written by a committee and that is what I assumed was their true origin.
But something did not add up to my logical mind. I’d heard that God Loves everyone. I knew that this could not be true. How could God love Adolph Hitler? That is just not possible. Therefore, if God Loves everyone and God does not love Adolph Hitler then there is no God. The logic is wrong, it makes no sense. If God loves everyone why did my family suffer so? Both my mother and my father. I saw no love there; certainly no God. I assumed, well if there really is such a thing as God he did not love me because I was suffering. If this was love I wanted no part of it.
One day my father took me to the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia. This is a very cool science museum and they had an exhibit about the nature of the universe. I asked my father, “Do you believe God created the universe?” and he answered yes. I asked, “How do you know that?” and he said because that was how he was raised and that was what he always believed. Great, I thought, that helps me not one bit.
While preparing for my Bar Mitzvah, I asked the rabbi how he knew God existed. “Look at the birds and the trees; this is part of God’s creation.” Okay, I thought, that is what everybody says. This proves nothing to me. But anyway, I got Bar Mitzvahed and received a “Hebrew bible”1 which I kept in my room. I tried reading it, thinking it is a book; you have to start at the beginning and read it to the end. The first page was interesting. Once it got into the begats it became too tedious. I never got past that. So there the bible sat, in my room, untouched for a long time.
Flash forward to my late teens. I came home terribly upset; a girl had dumped me. I really liked her. She was the first girlfriend I had that I liked as more than just a date. I was beside myself. If you’ve ever been a jilted teenager you know what I felt, it was intense like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I did not know what to do. The term “support system” had not even been coined yet. I did not have much of a support system in today’s terms. I saw the bible sitting there and I picked it up and opened it to a random page. I started to read and I instantly felt relieved of my pain. I don’t mean I read something nice, meditated on it, and resolved my pain. No, this was like a light switch was flicked. It was instant. I have no idea what I read but I remember clearly the change that came over me. After I thought about it I decided, okay, maybe, maybe there is such a thing as God. I had no other explanation for what had happened. I’d have to keep a more open mind about this subject.
This was my first miracle although I did not think of it as a miracle at the time—just a mystery that made no sense whatsoever.
Flash forward to my college campus at UMBC—on a state college of all things. I’m walking across the campus and there was this girl handing out bibles. She held one out to me and I took it, not because I wanted it but because I thought it would be rude to turn down a bible. This was a Good News Bible, part two to the bible I’d received when I was 13. I set it on my bedside stand and left it there.
One day, I don’t really remember why, I think I was upset, and again I turned to the bible, I picked it up, the new one, the second edition, got down on my knees beside my bed, opened the bible to a random page, and found a very nice prayer. I had turned right to it. I did not read what came before or after but I thought, Wow, that is a nice prayer—it kind of covers all of the bases, it was short, seemed like a “guy kind of prayer” in that there was nothing wish-washy about it. It was straightforward and direct and most importantly it did not mention Jesus. Remember I was still a Jew and while I might accept that there is a God I most certainly did not want anything to do with Jesus. I did not even really believe in God yet but I was openminded and what the heck, it was a good prayer that seemed to have intrinsic value whether or not there is a God. Kind of like the Ten Commandments.
So, amazingly, I memorized this prayer and prayed it every night before bed for many years. This was my second miracle although I still did not know it at the time. I’ll come back to this miracle later as I did not recognize it for what it was until many years later, after I was married.
Miracle number three… this one I recognized for what it was. This one convinced me that there is a God—beyond a shadow of doubt. I’d had a friend my age. We’ll call him Earl. Earl was a troubled young man, depressed off and on and on antidepressants. He’d made at least two suicide attempts in the past and I told him, “You do anything like that around me and I’ll let you die. If that is what you want I’m not going to stop you.” Now understand, I was about 20, had no idea about suicidal gestures or cries for help or any of that stuff. I took his actions at face value and told him how I would react.
One day, I came home to find Earl in my bed, an empty bottle of pills on the bedside stand. I tried to wake Earl. I could not; I shook him, I screamed at him. Nothing. He was still alive but he did not look good. I was beside myself once again. I did not know what to do. I’d told him if he tried anything like this around me I’d let him die. I am a man of my word. I can’t go back on my word can I? The other side of me said I could not stand by and watch my friend die. It was a dilemma, I was stuck. I felt equally intensely about either direction I could turn. I did not know what to do. For whatever reason, don’t know, I did not really have time to think about it… I dropped to my knees, beside my bed, beside my friend who lay dying before me. God, I said, I don’t know what to do, tell me what to do. I heard a voice in my head. This was not my internal voice. It was not the nagging voice of my father or grandmother or any voice I’d ever heard. It was a man’s voice, just as clear as though he was standing in front of me. The voice said three words, not words that would have occurred to me. “Life is Sacred.” I stood up and called 911 with no hesitation.
