“I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house
of slavery. You shall have no other gods besides Me—for I, the Lord your God, am God
Who brooks no rival” (Deuteronomy 5:6,9)
Here is a statement from the only true God who demands to be worshipped exclusively. He permits no competitor. He insists on absolute loyalty. Nothing less will do. Elsewhere in the Bible the Lord states the same affirmation in even clearer terms. He insists: “I am a jealous God,” and “My beloved is mine, and I am his” (Song of Solomon 2:16). It means: I am the God of this people. Not others, this man, or this woman, or this child, as Fr. Paul Florensky notes (The Pillar and Foundation of Truth). What about other people and nations? The Bible or at least the Old Testament isn’t addressing that difficulty. It creates problems for us and them, especially for those even among the Orthodox Christian people who feel all religions are equal. They say, “There’s only one God,” as if that solves the problem of God’s exclusive relationship with each of us.
We sometimes say that He made each of us as though we were the only one, and if that statement has merit it might be that He loves us with a special love. But how else can He love? Consider somebody you love dearly. A child feels that her mother is like no other mother who ever lived—and she is right. Somebody falls in love. Is he not jealous of the girl he adores? He wants to know where she is at all times, who her friends are, what she likes and dislikes, whom she dated before him; and after marriage that exclusivity only grows. When Emily Dickinson wrote: “The soul selects her own society and shuts all others out,” she must have had a love attachment in mind.
Jealousy is the opposite of envy. Those who envy are to be pitied, because they are fostering emptiness in their hearts that will not be filled. The one who envies wants something that another person has. It may be and often is imaginary. The envier projects onto the rival a fantasy of achievement that the target of his jealousy may not be aware of, or may not even possess. The classic case is the loathsome Iago in Shakespeare’s Othello. The contemporary term for such a person is “Loser.” Crude, but accurate.
A third type neither possessing jealousy nor envy is so frequently found in today’s society. They have no real attachments to persons other than themselves. Not even to God. They feel themselves above emotional relationships. They would say that they love everyone—meaning no one in particular. If they were an appliance, they would go about holding the cord in one hand looking for an outlet to connect; but they never find it. They drift through life like chips on a river, letting the stream take them along, as it will. Sometimes they try out a church or faith to see if it turns them on, and it may last—at least for a time. They may like the décor, the choir, the ambiance of friendly people, or perhaps the personality of the celebrant. But it doesn’t last. Some even visit a monastery to see if that’s for them; but it rarely is. The Church, whether a parish, monastery or seminary, ultimately demands a commitment. The jealous God insists on a love affair with each of His human creatures. They may like the phrase: “God so loved the world—” but they balk at the logical and necessary response. To acknowledge and accept His love requires a commensurate love. One does not take without giving back in the measure we are capable of returning. “I don’t want what is yours; I want you” is the clear message Christ sends to His friends.