Wounded Love: Self-protection vs. Self-gift
- Allison Auth
- 4 hours ago
- 4 min read
My first job at a parish after graduating from college was a bit of a shock.
Coming down the mountain, so to speak, from Franciscan University of Steubenville to my new parish, where I had a youth ministry job, was quite a culture change. I came to love so many families there, but one of the most puzzling enigmas was the attitude of some of the daily Mass goers. They were the most dedicated, while also the most rigid and grumpy.
Over time, I’ve seen a curious cross-section of faithful who take their duties very seriously, while missing out on some fruits of the Spirit, such as joy, patience and kindness.
Yet, as I grow older, I see how easy it is in my own life to live the routine without the deeper conversion of heart. If I’m not careful how I respond to my own wounds, I will become that difficult person.
You see, we are all wounded by sin and hurt by others. What matters is how we deal with it. We can either cover over our wounds with self-protection and let them fester, or we can keep the wound open in self-gift.
The Problem with Self-Love
If we cover over our hurt with pious practices and insulate ourselves from genuine sharing with others, but do not address the wounds of our deepest sins and attachments, our souls will become infected with self-love. In other words, self-love becomes a kind of self-protection that walls us off from true love.
In his book, Frequent Confession, Father Benedict Baur, O.S.B., writes:
“In our behavior toward those around us, especially, self-love shows itself. It makes us touchy, short-tempered, sharp, conceited, censorious; it makes us cold, unfeeling, unfriendly, envious, unfair in judgment and in speech, lacking in respect for others. It takes away that interior peace that is the very soul of the spiritual life. It produces an exaggerated sense of our own importance and thus destroys humility.
It creates a jealous, distrustful disposition and makes us day by day more irritable and touchy and more incapable of practicing charity; and it causes us to lead a very superficial and distracted life, without any deep or genuine attention to the things of God. It makes us consider ourselves better than others, even in matters of piety; it makes us close our eyes to their good points, see only their shortcomings and defects and ascribe to them evil intentions that they never had” (p. 118).
So, I must ask myself: What fruits of love am I giving to those around me? The bitter fruit of self-love that only cares about my protection and piety, or a selfless love that washes another’s feet? For to love is to serve.
The wounds must be cut open to bleed anew, to let the infection out.
The Fruits of Self-Gift
In contrast, I know quite a few faithful who exude the fruits of the Spirit. They are wise, patient and generous, and you feel peaceful in their presence.
The difference is that their focus is on the love of God, not the love of self. Instead of protection, they pour themselves out in self-gift. Their wounds are united to Christ’s, so the pain becomes redemptive.
We are in the month of June, which is dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It is probably my favorite devotion because the love of Jesus seems so tangible, so present, so overflowing. His bleeding heart is literally on fire with love for us; the drops of blood fertilize our hearts to become good soil to receive him.
When Jesus instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper, he said, “This chalice which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:20). Then, in the next paragraph, the disciples are arguing about who is the greatest. They didn’t yet understand that the greatest is the one who serves, who pours their heart out for others as Jesus did on the Cross.
Jesus said to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque: “Behold this Heart which has so loved men that it has spared nothing, even to exhausting and consuming itself, in order to testify to its love.”
That is the definition of self-gift.
The wounded heart of Christ shows us that the sacrifice is costly but is also the source of grace. We know from the story of Thomas, who put his fingers into Jesus’ side, that Jesus’ wounds are still open and pouring out a storehouse of graces for us. If we want to be like Jesus, we must press our hearts to his and allow our wounds to become conduits of God’s grace. For example, if I have been hurt by rejection, I seek to include others. If I have the pain of being ridiculed, I strive to elevate others in word and deed.
June is a great month to examine our own hearts. While we are all wounded by our sinful world, the question is how we will respond. Does our heart resemble Christ’s Sacred Heart? Or does it resemble an infected sore, letting the hurt and resentment fester in self-protection?
Do we allow our wounded love to make us irritable and touchy, or will we allow our wounds to remain open, to let the infection out and pour ourselves out in self-gift? The grace is there, but the choice is ours.
Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make our hearts like unto thine.