Long story short, Earl got his stomach pumped, survived, got more psychological treatment, etc., etc., but this story is not about Earl. I thought about what had happened. There was no doubt in my mind that I’d heard the voice of God. I could no longer deny that there is such a thing as God. I was okay with this, not excited, just accepting. This was just a fact I had to accept.
Flash forward a few more years. I’d met Kate, fallen in love, gotten married. Why Kate would marry a Jew who did not even attend synagogue is beyond me. Kate was a fairly religious Catholic. I did not care that she was Catholic, I only cared that she believed in God, that was good enough for me and she’s since told me she felt likewise about me.
Forward a few more years, Kate asked me to come to church with her. I started to attend Sacred Heart of Glyndon, not regularly but occasionally. I sort of listened to the proceedings. The idea of Jesus still made me uncomfortable but I listened anyway. Most of the time I’d zone out; I treated it like quiet time but I started to notice something: there was that prayer that I had prayed for years every night beside my bed. Humphh, I thought. I did not know Catholics used that prayer. It did not mention Jesus. I eventually got curious. Where in the bible was this prayer? It had to be Old Testament because there was no mention of Jesus or Mary or any of that Catholic stuff. Remember, I’d memorized just that one prayer, I did not know where it was in the bible, what came before or after. Somehow, I found it, I don’t remember whether I found it on my own or with Kate’s help, it does not really matter. I read the paragraph just before the prayer for the first time. It said, “He was praying in a certain place, and when he ceased, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.’” The prayer was the Lord’s Prayer.
I realized that Jesus taught me that prayer. There was no other logical explanation. How could I turn randomly to a page in the bible and find this, my first true prayer, memorize it and pray it for years? What are the odds? Therefore, if Jesus taught me that prayer then there must be such a thing as Jesus. I could no longer deny it. It was miracle. I recognized that my first experience with the bible, way back when that girl broke up with me, that too was a miracle.
So I kept going to church. I now thought of myself a Christian. But Catholic? No, those people are crazy. What they do makes no sense. I was still a Jew at heart. Weren’t these people idol worshippers? God of the Old Testament said there is one God; it was right there in the Ten Commandments. But now I knew Jesus existed. How can there be two Gods? It did not make sense. It was like my original argument about how could God Love us all. I knew he could not. It did not make sense, it just did not add up.
The next miracle is something you have all experienced although you might not see it as a miracle because many of you grew up with it. I sat there in Church week after week and listened. I kept hearing the same thing over and over. I did not understand what it was but I wanted it. I began to crave it. “Take this all of you and eat.” I heard this over and over. I was starting to become Catholic. I discussed with Kate getting baptized. We approached Father W. and I asked if he would baptize me. He said he would but would I consider going through the RCIA program and doing it that way. Long story short again… I did the RCIA program and became a Catholic in 2000.
The story is not over yet, I guess it never will be but in particular I stilled struggled with understanding Love both divine and human. Love is something I shy away from, too many strings attached. Too much responsibility. One day last year, just about two weeks before our last retreat, Kate mentioned how much she loves me. Now all of you guys have probably experienced this if you are married. You say something and as you are saying it you realize, as it is coming out of your mouth, that you are going to say the wrong thing. Your wife is not going to like what you say but it is too late, it is already coming off your tongue. I said to Kate, “I love you but I’m very glad you are my friend. You are my best friend and that is more important to me than love.” Uh oh, I thought, she is not going to like this. But it was too late, it was already being converted to sound waves as I thought this. The temperature in the room dropped. I knew it, she was pissed. She said to me that she wants a husband who loves her, not just likes her.
Now it is time for me to back up in my story. I’m 9 years old, a latch-key kid. I come home from school, stick the key in the lock, turn the door handle, open the door. Holy smokes, we’ve been robbed. I looked around the house. About half of the furniture was gone. But something strikes me as odd. Why would a robber take this and not that? Why didn’t they steal the TV? This does not make sense. What has happened?
I don’t remember learning the truth. All I remember is crying myself to sleep, night after night for months. My mother had left me. She divorced my father and left without even saying goodbye to me. If this is love I don’t want any part of it. It caused me intense misery, prolonged misery. Love is too risky an investment. There is too much risk, I thought, in allowing myself to love anyone. I’m not going through this again. Why would I willingly put myself through that? I learned that if you want security love is not the way to get it. For security you have to depend on yourself. You have to hold something back and be ready to run. It worked for my grandparents in Germany and it worked for my mother. That is what I observed, that is what works, that is what makes sense.
So, back to last year, my conversation with Kate. This is where I’m coming from. Yes, I love Kate but it is more important to me that she is my friend because I didn’t put much importance on love. It is easy for me to have Kate as my friend. I trust Kate, I like being with her. Low risk, high yield, the opposite of love in my experience, (Jewish accent) “what's not to like?” I try to explain. Of course I don’t use the words I just said, I’m not that stupid. I know that whatever I say it is going to come back on me. Kate will not let me forget this. But I press on, in for a penny, in for a pound, I think.
