It’s a familiar scene by now to anyone who is a frequent viewer of talent shows. The nervous singer shuffles on stage, can barely respond to the judge’s questions, but when they open their mouths and begin to sing they are somehow transformed. Powerful and deeply felt emotions raise them up as the audience stands and cheers them on.
What made this one different from the rest was a small thing. The singer was a working-class chap with a sweet tenor voice who chose the well-known Puccini aria, Nessun Dorma. It’s a showy piece that affords a singer with the depth of a Pavarotti stunning mounts to climb and this fellow did despite the fact he was shaking with nervous energy.
None of that caught my attention. What stopped me in my tracks were the close ups of two of his friends sitting in the audience cheering him on. These two chaps were not just cheering, they were with him in every sense. They hung on each note—silently mouthing the words, and their hands hovered in the air as they expressed their hope and encouragement that their friend would not stumble. As the last note hung in the air, brilliantly sung, both men turned to each other and tears were coursing down their faces.
I admit it, I cried too. To see these two display their love in this way was extraordinary. The joy on their faces told a story of their friendship and the pride they felt at their friend’s accomplishment. It’s not every day you see such scenes—the love of friends for one another and at the risk of being a bit sexist it isn’t something you see often among men. Sometimes we recognize this between a father and son, between men who have shared the grim trials of battle, and sadly at funerals when we count one of our own who has fallen. But is rare to see two men reduced to such a display of emotion out of their hope that their friend would fulfill his life’s dreams. It reminded me that when we place others ahead of ourselves—we find our best selves.
Unlike many other languages, we have only one word for Love. The nuances of romantic love versus brotherly love, love of country or family and so on are expressed through intonation and context. But every expression of love begins and ends with the act of placing another’s happiness ahead of our own. That’s what I saw on the faces of these two men.
It’s the same with God, or if you prefer, that higher being within us. When we place that being ahead of ourselves, when we love without limit we come as close to shedding our human skins as we possibly can. That must be the reason we are encouraged to love our neighbors as ourselves—to love others, even perfect strangers, and yes, even those with whom we profoundly disagree, without reservation.
Nothing about this is easy. In fact, the easy route is to give in to our desire to distance ourselves from others, to find fault, to shun, label, or dismiss those with whom we have no common cause. It’s easier, but we know it cannot take us anywhere good. On the contrary, if loving another ahead of ourselves summons our best selves—dismissing others brings out our worst.
Whether or not you subscribe to the belief that God so loved us that he became as one of us, suffered as we do and worse, and sacrificed himself for us, you do know in your heart that loving cannot have limits. The choice is ours to make every single day. To love without limitations, to love even those we find it hard to tolerate, to love unselfishly and fully or to turn inward.
If you want to know what darkness is, want to know what Hell might feel like—there it is, a place without love. To live cut off from others, unable to feel and enjoy what they do, for eternity, that truly is Hell.
I don’t know about you, but today, I’m going to find someone to cheer for, how about you?