Loving the Compassionate God

"Love"—this word has been proclaimed in many religions as the highest duty. But can love truly be summoned by command? At first glance, it seems rather like a social propriety—a reverence directed toward an idea, an unseen entity, a symbol in name alone. Without the deep pull of the heart, is that truly love, or merely imitation?

God should be loved not from fear alone, not from devotion or a sense of social obligation, but from genuine affection. When God is imagined as a stern judge or punisher, love hides beneath the shadow of fear. But when God is felt as the source of inner light, as a perfect being of love and compassion, then love arises spontaneously from the heart. To love a God of tenderness—not from fear or duty, but from gratitude and the heart's own yearning.

A question emerges—how can one love what one has never truly known? If God is conceived merely as a fearsome, watchful ruler who punishes transgression in eternal fire, then that "love" toward God is merely fear in disguise.

But there comes a moment when light ignites within. In an instant of awakening, one perceives—God is not distant; He dwells within the heart itself. Then the commandment to love no longer feels forced. Then it becomes only a reminder—where to return, in whose presence every moment already floats.

In that awakened state, love is no duty, but spontaneous gratitude—as if in each breath of life, boundless compassion and beauty resound. Love then is not a prayer, but a natural flowing, where heart and light bear no division between them. Love of God does not come by force; after awakening, one perceives—God is truly the dwelling place of one's own heart.