Love Greater Than Diamonds

     I wanted to talk today about the four levels of interaction—motivations for how we treat people. I heard one of my friends say something similar to this recently, but I've had this list floating around in my head for a long time. Far from making me special or more innovative, I think that just shows how God can and does inspire many people with the same ideas and understanding so we can all reach out to one another and lift each other up. There are many Gospel truths that haven't occurred to me yet, but I know that my friends, family, classmates, etc. are brimming with insights that could change my life. Be it a little or a lot, we all have something to share, and we owe it to each other. So here are the four levels of love for our neighbor. This is my own list and not necessarily doctrine, but I've seen wonderful things as I try to live it, and I know you will, too.
      1. The Golden Rule. We all know this one. Treat others the way you want to be treated. It's a good philosophy. Christ even taught His early disciples, "whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them" (Matthew 7:12). If we act this way, we'll be far less judgmental, more understanding, more patient, more loving, etc. We'll communicate better, and we'll seek to see somebody else's side of things. But there's a problem (well, there's many): first, we can be very hard on ourselves, and what we say to ourselves in the way we say it may not be what people need to hear. I see this folly when I realize that I'm a very direct person and like to say things exactly the way I see them. They're open to debate, and I genuinely love discussing them respectfully with other people. But not everyone's like that, and when I state my opinions so forcefully (even though that's how I want people to talk to me), they get scared to disagree and generally defensive. I've offended a lot of people by speaking directly—exactly the way I want them to talk to me. The other problem is that we all speak a different love language. I hadn't heard of this until my Church mission in Chile, but there are five main ways that people express affection (not just romantically) and receive it. The five are: physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gift giving. Everyone has a primary love language and a few elements of the others. I'm very much a physical touch kind of guy. When I want to show sincerity, I touch people's arms while I speak. For me, hugging and holding hands communicates far more to a girl than actual words. And for guys, my favorite way to tell them that I care about them is to give them massages or reassuringly put my hand on their knee when I tell them they're awesome. I love touching people. Now, that's mainly because that's how I want them to express love to me—how I want to be treated. But can't you easily see how there will be a disconnect in a relationship if I treat a gift-giver like a physical toucher? She won't understand what I'm communicating, just as I won't fully grasp her meaning if she knits or crochets me a beanie. And thus we get to step two.
      2. The Platinum Rule. From here on out, this is my opinion no más. But the Platinum Rule is to treat others the way they want to be treated. What is love if not selfless? It's about meeting the needs of the other person. I've definitely seen the benefits of this one, especially with my best friend, Conrad. He is the most Words of Affirmation person I have ever met. Over the years, I've realized that when he gives me these long, heartfelt, motivational speeches, it's the highest expression of love he can possibly give me. I'm touched, but I don't feel it as much as I think he means it. Likewise, when I give him a hug, lean my head on his shoulder, or jokingly ask if he'd like to cuddle, although I don't know any higher way to say "I love you" to my best friend, it's rather uncomfortable for him. But one day it just occurred to me that I was taking it the wrong way. If Conrad expressed his love through words, then that meant that he wasn't going to understand my love for him until I used words. I'm trying to get a lot better at that now, listening to what he has to say and instead of just saying "I think you're right" or "good job," I tell him every detail of what I liked about his Elders Quorum lesson (a class in church) or exactly why I thought breaking up with his girlfriend was a good decision and how proud I am of him for the hard thing he's done. He lights up like a child's eyes in a toy store when I tell him that stuff. I've always felt that love for him, but I prefer to express those feelings through other, quicker means. Unfortunately, the message goes unreceived, so it's essentially useless. Conrad has been doing the same thing. I don't remember exactly what had happened, but the other day I was having an incredibly difficult time. It probably had something to do with a girl. The entire world was conspiring against me, and I was ticked. Normally I get depressed and cry and feel sorry for myself, but this day I was fighting back tears and trying to act tough. I was angry and grimacing, and it just wasn't the best of days. I vented to Conrad while I put away laundry, and after a while, Conrad stood up, crossed the room with his arms wide, and gave me a hug. He told me more in those ten seconds through that action than he could have in ten minutes with his words. I don't know if he knows how much he communicated, but that's the way it registers for me. So much higher than treating others the way you want to be treated is treating them the way they want to be treated. But again, there's a problem. Some people are really down on themselves and don't feel like they deserve much. Others self-aggrandize and want to be worshiped. I could say, then, that you should treat people the way they deserve to be treated, but some people deserve a kick in the pants, to be honest. That's obviously not a good idea (most of the time). So that's where step three comes in.
