All you need is love ... but what kind of love?



εὐαγγελίζω (euaggelizo)
“to announce the Good News of victory in battle”

“Jesus said to his disciples:
“As the Father loves (ἠγάπησέν) me,
so I also love you (ἠγάπησα).
Remain (μείνατε) in my love (τῇ ἀγάπῃ).
If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love,
just as I have kept my Father’s commandments
and remain in his love.””


θεωρέω (theoreo)
(“to perceive, discover, ponder a deeper meaning”)

Last week’s echo of “remain” still resonates on this Sunday of Easter. That rich verb μένω (meno), translated here and throughout the Johannine Gospel as “to remain” conveys a very engaging activity of building a place to live (μένω (meno) can also be translated as “to abide”). μένω (meno) does not mean to remain in a static state of standing still or passively waiting around for something to happen out-of-the-blue. It rather paints a picture of someone single-mindedly staying on point and working to prepare one’s home to receive a guest. The anticipation of the guest’s arrival and the thoughts of the guest spending time with the host fills everyone with joy. The anticipation of the visit also moves the host to change whatever is needed to make room for the guest.


But what is the source of that joy? What causes one to engage in the active response-work of μένω (meno)? The answer, from the lips of Jesus, simply is to remain “in my love (ἀγάπῃ, agape).” We need to take seriously this entire phrase and not simply the noun “love.” Christian living is a qualified and specified love. Wonderfully, there are probably as many descriptions of love as there are people on planet Earth and some have been enshrined in popular music. A danger, however, lurks in the discussion of love in a Christian cosmology because we might apply our meaning of love onto the Jesus’ teaching. Love then becomes not the God-like ideal for living, but a license that canonizes what I want, when I want it and how I want it; the operative word being “I.”

Jesus’ command, “remain in my love,” begins with approaching the reality of love (ἀγάπῃ, agape) not from the perspective of ‘me, myself and I,’ but from the Person, words and deeds of Jesus. For Jesus not only teaches but lives what (actually WHO) this love is in two exceptionally concrete ways: the first – keeping the Father’s Commandments; the second – laying down His life. What binds these two points together is sacrifice; sacrifice that flows from an act of the will. This is why Christianity contends that love is not first and foremost a feeling, love is not fundeamentally an emotion. Rather love is an act of the will whereby I choose the good of the other. Such an act requires sacrifice on my part which certainly can include emotions and feelings. Yet the absence of an emotion or a feeling is not necessarily the absence of Christian love. This sacrifice is not only in action, but thought and word as well. How often do I have to have the last word? How often have I plotted to get my own way by orchestrating my own agenda? We compound the matter by then stepping back and complimenting ourselves on a ‘professional job,’ an ‘efficient and equitable use of materials and personnel,’ or worse still – I did it all for love when in fact it has been nothing more than a profound act (or acts) of selfishness. Jesus' command to sacrificial love is creative. It summons one to a way of living that is about the essential good (good as used in Genesis) made possible by a free renunciation of self.

Saint Augustine offers a concluding reflection for this Sunday’s Gospel and he tackles a description of Christian love by linking that experience with faith and hope:

“But when he said in this way here, “This is my commandment,” as if there were no other, what are we to think? Is, then, the commandment about that love with which we love one another his only one? Is there not another that is still greater, that we should love God? Or did God in truth give to us such a commandment about love alone that we have no need of searching for others? There are three things at least that the apostle commends when he says, “But now abide faith, hope, charity, these three. But the greatest of these is charity.” And although in charity, that is, in love, the two commandments are contained, yet it is here declared to be the greatest, not the only one. Accordingly, what a host of commandments are given to us about faith, what a multitude about hope! Who is there that could collect them together or suffice to number them? But let us ponder the words of the same apostle: “Love is the fulfillment of the law.” And so, where there is love, what can be lacking? And where it is not, what is there that can possibly be profitable? The devil believes but does not love: no one loves who does not believe. One may, indeed, hope for pardon who does not love, but he hopes in vain. But no one can despair who loves. Therefore, where there is love, there will necessarily be faith and hope. And where there is the love of our neighbor, there also will necessarily be the love of God. For one that does not love God, how does he love his neighbor as himself, seeing that he does not even love himself? Such a person is both impious and iniquitous. And he who loves iniquity clearly does not love but hates his own soul. Let us, therefore, hold fast to this precept of the Lord, to love one another, and then we will be doing all else that is commanded, for we have all else contained in this.” (Tractates on the Gospel of John, 83)