A couple days ago, Elizabeth Scalia wrote a blog post about the photo of Pope Francis kissing the man in St. Peter’s Square who was covered with grotesque tumors. Of course, it was reminiscent of St. Francis kissing the leper. As usual, The Anchoress was eloquent on the beauty of the gesture. It set me thinking about a video I received that same morning.

I am what people call an “animal lover”; more specifically, a dog-lover. In my younger days when I had more strength and stamina, I tried to do some work in rescue, but I could not do much, because I confess I can’t bear to see some things: I crumble, dissolve into tears, become helpless and useless. Now, a friend often forwards to me photos of adorable puppies or videos of dogs or other animals doing funny or heartwarming things, emails with subject lines like, “Your Awww Moment for Today.” And I remember—it’s burned into the memory, you know—of other images, not at all funny, but heartbreaking, and not at all adorable.

Hard is the heart of one who does not smile at the antics of a soft and warm, cuddly puppy exploring his little world. He is lovable; we say things like “how adorable!” But what about a dog, emaciated, chained and left to starve, bearing the marks of torture or open sores of neglect? Is he lovable?

Is this not how our Lord sees us in our sin? Is this not why he came? To save the sinner (not the righteous), to heal the sick (not the healthy), to love the unlovable.

It’s easy to love those who love us. In fact, it’s so easy it would be hard not to love them—our spouses, parents and children, our family and friends. Sometimes, though far too rarely, we may think about whether we really love them or whether we just love their loving us. (Says the old pop song, “I love how you love me.”) Is our love just gratitude for the warm fuzzies of emotional security? Is that what our Lord meant when he commanded us to love?   No. That’s just an awww moment, like those sent to us in forwarded videos. To love is to love the unlovable, to love those who can’t love us back, to kiss the leper, to rescue the abused animal, to save the sinner and not condemn him. And when we feel repulsed by the unloved’s presence, we blame them—as though our inability to love them were their fault. It isn’t. It’s something much more serious: It means we don’t even know what love is.