      3. The Diamond Rule. Treat others as if they were the Savior. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me" (Matthew 25:40) I asked myself these questions a lot as a missionary: what if you saw the drunk people in the streets as if they were Christ? How would you react to your companion if he were the Lord? What would you do differently if you called your Savior every Sunday night to give Him a weekly report of your labors and the people you're teaching? Now that I'm back in school, would I get so mad about a low grade if my professor were Christ? Would I trust my partners in group projects more if they were my Redeemer? How would it affect the way I study? Date? Work? Play sports? It's obvious that everything would be different. We'd see trials as the growth experiences that they are—tests designed to make us better. We'd see people as sincere and honest; we'd trust each other more. We wouldn't be so upset when they took forever in the bathroom or had to cancel because something else came up. This is the level that I believe only some of us achieve on our very best days. I began to see drunk people the way Christ saw them, but only once or twice did I actually feel like I was ministering to the Savior. I developed Christlike love for those I taught, but it was hard to treat them with the same respect and gratitude that we reserve for Christ. Obviously, they haven't done for us what He did, but that shouldn't matter according to Him. We are all equal, and He includes Himself in that, no matter how much better than us we know He is. But even this rule isn't enough. Think about it: we're jerks to Christ sometimes. We spit in His face. We strike His face with an open palm. Eveme>ry time we sin, we cause Him more pain, and that generally doesn't even cross our minds when we do it. He sweat great drops of blood for every single one of us. We all cause Him inexplicable suffering. "He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not" (Isaiah 53:3). Isn't that so sad? I die inside when I read these words. But isn't that exactly what we do? I hate myself for it every time I think about it. But that's at least how I treat Him from time to time, too ashamed to follow His teachings, embarrassed about what "other people" will think. If I were to truly treat people the way I treat the Savior, I would hit, ignore, insult, and deceive every single one of them. So that's why we have step 4. Thanks for hanging in there.
      4. A New Commandment. Notice that this one isn't just a rule like the others. "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another" (John 13:34). Can we even comprehend how much Christ loves us? Can we make sense of it? Think about everything I just said in the previous paragraph, and now ponder how much He must care about us to go through with the Atonement, to call us kings and queens, and to repeatedly tell us that He will not leave us comfortless. I came to know my Savior through repentance and breaking down into the depths of humility to relinquish all of my sins, bad habits, and hidden scars. And I have never felt so much love—nor did I know it was possible—until I felt Him tell me that He had paid the price and that He accepted my offering. To love us despite everything we do to Him ought to cause Him to wince. But He doesn't. He wouldn't have it any other way. His love for us is unconditional, no matter how much we hate ourselves, no matter how much we hate Him. He never interrupts (unlike me), and he never condescends (unlike me). He tailors His advice to our needs and spends every moment pondering our hearts, trying to find the best way to reach us. He touched, spoke to, served, spent time with, and gave to everyone who needed Him, adapting His methods to their circumstances. No mortal could ever love the way Christ loves any more than we could atone the way He atoned. His love is perfect and has no end. I want eternity to be that way—with my family, friends, and all those I love.
      It's so hard to do this, and like I said, 3 is rare. I've never hit 4. But it's eventually what we'll have to get to if we want to become like Christ. So let's work on it! I have so far to go... yikes. I promise I'm working on it. I've had some very meaningful discussions with several people this week about how badly I want/need to stop interrupting people, talking all the time, building myself up, tearing other people down, and stating my opinion as fact. I know it, and I've known it for a long time, so I understand the impatience that I'm sure some of you feel toward me. But I promise I'm trying, and I know that God is supporting me and leading me along. I love everyone who reads this more than they know, even if by some odd coincidence somebody who doesn't know me makes it this far into the post. If you're here, dear anonymous reader, know that I love you—not for anything you have or haven't done, but just by virtue of the fact that you are a child of God and will be forever. So will I. We are all part of a beautiful heavenly family, regardless of race, gender, sexual preference, age, occupation, nationality, socioeconomic status, or even religion. We're made up of the stuff of eternity, and just as there's no end to our existence, there should be no end to our love. I mean, it's like learning to appreciate your siblings: if we're gonna be stuck together for so long, we might as well learn to love each other, right?
     All jokes aside, the biggest thing the world is missing right now is love—for both God and mankind (in that order). But it doesn't have to be that way, and we can be the ones to change it, one loving touch, word, gift, service, or shared moment at a time.
     The following is a beautiful compilation of scriptural examples of God's love for us in sending His Only Begotten Son and Christ's love for us in following the will of the Father, all in the name of saving a wretch like me: