White Queen
Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash
Unconditional love is praised as the noblest form of devotion because it asks for nothing in return. To love someone at their best is easy. To love them at their worst is saintly. The flip side of the saint who loves at all costs is the tyrant who expects to be loved no matter what they do. When people require unconditional love, they often desire the freedom to behave however they wish, compelling love despite being cruel and neglectful.
Shakespeare illustrates this with painful clarity in King Lear. The aging King commands his three daughters to prove their absolute love for him, offering the largest share of his kingdom to the one who professes the greatest adoration. Two daughters (Regan and Goneril) comply with insincere flattery, but his truthful daughter Cordelia refuses to bow to his theatrics.
Lear flies into a rage and disowns her on the spot because she will not declare that she loves him “all” (to the exclusion of everyone and everything else). “Here I disclaim all my paternal care,” casting off the one child who truly cares for him. Lear’s insistence on unconditional love destroys his family and his sanity. Shakespeare reveals the inhumanity of a love that flows only one way. Cordelia’s unconditional love for her father (she remains loyal and returns to help him in the end) is noble, but Lear’s insistence on being loved no matter how tyrannical his behavior is absurd and destructive.
This pattern is not unique to fiction. In life, we see how unconditional love can become a weapon. Some spouses and partners exploit the promise “I will always love you” as a blank check for abuse—confident that the other person will stay no matter what they do. Authoritarian leaders and ideologues demand unconditional loyalty (a form of love) from their followers, often with dire consequences. Compulsory love in any form verges on tyranny. Such expectations warp the concept of love, turning what should be freely given affection into an obligation enforced by guilt or fear. An unconditional love that is coerced ceases to be love and becomes servitude.
The nobility of love lies in its voluntary grace. When an authority figure (a king, a spouse, a parent, or a deity) commands that we love them without condition, the spirit of love is perverted into something oppressive. Love cannot be genuine if it is compulsory. Shakespeare’s Lear learned this too late: real love, like Cordelia’s, cannot be bought or commanded, and false love, like Goneril’s and Regan’s, is not worth a whit when tested.
Lent is a time for reflection, self-discipline, and examination. During this season, we assess our beliefs, attachments, and ideals in light of reality. We are encouraged to evaluate our behaviors and the guiding principles of our lives. What ideal deserves more examination than unconditional love, the highest virtue?
We have the perfect opportunity to ask: Am I loving wisely? Do I show grace while upholding justice? Can I forgive without overlooking accountability? Just as we fast to purify the body, we should examine our love to cleanse the soul. Unconditional love, when practiced without discernment, may lead to tragedy. However, when combined with wisdom, it can foster resilience and authentic transformation.