Some truths are so big, we forget to see them.
One of those truths is love.
Not sentimental love or rule-following love. Not the kind of love that is easily weaponized or reduced to slogans. But the kind of love that sees clearly. That endures. That holds all things together.
This is the message of the Gospel. This is the mystery that Christian mystics and contemplatives have long tried to name, and what some today call the Cosmic Christ, the divine presence that saturates all of creation.
"In him we live and move and have our being."
—Acts 17:28
This divine presence is not confined to a church building, a denomination, or a particular interpretation of scripture. It is everywhere. And it is love.
We are held in love. Formed by love. Called back to love.
But we forget.
Instead of seeing with the eyes of love, we begin to see through the eyes of fear. We judge, divide, and defend. We turn love into law and grace into gatekeeping. We fall back into the illusion of separation.
We start to believe that God is not "over all, through all, and in all" (Ephesians 4:6) but rather only in those who look and think and act like us.
That is not the Gospel.
That is anxiety dressed up as certainty.
The path from anxiety to love is not academic. It is lived. It requires us to see our own patterns first, to feel where fear has been running the show. But more than understanding our patterns, it asks us to discover what the mystics have always known: we are already held in the love we seek.
The Journey Toward Union
Christian maturity is not about knowing more verses or winning more arguments. It is about union.
Richard Rohr writes, "We worshipped Jesus instead of following him on his same path. We made Jesus into a religion instead of a journey toward union."
To follow Jesus is to walk his path. And the path he walked was love.
Love that includes.
Love that liberates.
Love that heals.
Love that sees.
This is what the early followers experienced. Paul says in Colossians 3:11, "Christ is all and in all." He does not say Christ is in some and against others. He says Christ is all.
That is not pantheism, the idea that everything is God.
It is panentheism—the idea that everything exists in God, and God exists in everything. As it says in Romans 11:36, "From him and through him and to him are all things."
This is the Cosmic Christ: the universal presence of divine love, revealed through Jesus and alive in all things.
When we really grasp this, it changes how we see.
We stop dividing the world into insiders and outsiders.
We stop mistaking doctrine for divinity.
We begin to see with love.
Love as the Greatest Commandment
Paul understood this deeply. In one of the most beloved passages in scripture, he makes it clear that love is not just one virtue among many. It is the heart of everything:
If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
—1 Corinthians 13:1–3
Paul continues with his famous description of love as patient, kind, and enduring, culminating in: "And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love" (1 Corinthians 13:13).
This is not sentiment. This is spiritual truth.
We can have all the right theology, all the spiritual gifts, all the religious knowledge in the world. But if we do not have love, Paul says we are nothing. We gain nothing. We are just noise.
Love is not the cherry on top of faith. Love is faith.
This means when someone cuts us off in traffic, we might wonder what stress they're carrying. When a family member triggers our old wounds, we might ask what pain they're protecting. When politicians say things that infuriate us, we might breathe and remember they too are trying to survive in a system that rewards division over connection.
Journaling as a Practice of Vision
One of the ways we deepen this way of seeing is through journaling. Writing slows us down. It invites us to notice our judgments, our fears, and the stories we tell ourselves about others. It helps us get honest. And honesty is the beginning of healing.
If you want to make this real, take a few moments to journal with these prompts. Let them open you.
Journaling Prompts
Where in my life do I still feel the need to be right in order to feel safe?
Who have I judged as being outside of God's love?
What might change if I began to see Christ in all people, even those I do not understand?
What would it mean to walk the path of love instead of just believing the right things?
Embodied Practice: Breathing Into Union
Find a quiet moment. Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly.
Take three slow breaths.
With each exhale, silently release: "I don't need to be right to be safe."
With each inhale, quietly receive: "I am held in love."
Let this reminder settle into your body. Union is not just a belief. It is a felt experience.
Where This Leads
This is the path we are on.
It is not always easy. But it is always love.
Love is not just the way forward. Love is the way we've always been held. We just keep forgetting to see it. But forgetting is human. And remembering, again and again, is grace.
Author Bio
Keith Rowe is a breathworker, teacher, and founder of Vital Healing, a nonprofit where he helps people reconnect to the wisdom of the body and transform through breathwork, shadow work, somatic practice, and spiritual clarity.
He is also the co-creator of the upcoming Walking Pilgrim app, a 33-day journey of breath, presence, and personal transformation through mindful walking. Sign up at walkingpilgrim.com.