“Daniel is a perfect example of what I mean,” I say to her. Daniel is our youngest son. At the time he was 17, a very smart, cocky teenager. Since he became a teenager I’ve found him very difficult to talk to. He always knows everything. I’m lucky to get a single syllable out of him, yet alone a single word. I say to Kate, “Look at Daniel, I love him more than anything, I’d do anything for him, I’d lay down my life for him. But is he my friend? Do I like him? No, I love him but right now I don’t like him. That is very difficult for me. But you… I love you and I like you. I can’t imagine loving you and not liking you. That would be torture. That would be like the relationship I have with my mother. I love her but I don’t like her. You are the greatest joy to me because you are the best friend I’ve ever had.”
I meant sincerely what I said. It was the truth; I was expressing my true feelings. Isn’t that what women want? Us men to express our feelings? I realize not only did she interpret my first statement as “I did not love her” but I just said that I did not like my son, her son. Not only that but I’d just compared my wife to my mother. Could I dig my hole any deeper?
Kate accepted what I said and said she appreciated my honesty but I knew this was going to come back on me.
Two days later, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, Kate throws the bible down in front of me. Uh ohh! Here it comes, I knew it. Not only that, Kate has God on her side. I’m screwed. “Corinthians,” she says. Ugg, I think. This is going to be bad. Corinthians; is there any passage in the bible that is more cliché? More sappy? I’ve heard it over and over. We all have. You hear it at weddings, it is on greeting cards, Valentine’s day cards, probably Mother’s day cards. It is very lovely but oy, not again! You all know Corinthians 13. Love is patient and kind, etc., etc. It is a list. I’ve heard it so many times. After you get past the first few items it just becomes blah blah blah, yeah, yeah, yeah, heard it before.
I look down at the bible that Kate had just thrown in front of me. A phrase jumps out at me. It is like on a computer screen and the phrase has just been enlarged. “Love bears all things.” I think to myself, how come I’ve never seen that before? What does that mean? And with that thought Understanding explodes in my head like a flower blooming in fast motion. Like an onion, the layers of meaning being peeled away. Suddenly, there in my head is this miracle of understanding of what love means. Love bears all things. I love Daniel, I have to put up with his attitude and my attitude of him not being my friend and all of the work that that entails. This is a great burden. It comes with the love, I can’t separate it.
God Loves us all. If God Loves us all and Love bears all things what does that mean, I think to myself? I have this great expansion of consciousness. If God Loves us all then God Loves Adolph Hitler. Nowhere in the bible does it say God likes us all. It says God Loves us all. Imagine the burden of loving Adolph Hitler. It is more than I could bear, more than I can imagine. All of that pain and suffering and hate that is almost infinite. Six million dead, horrible deaths, entire families dying together. A World War. How can God bear that? This suffering caused by his child Adolph.
Another layer peels away. I said that I love Daniel so much that I would lay down my life for him. That is exactly what God did for us through his sacrifice of his son Jesus. Can you imagine the burden that comes with Loving us all? Not just Adolph Hitler but all of us with our sins that we repeat over and over. Love bears all things. Jesus bore the weight of all of our sins on the Cross.
And then my thoughts came back to me. I bear the weight of the pain my mother caused me because I love her. If I did not love her I would have been happy she left. She was a *****. She constantly yelled at my father, the sweetest man on earth. She yelled at me and my brother. We bore the weight of her anger. It is because of that pain that I finally understand that I love my mother. Because if I did not love her I would not have carried this pain for all of my life.
So that is my story about becoming Catholic and coming to understand God and his Love for us. This miraculous understanding of Love was about two weeks before last year’s retreat but the miracles weren’t over yet. One more little miracle that goes along with this episode of my life. I’m sitting in the retreat last year, the Holy Spirit tells me to share this story and I’m okay with that, I’m excited about it. But I think, How am I going to pick a song? I know this is so trivial as to be almost funny but that is the thought I had. We go into Mass and the music ministry eventually plays a song, a song I love. When I say a song I love I mean I like the tune. I couldn’t tell you the words. I open the hymnal to the song and begin singing. Tears stream down my face, here is the answer to my simple question, not my words but God’s:
(Refrain:)
Deep within, I will plant my law, not on stone, but in your heart.
Follow me; I will bring you back. You will be my own, and I will be your God.(Verses:)
1. I will give you a new heart, a new spirit within you, for I will be your strength.
2. See my face, and see your God, for I will be your hope.
3. Return to me, with all your heart, and I will bring you back.
The Tanakh, or Miqra, is the canonical collection of Hebrew scriptures, including the Torah, the Nevi’im, and the Ketuvim. This is the Old Testament of the Christian bible.