Love Means Giving
A Simple Question Young married man, here is a simple question. If you ask someone why his love burned out, what will he say? Almost always you will hear the same answer. “The feeling left.” “I don’t know what happened.” “Something just changed.” It is as if love were rain. It comes by itself, it goes by itself, and a person stands off to the side, helpless. But is that true? Is love really something that happens to a person? Or is it something a person does? The Root: Love Comes from Giving Look at the word itself. In Hebrew, the word for love comes from a root that means “give.” Not “receive.” Not “feel.” Give. Most people think it works like this: I give to the one I love. Giving is the fruit of love, the result of it. But the true order is the reverse. You love the one you give to. Sefer HaChinukh, a classic book on the commandments, lays down a simple rule about the human heart: our hearts follow our actions. A person does not act out of what he feels. He feels out of what he does. When you put in your time, your strength and your patience, you plant a piece of yourself inside that other person. What is now inside them is a part of you. And that part, you love. The Parable of the Flame The Song of Songs says of love: “Its sparks are sparks of fire, a flame of Hashem.” Love is a flame. A living fire. Look closely. What is the nature of fire? It cannot stand still. It cannot just wait. It eats, it burns and it spreads, or it goes out. Fire has no middle ground. In Likkutei Torah, a book of his Hasidic talks, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, author of the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, explains the Torah’s words “A fire shall always burn on the altar.” The holy fire needs wood laid on it again and again. It needs daily work and busy hands. Love is exactly the same. The moment you stop feeding it, it does not “stay warm.” It begins to die. It does not die all at once. It dies slowly, ember by ember. Then one day a person looks and says, “The feeling left.” No. The feeling did not leave. It was snuffed out, because you stopped bringing wood. The Lesson: Check Your Hands Here is a great new insight: the whole responsibility rests on the giver. The Tanya explains, in one of its letters, that giving creates a real bond. This includes charity, effort, and giving of yourself to another. Through it the giver becomes truly attached to the one he gives to. This is more than “the heart being drawn.” Giving plants a piece of the giver’s very essence inside the one who receives. That is why the bond loosens the moment the giving stops. It is not because the other person changed. It is because you stopped planting yourself inside them. So when the feeling cools, do not ask, “What happened to us?” Ask, “What happened to my hands?” Check your hands. How long has it been since you gave some warmth? How many weeks since you put anything in? The “chemistry” did not run out. You cut off the supply of wood.
Putting It into Practice
This week, choose one thing to give. Give it to your wife, to a friend, or to your son. Do not give it because you “feel like it,” or because you “felt love.” Give it because you now know that giving creates love. It does not express it. The fire did not go out. It was waiting for wood.
Questions and answers
Q: Why do people say their love burned out, and is love really something that just happens to them?
Rabbi Landau answers: Young married man, here is a simple question. If you ask someone why his love burned out, what will he say? Almost always you will hear the same answer. “The feeling left.” “I don’t know what happened.” “Something just changed.” It is as if love were rain. It comes by itself, it goes by itself, and a person stands off to the side, helpless. But is that true? Is love really something that happens to a person? Or is it something a person does?
Q: Does giving come from love, or does love come from giving?
Rabbi Landau answers: Look at the word itself. In Hebrew, the word for love comes from a root that means “give.” Not “receive.” Not “feel.” Give. Most people think it works like this: I give to the one I love. Giving is the fruit of love, the result of it. But the true order is the reverse. You love the one you give to. Sefer HaChinukh, a classic book on the commandments, lays down a simple rule about the human heart: our hearts follow our actions. A person does not act out of what he feels. He feels out of what he does. When you put in your time, your strength and your patience, you plant a piece of yourself inside that other person. What is now inside them is a part of you.
Q: What does the Song of Songs' image of love as a flame teach about keeping love alive?
Rabbi Landau answers: The Song of Songs says of love: “Its sparks are sparks of fire, a flame of Hashem.” Love is a flame. A living fire. Look closely. What is the nature of fire? It cannot stand still. It cannot just wait. It eats, it burns and it spreads, or it goes out. Fire has no middle ground. In Likkutei Torah, a book of his Hasidic talks, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, author of the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, explains the Torah’s words “A fire shall always burn on the altar.” The holy fire needs wood laid on it again and again. It needs daily work and busy hands. Love is exactly the same. The moment you stop feeding it, it does not “stay warm.” It begins to die.
Q: According to the Tanya, how does giving create a real bond between the giver and the receiver?
Rabbi Landau answers: Here is a great new insight: the whole responsibility rests on the giver. The Tanya explains, in one of its letters, that giving creates a real bond. This includes charity, effort, and giving of yourself to another. Through it the giver becomes truly attached to the one he gives to. This is more than “the heart being drawn.” Giving plants a piece of the giver’s very essence inside the one who receives. That is why the bond loosens the moment the giving stops. It is not because the other person changed. It is because you stopped planting yourself inside them. So when the feeling cools, do not ask, “What happened to us?” Ask, “What happened to my hands?” Check your hands.
Q: What can a young married man do this week to rekindle love?
Rabbi Landau answers: This week, choose one thing to give. Give it to your wife, to a friend, or to your son. Do not give it because you “feel like it,” or because you “felt love.” Give it because you now know that giving creates love. It does not express it. The fire did not go out. It was waiting for wood.