Selfish Love

Love is not enough.

Wait, let me clarify:

“Love” is not enough. I am talking about the word.

The word “love” is not sufficient. It does not encourage deep conversation or exploration.

How can we expect this one word to adequately express the affection a daughter has for her father, the commitment a husband has toward his wife, the bond between two male friends, and the care a grandmother shows her grandchild?

The “love” in each of these relationships is so vastly different that using the same word seems to limit our ability to understand their uniqueness.

The Ancient Greeks did it better. They had seven different words for love!

They had ἔρως (eros), ϕιλία (philía), άγάπη (agápē), στοργή (storgé), μανία (manía)¸πράγμα (prágma), and ϕιλαυτία (philautía).

Each of these terms depicts a different type of love depending on the relationship in which it is used.

They had seven loves; we have only one love, and it does not do justice to the breadth of concepts it describes.

Today, I would like to introduce you to a type of love I have been pondering lately: selfish love.

This selfish love is perhaps the exact opposite of the Greek agape, which is the selfless, sacrificial, unconditional love – the John 3:16 kind of love.

Let me think … ‘selfish love’ sounds alright, but it’s really more of a description than a term. It does not fit in with all those fancy Greek words for love.

Since selfish love is the opposite of agape and since I’m feeling a bit cheeky today, I am going to slap a Greek prefix on the beginning of agape in order to coin a new term for selfish love: άντίάγάπη (antiagape).

So, there we have it!

Antiagape – selfish love; the love that does not understand.

The cornerstone of agape is selflessness. It gives to another what the other needs. It empathizes. It sacrifices. It cares. It understands.

I recently published a German short story about true events that transpired in the concentration camp Auschwitz. In this story, the actions of the man named Maksymilian Kolbe were a perfect representation of agape. He selflessly gave what others desperately needed.

Antiagape is the opposite of this. It does not give what others need; it gives what it needs itself.

Antiagape is when the thirsty swimmer gives the drowning woman a straw so she can drink more easily.

It is when the nurse gives her suffering patient earplugs, so he does not have to endure his own screams.

It is when the rich man who has no spare time for hobbies gives the starving beggar a guitar, since she seems to have plenty of spare time.

But the drowning woman did not need a straw; she needed to be dragged ashore.

The patient did not need to have his screaming blocked out; he needed to be healed.

The starving beggar did not need an instrument; she needed food.

In these three instances, those who expressed love did not understand those who stood across from them. As a result, their love could only be expressed in a manner that satisfied themselves while actually giving nothing to the intended recipients.

This line, penned by the Author Franz Kafka in the early 20th century, sums it up perfectly:

“All the love in the world is useless when there is a total lack of understanding.”

Let me give a realistic example to demonstrate the difference between agape and this new antiagape:

I love my little nephew. I always want to just hold him tight and kiss his cute cheeks. He isn’t much of a snuggler, though. I understand that, and so I hug him sometimes, but most of the time, we play with his toys. That is what he loves. And because he loves it, I love playing with his toys as well. In that way, I am truly showing him love.

If you love someone, you want to understand them; you want to give them what they need.

Agape is that love.

It is the love that takes its eyes off itself and looks around.

It is the love that wants to serve.

Antiagape is a love that is self-absorbed. It lacks empathy and understanding and therefore cannot give what is needed. It cares about its own needs, and it appears to love and give, but it does so only to itself.

I do not want my love to be antiagape.

I do not want to be blind to who others are and what they need.

I do not want to be so caught up in my world that I fail to see anyone else.

I do not want my love to be an expression of selfishness.

So, how can I ensure that I move away from antiagape and toward agape? …

I must observe more.

I must listen more.

I must ask more.

Then, I must base my actions on the new understanding I have gained through following these three guidelines. And I must do so selflessly, without any expectation of receiving anything in return.

Click here to read part two: The Wolf's Love