To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
- C. S. Lewis
This quote taught me volumes about life. Yes, the scripture is peppered with this same concept - but, like anything in life, sometimes you can only understand things when they are put in a certain way, at a certain time, by a certain person.
My heart will become unbreakable and impenetrable without freely loving others. If I ignore the reality of feeling - oh, the cold-hearted person I would become. If I was afraid to be honest - oh, the friends I would deceive and lose. If I was afraid of being hurt - oh, the dreams that would never become reality and the bitterness I would cultivate against the world. I am a dead soul in a living body without choosing to love and being vulnerable. Stone and ice. Eternally unbreakable.
And, my heart will be irredeemable if I choose not to love - choose to not be vulnerable. Christian theology deeply echoes loving, communal relationships. Not just toward our neighbor, but toward God as well. After all, isn’t the Trinity a relational reality? The Father of the Son, the Son of the Father, the Spirit eternally proceeding from the Father... all interconnected, and all loving the Other in eternal communion and oneness. Can I really be saved if I choose not to be vulnerable and ignore that beautiful revelation of the Trinity? Oh, certainly not.. I will, indeed, be irredeemable.