Sabbath Devotional :: Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself

*Image: Gabriel Dawe’s Plexus No. 29, BYU Art Museum, in the manner of Chieko Okazaki’s prism analogy*

A few years ago I had an impactful epiphany, a shift in how I was thinking about one of the core passages of Christ’s gospel and ministry:

“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matthew 22:37–39).

When Christ counsels us to “love thy neighbor as thyself,” we rightfully often focus on what loving our neighbor would mean, relative to how (or how much) we love ourselves. He urges us to consider others’ needs alongside our own, to serve them and love them as we would desire to be served and loved, as if they were us. There is beautiful truth there — and, like many of Christ’s teachings, might there be another layered meaning to those words?

At the time I had been struggling in a new assignment, one that directly followed the stellar accomplishments of someone who had long held the role before me. How on earth could I measure up to her energy and quick wit and deep experience? I felt so awkward and deficient compared to my much-loved predecessor. I wasn’t sure how to reach the people I meant to support and serve, so as challenges and projects emerged, I tried to think: what would she do? Then one morning that last phrase of the scripture came to my mind: love thy neighbour as thyself. Love them and serve them in this role and do it as thyself, as Annie. That’s the assignment.

Thomas Merton, the Christ-centered Trappist monk who wrote extensively on peace and faith in action famously said, “We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone — we find it with another.” He also said, “For me, to be a saint means to be myself.” These two statements beautifully encapsulate this reading of the second great commandment and highlight the holy tension between others and self, both of them created by God and made more divine through love.

Lowell Bennion, the LDS humanitarian and first director of the University of Utah Institute of Religion, reminds us of this holy tension, too:

“Make something, do something — with your hands, with your imagination, with your mind, with your soul, with your fellowman. Do something in their interest, something consistent with integrity and love and good reason, good sense. But, granted these other values, cut loose. Be yourself, be an individual, express yourself. Don’t be a rubber stamp. God isn’t that way. God is free, creator, full of love. We can be these, too, I think, to satisfy our inner nature.”

There is such power in showing up as you are, who you are, even in imperfections or weaknesses. I was reminded of this last week as I prepared to teach a Sunday School lesson about the Book of Mormon heroine Abish. Abish is a servant woman in the court of King and Queen Lamoni who is the only person still standing when everyone else is overcome and prostrate on the ground:

“Abish. . . having been converted unto the Lord for many years, on account of a remarkable vision of her father — Thus, having been converted to the Lord, and never having made it known, therefore, when she saw that [everyone] lay prostrate upon the earth, she knew that it was the power of God; and supposing that this opportunity, by making known unto the people what had happened among them, that by beholding this scene it would cause them to believe in the power of God, therefore she ran forth from house to house, making it known unto the people.” (Alma 19:16-17)

As Kylie Turley reminded us in her stellar presentation at the 2023 MWEG Spring Conference, Abish was uniquely able to connect her Lamanite community to God and essentially alter the trajectory of her people precisely because of who she was — patient, faithful, humble, quiet, observant, quick, brave, emotional. She loved her neighbors, and did it as herself.

Even her perceived lowly societal status (in power, gender, and wealth) meant that those who came in response to her invitation did so by choice rather than by powerful decree or force. Abish’s humble invitation led to many changed hearts. This kind of conversion by personal witness and choice respects individual agency and ultimately, in this case, led to the establishment of the peaceful community of the Anti-Nephi-Lehies who chose to live out their days with hearts at peace, burying their weapons and covenanting to never go to war again. What a legacy!

As we endeavor to follow God’s will for us — which includes an emphasis on loving our neighbour — using our unique parts of our selves in those efforts can be a joyful part of the assignment.

Chieko Okazaki, former counselor in the General Relief Society presidency, embodied this on so many levels. She said:

“Have you ever had the feeling that you’re the odd one, the different one? Maybe even too odd or different for this church? The truth is that you’re not odd — you’re special. When white light falls on a wall, it makes a white wall. But when it passes through a prism, that same light makes a rainbow on the wall. . . [Like God during creation, I’d like to say] ‘Let there be light.’ All kinds of light! Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet light. We need our differences. . . Have the spiritual independence to be a Mormon — the best Mormon you can — in your own way. Not the bishop’s way. Not the Relief Society president’s way. Your way” (from her book Lighten Up!).

Have you had an experience where someone’s unique self was just what you needed?

How have you been inspired by witnessing someone’s joy in showing up as they are?

How can we build our own abilities to do this better?

What can we do in wards and communities to reinforce the value of loving our neighbors while showing up uniquely as ourselves?