Recently, a friend of mine wrapped up his email with a thoughtful note: "Today, I will surrender to God’s arms, and then I will become those arms." Mirabai Starr, renowned mystic and translator, puts it simply when she says, “once you encounter the God of love, every other god loses its place.” This God embodies limitless and unconditional love, standing with arms wide open, hoping for us to extend the same kind of love toward others.
Honestly, I can’t claim to be an expert on St. Augustine’s concept of ordo amoris—a term that even JD Vance suggests everyone should "look up"—nor am I deeply versed in St. Thomas Aquinas’ detailed explanation of organized love in his Summa Theologica.
Vance, along these lines, suggests we set our priorities in a certain order: Start with loving God, then move on to your family, neighbors, community, fellow citizens, and only then focus on the world at large. He recently explained this structure during an interview.
It seems to me, though, that we need to let go of the notion of a god who believes love is a scarce resource.
Pope Francis offered his thoughts in a letter criticizing the Trump administration’s plans for widespread deportations of migrants. He spoke of a true ordo amoris that should be embraced—one found by reflecting on love that creates a fraternity open to everyone, with no exceptions.
The God some project, small and self-centered, demands love. However, the God we have modeled is selfless, boundless, generous, and embraces the concept of universal brotherhood.
Love is where we all belong. Once we arrive there, we don’t yearn for anything else. It’s a space brimming with joy and isn’t something that can be exhausted. As the scripture says, “Love never fails” (1 Corinthians: 13). It’s the driving force behind any meaningful progress.
Understandably, “open arms” aren’t the same as “open borders.” (Though, despite claims about “open borders,” I’ve yet to hear anyone genuinely advocate for them.) In his letter, the pope argued that there’s sufficient love to uphold the dignity of migrants, protect communities, and affirm our interconnectedness.
The hope is to align our hearts with the God of love and express God’s generosity in our actions. A structured love, contrasted by hierarchy, suggests fear of exhausting love. It often results in a narrow-minded outlook that limits our capacity for kindness, even though God’s expansiveness knows no fear.
What both Vance and perhaps even intellectuals like Augustine and Aquinas overlooked is what St. Ignatius recognized: the “God who is always greater” than our structured notions.
Jesus, it appears, emphasized four key principles: inclusion, non-violence, unconditional kindness, and compassionate acceptance. These principles embody what it means to be God’s arms extended into the world.
The God of love guides us toward the marginalized, erasing those very boundaries in the process. Instead of confining our affection to a hierarchy, we stand with the oppressed and those denied dignity. It is among those cast aside that we discover abundance, not lack. Our sense of completeness grows when we accompany those marginalized and disregarded, dismantling the systems that allow such rejection.
For forty years, I’ve walked alongside former gang members, helping them reimagine their futures away from violence and toward the hope that God has for them. At Homeboy Industries, our foundation rests on two core beliefs: every person possesses inherent goodness—without exception—and we all belong to one another.
These teachings dismiss any “first love here, then there” checklist. Instead, we are called to cherish others as God cherishes us, actively engaging with love. This openness nurtures the possibility of a humane immigration system, rather than stifling it. It helps prevent needless deaths after U.S. aid halts its funding, compels us toward environmental stewardship, addresses mass incarceration, and assists those with the least capacity to help themselves.
It’s time to release the gods restricting us from embracing our genuine selves through love. By choosing to be God’s arms, as my homie suggested, we discover untapped joy in welcoming those who’ve been shut out, ensuring we never feel the pang of homesickness again.
Gregory J. Boyle, a Jesuit priest, founded Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles. His latest work is "Cherished Belonging: The Healing Power of Love in Divided Times."
