27 “But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. 29 To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic[a] either. 30 Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. 31 And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.
32 “If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. 35 But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. 36 Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.
37 “Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.” (Luke 6:27-38, ESV)
True confession: I took a bit of perverse delight in noting this last week on social media that the movie, “Love Story” – with Ryan O’Neal and Ali MacGraw – was released 51 years ago. The best known line from the movie is also among the dumbest of lines in history, “Love means never having to say you are sorry.” In an interview 44 years after it was released, O’Neal himself observed, that line is “a crock”.
But the movie and the sentiments it promotes reveal just how culturally confused we are about love. The whole notion that love can give us a pass on the hard work of offering apologies and giving forgiveness is just one example of our confusion. The movie itself, which indulges in gauzy, tear-jerking categories is another. Were that all that love amounts to, then it would just be a source of weakness, inaction, and narcissism.
So, when we encounter the command to love and forgive in the teaching of Jesus, it is hard to comprehend just what he has in mind. Are we supposed have certain fuzzy feelings toward others? Or pray that God will make us feel affection toward people that we don’t know? Are we supposed to forget that we have been hurt by some people? Or that they might be a danger to us and to others? If love is all about affection, how do we tease apart the differences in feelings that we have for people? And how do we account for the variables that usually determine what we feel, including the nature of our relationships, the time we have devoted to them, the experiences we have had together, and the affinities that we share?
When we ask questions of this kind, it becomes clear that when Jesus commands us to love and forgive, he can’t possibly have the kind of feelings that a movie like “Love Story” attempts to provoke. So, what does he have in mind?
The first thing to remember is that Jesus’s command is at the heart of his inaugural sermon in Luke’s Gospel. As Luke describes it the first, lengthy sermon that Jesus preaches. It sets the tone for everything he is about to say and do. It signals that he is the one who inaugurates the coming of the Kingdom of God. It signals that he is describing what life is like in the Kingdom of God and his explicit reference to the presence of the twelve “apostles” and other “disciples” indicates that his message is for them, in particular.
So, the “love command” – as it is called – has a context. It isn’t an ethereal, universal “all you need is love”. It isn’t a Hallmark sentiment. It isn’t even a free-standing ethical proposition.It makes certain assumptions about God, about the nature of the creation, about what God is trying to do, what God expects of us, about how it is all made a reality, and about the claim it makes upon our lives.
The second thing to notice is that the model of that love is Jesus himself. It is given expression in his teaching, in his life, in his interaction with his disciples, in his differences with his contemporaries, and – preeminently – in his crucifixion. In him, it is revealed as the nature of God. In him it is revealed as the means by which our relationship with God and with one another is forever transformed. In him it is revealed as the goal that God has for us and for creation. The love and forgiveness made known in the crucifixion of Jesus and his resurrection from the dead is the means by which our relationship with God and with one another is restored – the means by which the image of God in each of us is repaired. God commands it, but it is also God – in the person of Jesus Christ – who makes it possible.
Third – seen in this way – the command to love and forgive is the hallmark of life in God’s Kingdom and, therefore, life in the body of Christ. Every Sunday we celebrate the love of God as expressed in the death and resurrection of Jesus. We open ourselves to its example, we take it into our bodies as a sacrament. We take in the story of God’s saving love in Scripture, and we learn more about its transforming power by living with and caring for one another.
This is why the love commandment is not a private ethic. This is also why – as taught in the Christian tradition – it cannot be fully experienced or expressed apart from life in the body of Christ.
So, what is the command to love all about, exactly?
Here is how I would define the kind of love that Jesus is talking about:
Love is a conscious, deliberate, Spirit-led devotion to the restoration of God’s image in our neighbors – our enemies included – which is made possible by God and embodied in God’s Son, through the Incarnation and it is given its ultimate expression in the Crucifixion.
That captures the important dimensions, but it is also a bookish definition. So, allow me to unpack that a bit:
First: The kind of love that Jesus commands has nothing to do with how you feel.
