And a lawyer stood up and put [Jesus] to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” And He said to him, “What is written in the Law? How does it read to you?” And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And He said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this and you will live” (Luke 10:25-28).The lawyer’s question is very straightforward – it’s about salvation.
Jesus and the lawyer are in agreement about the requirement to inherit eternal life: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27). Let’s stop here for a moment, because this is more controversial that we may wish to admit. Today, if someone were to ask an evangelical Protestant this same question the most likely response would be, “…confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9). That’s because the most basic Protestant creed is “faith alone.” For Protestants, salvation is about faith, and faith is a rational decision about belief in Jesus. I certainly do not wish to challenge the requirement of faith in salvation; however in this dialogue between Jesus and the lawyer about inheriting eternal life, the word faith does not occur.
Before you start gathering wood for the fire in which to burn the heretic, consider the words of Jesus: “By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). I find it striking that the traditional “marks of the church” – one, holy, apostolic, and catholic – does not include love. Nor does the Protestant “marks of the church” – right preaching, proper administration of sacraments, and church discipline – include love. Even the way we talk about soteriology – predestination or prevenient grace – seems to ignore the priority of love. Maybe we should reconsider how we talk about these matters. Instead of insisting that the initial salvific act of God is predestination and election (Reformed), or prevenient grace (Wesleyan), we should insist that God’s initial salvific act is love (John 3:16). Notice the priority of love in Paul’s words: “In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved ” (Ephesians 1:4-6). Likewise, the proper human response to God’s salvific call is love and we are capable of reciprocal love because of God’s prevenient love. John wrote: “In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins… We love, because He first loved us” (1 John 4:10, 19).
Before we continue, we must define love. The primary words that designated love in the ancient Greek language are agápē, philéō, and érōs. Our modern notions of love are not far removed from the ancient Greek notions of love. For many of us, love is something we experience and feel. This romantic and emotional notion of love is designated by the words philéō and érōs. Philéō can be understood as “a warmed heart” and érōs speaks to “passionate or sensual longing.” Both words tend to speak of love in terms of pleasure. Only agápē and philéō are used in the New Testament. In fact, agápē is rarely used in ancient Greek literature, but it is the most common word for love in the New Testament. Why? Jesus Christ redefined the notion of love. The pagan notions of love emphasize pleasure. Ancient Christians were not opposed to pleasure associated with love, but they were opposed to the notion of love solely for the sake of pleasure. For the early disciples of Jesus, love could never be defined as erotic. Instead, agápē denotes the self-sacrifical, self-giving nature of love. Agápē transcends the selfish notions of érōs, and even the sentimental notions of philéō. Agápē is not the popular notion of “unconditional love,” but love that is conditioned by the redemptive purpose of God. Agápē is the choice to give of oneself, to deny oneself, even to empty oneself for the sake of the beloved. Agápē is the essence of God (1 John 4:8) and the action of God (John 3:16). Agápē is also the proper human response to God (Luke 10:27). To “love the Lord your God with all your” heart, life, strength, and mind suggest that the “Who” and “how” of the loving response are significant. The “Who” is revealed to us through the Incarnation and Pentecost, both of which are self-giving acts of God. The “how” of our loving response to God suggests that we offer our lives (body, heart, and head) as a “living and holy sacrifice” (Romans 12:1).
So, what about faith? Certainly, faith has a proper place in human response to God. After all, “without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is…” (Hebrews 11:6). Protestants have tended to emphasize the priority of faith. But, I would ask, “What is the source of faith?” Paul wrote, “The fruit of the Spirit is love…” (Galatians 5:22). He also said, “But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13). Love is the self-giving action of God. Faith and hope spring from love. Love precedes faith and has priority over faith. Again, let’s refer to Paul: “if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:2). With this in mind, maybe we should protest the Protestant notion of “faith alone.”
Let’s return to the confrontation between the lawyer and Jesus. The lawyer responded correctly, but insincerely. Luke tells us that he was “wishing to justify himself.” This is a temptation with which saint and sinner struggle. We know it by the term “self-righteousness.” Unbelievers seek to justify themselves by insisting they don’t need God, or the church. Those within the church seek to justify themselves when confronted with the radical demands of Christ. Self-righteousness is the effort to deny, or justify, sinfulness. The lawyer sought to deny his sinfulness by asking, “Who is my neighbor?” He was looking for a legal “loop-hole” to resist the proper expression of agápē. Agápē requires more than self-giving towards God; it also requires self-giving and self-sacrifice towards strangers (Leviticus 19:33-34). The lawyer knew the Law, but was resisting its implications.
Jesus demonstrates the radical nature of Christian love in the story of the “good Samaritan.” The priest and Levite saw the wounded traveler, but passed by. Before we criticize them, let’s put this in context. If you’re traveling down a lonely stretch of I-95 after midnight and see someone in distress on the side of the road, will you stop to aid them? The priest and Levite didn’t pass by because they hated the wounded traveler, but because they were afraid. Helping the wounded traveler meant putting themselves at risk. The Samaritan, moved by compassion, expressed Christian love by overcoming his fears, caring for the man’s wounds, and giving much of his personal treasure.
We know love by this, that He laid down His life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him? Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and truth (1 John 3:16-18).The priest, Levite, and Samaritan shared a common devotion to the Torah, even if their interpretations differed. Only the Samaritan properly expressed the self-giving love of God. Paul exhorted Timothy, “For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” (2 Timothy 1:6-7 ESV). Christians should “fan into flame the gift of God,” overcome fear, and exercise the love of God toward friend and stranger alike. When believers (aka, brothers and sisters) gather to discuss important issues of theology and polity, may we be bold in our love for one another and tolerant in our disagreements. As we enter into dialogue with heterodox Christians, or adherents of other religions, should not that dialogue be informed and guided by the love of Christ? As we engage in the politics of this world, we should ask how our political views are formed by the self-giving and self-denying essence of agápē. In the midst of provocative discussions about religion and politics, how can the love of God help us guard our speech, and even embrace our opponent? The anger that is often expressed in public discourse is an expression of fear. John tells us that “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear… and whoever fears has not been perfected in love” (1 John 4:18).
So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience; bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. Beyond all these things put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity (Colossians 3:12-14).
The lawyer sought to put Jesus to the test, but Jesus turned the test toward him. That’s what Jesus does. I wonder if we can pass the test?
