Jesus didn’t deliver this “new”
command from a mountaintop or a pulpit. No thunder, no crowd. Just a quiet
upper room, still scented with roasted lamb, where sandals shuffled and hearts
wrestled with what had just happened. Moments earlier, the King of Glory had
knelt like a servant and washed the grime from His disciples’ feet. Then He
stood, met their eyes, and said something no rabbi had ever dared: “A new
commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved
you.”
Now,
loving wasn’t new. That command had echoed since Moses. There
are several Old Testament passages that either directly command love for others
or clearly establish the heart posture God expects His people to show toward
one another. Take Leviticus 19:18 for
example: “But
you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.”
The command to love wasn’t
new—but the model was new. The degree. The measure. The standard. “Just as I
have loved you.” It’s as if Jesus said, “Don’t measure love by culture,
comfort, personality, or what others do. Measure it by Me—by what I’m about to
do at the cross.” The standard isn’t compatibility. It’s Calvary.
Picture the disciples
glancing around, remembering their petty rivalries, their debates over who was
greatest, their impatience with each other’s quirks. Then imagine Jesus’ words
settling over them like warm oil: “Love each other the way I’ve loved you.” Suddenly,
love felt impossible. And that was the point. Only the life of Jesus flowing
through them could produce that kind of love—love that stoops to wash feet,
absorbs offense, stays present when misunderstood, and endures agony for the
sake of others. The love that is like Jesus is love that doesn’t flinch when
it’s inconvenient. Love that doesn’t quit when it’s costly. Love that doesn’t
wait to be deserved.
What if the real miracle of
that room wasn’t the foot washing—but the supernatural love Jesus offers to
every follower? The world can mimic kindness, affection, tolerance and respect.
But only Spirit-born people can love with cruciform love—love shaped like a
cross.
And this, Jesus said, is how
the world will know who we are. Not by our podcasts, Bible apps, playlists, or
perfect theology. He didn’t say, “They’ll know you’re Mine by your doctrine.”
He said, “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have
love—agapé love—for one another.” Fierce, foot-washing, cross-shaped love.
So may Jesus fill your heart today with His stubborn, surprising, self-giving love. May He empower you to love those closest to you with the same mercy He’s lavished on you. And may His love in you become the loudest sermon you ever preach.
No comments:
Post a Comment