A few weeks ago, Bryan and I sat around a table with former homeless women and men – some of whom had been incarcerated, some of whom had been sex trafficked, all of whom are now working at the organization where we were sitting.  We worked together on what a new jobs program for the neighborhood should be.  We were there to learn – childcare during training is crucial; an opportunity to work during training is important since daily expenses don’t take a hiatus; people will feel ashamed of their clothes and lack of comfort with reading and numbers – and no one wants to feel ashamed; the first question many will have is whether the jobs will turn them down because of priors…

Then, about two hours in, we turned to recruiting and one woman quickly said to our advisory group, “Well, you sure shouldn’t be the ones to go door to door on your own!” Everyone laughed out loud.  And then she added, “Don’t worry. We’ll help you recruit everyone, and you can come with us.” And in that moment, two things hit me: in serving and loving our neighbors, we need to learn so much more than substance – we need to learn the how. And there are always guides available if you look for them – even for learning the how.

Why do we treat the act of loving our fellow human beings as if it were an innate ability, as if we are born knowing how to love each other well? In his new book, The Great Spiritual Migration, Brian McLaren presents an idea that is powerfully simple and true, and at the same time rather new to me: we must learn how to love our fellow human beings well. We (try to) learn to parent, and we consume reams of books to do so. We learn our professions, how to cook, refinements to natural talents, how to play a sport… Why do we not think about the pedagogy of learning how to love others?  From practicing the discipline of showing up, to learning how to listen, to ritualizing the reflections we need to energize us, to finding our voice to articulate our love for our fellow humans in daily interactions, to building communities to sustain us, and so much more… there is so much to learn.

This concept has all sorts of implications, which I am enjoying thinking through and beginning to develop.  Let me know if you want to join the conversation.  In the meantime, here are four poems that would be required reading in the syllabus for “Learning How to Love Our Fellow Human Beings 101”.  In their hope, history, energy, peace, and awe, they overflow on this most precious of subjects.  Interestingly, they all also are centered around the metaphor of day – from greeting the morning to praying at sunset – which seems particularly appropriate for the New Year.  Enjoy.  (Excerpts here, with links to the full poems – worth every line)

On the Pulse of Morning: An Inaurgural Poem, by Maya Angelou

The final stanza of this sweeping, powerful poem:

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister’s eyes, into
Your brother’s face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

On the Pulse of Morning

I thank You God for most this amazing, by E.E. Cummings

An excerpt from the awe-filled, waterfall of a first stanza:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day… for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

I thank You God for most this amazing

The Gates of Hope, by Rev. Victoria Safford

The opening of this beautiful recommendation for what love’s voice should sound like:

Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope—
Not the prudent gates of Optimism,
Which are somewhat narrower.

Not the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense;
Nor the strident gates of Self-Righteousness,
Which creak on shrill and angry hinges
(People cannot hear us there; they cannot pass through)
Nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of
“Everything is gonna’ be all right.”

The Gates of Hope

Praying the Sunset Prayer, by Jacob Glatstein, translated by Ruth Whitman

From the opening stanza, peacefully ritualizing reflection at the end of the day:

I’ll let you in on a secret
about how one should pray the sunset prayer.
It’s a juicy bit of praying,
like strolling on grass,
nobody’s chasing you, nobody hurries you.
You walk toward your Creator
with gifts in pure, empty hands.

Praying the Sunset Prayer