Always a Choice

By Heather Janules

Dried and dark green leaves with brighter green, heart-shaped leaves overlaid.

In the early days of my ministry, there was a popular blogger, a progressive Christian minister writing anonymously under the name “Real Live Preacher.” We now know that RLP was Gordon Atkinson. Rev. Atkinson wrote about ministry with such insight and candor that his posts often nourished me in such a way that I could be more present with my congregation.

While many of his posts stand the test of time, there is one I return to again and again: “The Preacher is Tired Tonight.” In this post, RLP makes a confession of sorts, that sometimes he feels too emotionally drained to do the work of ministry, that the silence of the church building early Sunday morning before anyone else arrives reminds him of the silence of God.

And, yet, he chooses to show up, drawing from the same internal place he draws from when, as a parent, he chooses to turn left to bring himself and his paycheck home when sometimes what he really wants to do is turn right.

At the heart of his blog post is a simple statement that serves as the foundation of his decisions to keep showing up: “I believe love is primarily a choice and only sometimes a feeling. If you want to feel love, choose to love and be patient.”

Atkinson’s words about love come to mind this month. It is February after all. And while Valentine’s Day is centered on another flavor of love, it feels right to lift up this kind of love, the love that calls us to act even when the pleasure or outcome of our actions seems distant, absent even. The commitment to “choose to love” time and again, even when it feels like going through motions, may not be celebrated with chocolates and flowers but warrants celebration still.

Anyone who has served in congregational leadership knows this kind of love, sometimes living through an unbalanced ratio of hard work and uncertainty to what feels like vitality or accomplishment. All of us striving to foster vibrant communities or healthy families or inclusive governance practices (like democracy) know this kind of love. There is no feeling of love without those willing to “choose to love,” even in difficult, uncertain and dangerous moments.

February is also Black History Month, affirming generations of brilliance, thriving and resilience in the face of physical, cultural and spiritual annihilation. For all of us, Black freedom movements teach us how to love the world we believe could be, through our actions in the world as it is.

Unitarian Universalists place “love at the center” of our lives and our values. This month, I invite us to pay attention to the times when you “choose to love” even in the midst of silence, of grief over so much that is lost, of the unknown. I invite us to bear witness to this quiet, often invisible kind of loving in others that, with a little focus, is all around us. I invite us to commit further to our choice to love the world, despite and because of its harshness.

We are all tired tonight. Before the dawn of a new day, let’s keep choosing to love.