When Love Becomes the Mission

A Day in the Life

There are moments in the life of Jesus that feel almost too holy to touch, and John 17 is one of them. We are allowed to listen in as the Son speaks to the Father just hours before the cross. The room is heavy with the knowledge of what is coming, yet Jesus does not pray for escape, strength, or even for His own relief. Instead, He prays something that still unsettles me: “That they all may be one, as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You; that they also may be one in Us, that the world may believe that You sent Me.” The Greek word He uses for “one” is ἕν (hen), meaning a unity so complete it forms a single reality. Jesus ties the credibility of His entire redemptive mission to whether His followers love each other well enough to live as one. That tells me something deeply uncomfortable and deeply hopeful at the same time.

I often imagine what it must have been like for the disciples to hear that prayer. They had just been arguing about greatness, misunderstanding Jesus, and jockeying for position. And yet, knowing all that, Jesus did not pray that they would be smarter, braver, or more disciplined. He prayed they would be united in love. That alone reveals how God views human relationships as part of His redemptive strategy. Scripture repeatedly links how we treat each other to how God advances His mission in the world. Jesus had already said, “Whoever receives the one I send receives Me” (John 13:20), and “Whatever you did for one of the least of these…you did for Me” (Matthew 25:40). Love between people is never merely social; it is sacramental. It becomes a visible sign of an invisible grace.

The Old Testament confirms this same pattern. Malachi tells us that God desires a husband and wife to live in covenant unity so that they might raise a “godly seed” (Malachi 2:14–15). The Hebrew phrase זֶרַע אֱלֹהִים (zera Elohim) refers not merely to biological children but to offspring shaped by faithfulness to God. God was not just protecting marriages for emotional reasons; He was protecting His mission. A fractured home produces fractured faith, but a faithful union becomes fertile soil for redemption to grow. In the same way, Paul tells us that the church is the body of Christ, and that a body at war with itself cannot function (1 Corinthians 12:12). We cannot be on mission with God while we are emotionally, spiritually, or relationally divided from one another.

What strikes me most in Jesus’ prayer is what He does not say. He does not ask the Father to give His disciples courage, clarity, or endurance. Those things matter, but Jesus understood something deeper. Unity is not a byproduct of faith; it is evidence of faith. Augustine once wrote, “Where there is charity and wisdom, there is neither fear nor ignorance.” When love governs our relationships, fear loses its grip and the gospel gains its voice. Jesus knew that the world would never be persuaded by our theology alone; it would be convinced by our love. “By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). Love is not merely the fruit of discipleship; it is the proof of it.

This brings me to a sobering realization. I cannot honestly say that I love God deeply while excusing myself from loving His people faithfully. John puts it bluntly: “Whoever does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20). That verse dismantles many of my spiritual loopholes. I may feel sincere devotion in prayer or worship, but if I am unwilling to forgive, reconcile, or show patience with others, something is broken. As theologian N. T. Wright observes, “The gospel creates a new family, not just new individuals.” God is not merely saving isolated souls; He is forming a reconciled people whose shared life becomes a living testimony to the world.

This is why Jesus’ prayer in John 17 is not sentimental; it is strategic. Unity among believers is not optional for God’s mission; it is essential. When we live in love, the gospel becomes visible. When we harbor resentment, division, or contempt, we distort the message we claim to proclaim. I have to ask myself, sometimes uncomfortably, whether my relationships are making Christ more believable or less believable to those who are watching. The world does not need a more sophisticated church; it needs a more loving one.

As I walk through this prayer of Jesus, I realize that unity is not something I achieve by trying harder. It is something I receive by staying close to Christ. He prays that we would be one “in Us,” meaning our unity flows from our shared life in the Father and the Son. The more deeply I abide in Jesus, the more naturally I begin to love those He loves. That is how God’s redemptive mission quietly advances, one healed relationship at a time.

