I was raised to think of debt as something to be avoided at all costs. Even when someone does a favor for me, my instinctual response is to say “I owe you,” as if I were trying to alleviate the pressure of being indebted to someone for their act of kindness. I wouldn’t go so far to say that debt is universally bad; things like mortgages and student loans can be justified easily when handled responsibly. But ultimately, if someone were to voluntarily enter into a debt, the goal would be to pay it off as soon as possible. Whether a debt is assumed to be good or bad, our response is the same: we want to be free from debt.
Our view of debt has gone beyond the dollars and cents of it all. We live in a world that has normalized a zero-sum way of living; if you do “x” for me, I feel like I must do “y” for you. But how does this view of debt intersect with Jesus’ teachings on love?
Throughout the Gospel, Jesus commands us to love others in the same way he loved us (John 13:34-35; 15:9, 13), and His love is the antithesis of “zero-sum.” In his book Works of Love, Kierkegaard leans on this concept of “love debt” as described by Paul in Romans 13:8, where because love is infinite, believers must always remain in a “love debt” to others. Love “can live only in infinitude” since it emanates from God (1 John 4:8, 19). Kierkegaard goes as far to remind the believer “to remain in [love] debt is the apex of celebration.” The debt of love has no finality, no repayment date, and to remain in the debt is to live in accordance with what Christ has asked of us. So perhaps the transactional nature of debt has distorted our understanding of love debt.
When we seek to love someone without condition, it is molding us into a certain kind of person—we are in love’s debt as it shapes us to become more like Christ.
Allen Levi’s recent popular novel, Theo of Golden, takes Paul and Kierkegaard’s interpretation of love debt and crafts a story that has captured the hearts of millions across the world. In Levi’s story, an elderly man named Theo arrives in the small town of Golden, Georgia, as a new resident. He visits a coffeeshop and notices hand-sketched portraits of the residents hanging up around the shop. Moved by the art, he takes it upon himself to purchase these portraits and deliver them to their subjects. All in all, a seemingly uneventful story about a man doing a kind gesture, and yet the story has transcended numerous cultural barriers to endear to us all a simple old man named Theo.
And so, the question: What can Theo teach us about love debt?
To Remain in Love
“But for anything to be good, truly good, there must be love in it…Nothing is what it is supposed to be if love is not at the core.”—Theo of Golden
If infinite love emanates from the brokenness of Christ done for the salvation of humankind, our love debt for others therefore emanates from the same source of brokenness (Matthew 11:28, 2 Corinthians 12:9). One of Theo’s friends, Asher, refers to Theo as “tender,” but Theo quickly rebuffs Asher’s observation: “Not tender, Asher. Broken.” Theo’s love comes from a place of brokenness—because he has loved deeply, he has been broken, and living in this brokenness and humble posture is how he deeply loves others. C. S. Lewis’s popular quote from The Four Loves expresses Theo’s posture eloquently: “There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken.” When we elect to remain in love debt, we risk being hurt by others—even Theo’s offering of love was painfully rejected on occasion. Theo lived out of brokenness, but his love was not broken because it emanated from an eternal source, not dependent on the recipient’s response and therefore impossible to be repaid by any person.
In his love, Theo did not seek to bring attention to himself but practiced what Lewis would call “gift-love,” a constant return of focus to the gift and not the giver. Through Theo’s life, we see individuals in Golden forming friendships on the basis of their shared affection toward Theo. But while he was the origin of these friendships, they become able to thrive apart from him—thankful, but not dependent, on his participation. On this concept of gift-love Lewis writes, “The hour when we can say ‘They need me no longer’ should be our reward.”
To Remain in Debt
“And I will be my brother’s keeper, not the one who judges him/I won’t despise him for his weakness, I won’t regard him for his strength/I won’t take away his freedom, I will help him learn to stand/And I will, I will be my brother’s keeper.”—“Brother’s Keeper,” Rich Mullins
Theo befriends a variety of people during his gift-giving endeavors. We see him meeting a virtuoso cellist , a night custodian who lost his wife and nearly lost his daughter in a car accident, a local homeless woman who is more brilliant than she lets on, a woman who is unsatisfied with her career choices. Theo’s work reflects the ministry of Jesus through his association with all persons: rich, poor, lepers, prostitutes, tax collectors, centurions. Weakness and strength are merely differences between us, not qualifiers for love. And Kierkegaard reminds us that these differences are merely a disguise—we should not ignore these differences but rather “hold them loosely.”
For Theo, rather than purchasing the portraits and immediately giving them to their subjects, he spends time studying each one, seeking to know the person contained in the work before presenting it as a gift. Though he was a master artist himself, he becomes a student of people while in Golden, using art as both a lens to see others at a depth they may have never been seen, and a vehicle toward relationship and gift-love. Theo understands what Kierkegaard said about loving others with both eyes open: “You observe him with the one eye, testing, probing, inspecting, and—alas—only with the other eye do you see that he is the beloved. Ah, but to divide things like this—this is not to love the person one sees.”
Through his study of each portrait, Theo seeks to love the person before he even meets them. Kierkegaard describes this as “love form[ing] the heart” because when we seek to love someone without condition, it is molding us into a certain kind of person—we are in love’s debt as it shapes us to become more like Christ.
Love Debt in Action
“When it is a duty to remain in love’s debt to one another, then, to remain in debt is not a fanatical expression, not a notion about love, but is action; thus, with the help of duty, love, in Christian fashion, continues in action, in the swiftness of action, and precisely thereby—in the infinite debt.”—Kierkegaard, Works of Love
To remain in love-debt is not some fantastical goal that will only be achieved at the consummation, but rather something that is cultivated by action. In acting out of a love debt, we love others toward becoming who they are made to be in Christ. Theo encourages his friend Asher in this manner: “Asher, I can’t do what you do, but I can make sure that what you do fulfills its purpose.” Allen Levi even shares the same sentiment when discussing his main character, Theo, pointing to “the Theo in all of us.” Our remaining in love debt and acting out of this debt is indicative of our remaining in Christ, as the source of our love is Christ. Or, said differently, “Love each other as I have loved you.” (John 15:12)
In Jesus’ Parable of the Great Banquet (Luke 14:15-24), while the owner of the house finds himself flustered that none of his invited guests respected him enough to accept his invitation, he then opens his doors to those who have no invitation nor any status to earn such a gift. Kierkegaard has a unique interpretation of this text; that maybe Jesus is telling us that what truly makes a banquet is the presence of individuals who could not reciprocate in the giving of such a gift. Thus, this gift-love exhibited by Theo is an open invitation as you are, to be valued and loved.
Near the end of the story, Theo thinks to himself, “I have tasted heaven.” And Theo is not mistaken. Ultimately, the Luke 14 banquet parable presented by Jesus and personified in Theo’s community of random passersby points toward a greater banquet that is to take place at the consummation. A moment where all of us—as undeserving recipients of love and sharers of the greater love debt—receive a New Earth where we may dwell with our Savior for eternity.