You can’t work yourself up to feeling the kind of love that Jesus is describing. You don’t need to. It has nothing to do with affection or warm, fuzzy feelings. Frankly, feelings don’t factor into it very much and, in fact, being occupied with feelings can be a complete distraction.
We have made far too much about what we feel. The place it occupies in our lives, and the significance it has in shaping our obligations.
Second: It is a choice. But not a choice in a vacuum. It is the choice to place ourselves in the hands of the Holy Spirit – to be guided, to be inspired, to be strengthened in the effort to love.
Third: That choice is to love and live in a fashion that aids and encourages people on their journey into healing – the healing of their relationship with God and with others. That effort can take an endless number of expressions. It can include words of encouragement, aid in a time of crisis, simple acts of friendship, a kind word, attention, and interest in the wellbeing of others. But knowing what to do always entails answering a single question: Does my behavior make it easier for others to trust in the love God and the love of Christ’s body, the church? Positive answers to that question leave a multitude of possibilities open. A negative answer is always a cause for prayer, reflection, and change.
Fourth: To understand the love-command, It is important to keep the example and the enabling love of Christ in mind. It is common for people to point at human behavior and to say, “I know people who are loving, who aren’t Christians.” I have no doubt that is the case. But the love command that Jesus articulates is not remotely the same kind of love.
It isn’t kindness for the sake of kindness. Or affection in the name of affection. It isn’t even the kind of love that seeks to save a life.
It is love that is motivated by the conviction that we all have eternal souls – that those souls can be nurtured or scarred in ways that touches not only this life, but the next – that we are called by Christ to participate in God’s effort to extend that kind of healing to everyone we meet.
There is a story told about an ancient monastery that was struggling that illustrates what I have in mind:
The monastery had fallen on hard times. They had only five monks left, all very old, and their building was decaying. Near the monastery there was a little hut where a rabbi from a nearby town would retreat for prayer. The abbot of the monastery decided to visit the rabbi to see if he had any advice for his dying monastery. The rabbi welcomed the abbot and listened to his concerns. The rabbi responded, “I know how it is. The spirit has gone out of the people. It is the same in my town. Almost no one comes to the synagogue anymore.” The two old men wept together and read the Torah.
When it came time for the abbot to leave, they embraced. The abbot asked, “Is there nothing you can tell me, no piece of advice you can give me that would help me save my dying order?”
The rabbi replied, “No, I am sorry. I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you.”
When the abbot returned to the monastery, he told the brothers about his visit with the rabbi: “He couldn’t help. We just wept and read the Torah together. The only thing he did say, just as I was leaving…was that the Messiah is one of us….”
The five monks took this to heart. What if the Messiah really was one of them? Was it possible? [What did it mean to love as the Messiah had loved? What did it mean to live as if they lived in the presence of the Messiah? What kind of love was reflected in the Eucharist that they celebrated? These questions changed the way in which they lived and] Soon the monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect.
And as visitors left the monastery, they were taken by the love the five old men had for each other. There was something strangely attractive, even compelling, about them. More people came to visit. Then one day a young man came to the monastery and asked to join. Then another and another. The monastery eventually became a thriving order again, thanks to the [questions the rabbi prompted them to ask].[i]
Gracious God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, teach us to love one another as if our healing depended upon it. Knowing that our behavior can be a window into your love, prompt us to care for one another in ways that embody that love. Knowing that our behavior can be a window into your love, prompt us to forgive. Knowing that our behavior can be a window into your love, keep us from behaving in ways that cloud and obscure that vision, in ways that spread despair or that deepen isolation. And so transform our lives that we might embody that love which we celebrate in the Eucharistic feast of your people. Through the same Lord, Jesus Christ, who with you and the Holy Spirit, reign one God, now and forever. Amen.
[i] The story has been freely adapted and supplemented from the version described by David Freeman: https://www.weatherly.org/blog/to-love-as-god-loves. The original is from Scott Peck’s The Different Drum, pp. 13-15.
Photo by Pavel Nekoranec on Unsplash
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