For further reading on Christian unity and its witness to the world, see this article from Christianity Today:
https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2015/october-web-only/why-christian-unity-matters.html

FEEL FREE TO COMMENT, SUBSCRIBE, AND REPOST, SO OTHERS MAY KNOW

Frederick Douglass: An American in Ireland by Sylvia Wohlfarth

The most celebrated Black man of his era, Frederick Douglass was also the most photographed American of any race in the 19th century.

https://www.ohfweekly.org/frederick-douglass-in-ireland-part-i/

#Abolitionist #AgitateAgitateAgitate #Belfast #BlackHistory #CivilRights #Cork #Dublin #DouglassWeek #FrederickDouglass #Ireland #OurHumanFamily #LoveOneAnother

I wrote 'Cancer and the Holidays' two years ago as I was fighting cancer. Now fighting it a second time, I thought I'd reshare some of the happiness friends brought me then.
#cancerfighter #healingjourney #cancer #cancersucks #cancertreatment #writerslife #goodreads #lovemeanyways #loveoneanother

https://rickollie.com/2023/11/23/cancer-and-the-holidays/?utm_source=mastodon&utm_medium=jetpack_social

When Love Meets Resistance

Walking With Jesus in a Hostile World

A Day in the Life of Jesus

Scripture: John 15:17–25

There are days in the life of Jesus that draw us into deep comfort, and others that remind us of the cost of belonging to Him. Today’s reading from John 15 speaks with sobering clarity, yet it is spoken from the lips of One who loves us deeply. As I walk with Jesus through this passage, I feel Him slowing His pace, turning toward me, and speaking with the tenderness of a friend who knows exactly what lies ahead—not to frighten me, but to prepare me.

Jesus begins with a command: “I demand that you love each other.” And He gives this command just before telling His disciples that the world will hate them. It’s as if He is saying, “You will not always find kindness outside, so make sure you show it inside. You will feel resistance in the world, so strengthen one another in the family.” Jesus knows that hatred isolates, but love restores. Hate divides, but love weaves us back together. So before He explains the hard realities of discipleship, He strengthens our hearts by reminding us of our responsibility—and our privilege—to love one another deeply.

As I reflect on His words, I find it comforting that Jesus does not hide the tensions of following Him. He doesn’t dress up discipleship with soft language. He speaks plainly: “The world hated Me before it hated you.” Those words remind me that the rejection we sometimes face for following Christ is not personal in the way we think—it is theological, spiritual, and deeply connected to the world’s resistance to God Himself. When Jesus says, “The world would love you if you belonged to it,” He is inviting me to remember where I stand. I do not belong to the world; I belong to Him. And belonging to Him—in His mind—is the greater treasure.

There is an honesty in Jesus’ voice here that resonates through the centuries. Every believer, from the earliest disciples to modern Christians in cultures increasingly indifferent or hostile to faith, has felt the reality of His words. I think of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who wrote, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” Bonhoeffer wasn’t exaggerating; he was describing the same truth Jesus offers in this passage. Following Christ means loving in a world that often chooses hate, standing firm in a world that prefers compromise, and living with a different allegiance than the one the world celebrates.

But Jesus does something else in this passage—something unexpected. After stating that He is Lord and Master, He immediately softens the tension by reminding us that He calls us friends. That move is so characteristic of Him. He holds authority and intimacy in the same hand. He leads with truth but follows with love. Not once in this passage does He distance Himself from His disciples. Instead, He comes closer. He speaks of persecution but emphasizes partnership. He describes resistance but affirms relationship. He says, “They persecuted Me, and they will persecute you,” but also, “You are My friends.”

I can almost sense the disciples wrestling with the mixture of comfort and challenge. And I feel it too. There is a strange reassurance in knowing that whatever hostility I face for the sake of Christ is not a sign of failure—it is a sign of fellowship. Jesus Himself walked this road first. As the Gospel of John reminds us, the prophets declared long ago, “They hated Me without reason.” Jesus absorbed unreasonable hatred, not because He lacked goodness, but because sinful hearts resist the holiness He represents.

Jesus then shifts to responsibility—not the heavy kind that burdens the soul, but the kind that dignifies it. “If they listened to Me, they will listen to you.” He is telling His disciples—and us—that our witness matters. Our words carry His echo. Our lives carry His fingerprints. We stand in the world not as spectators but as ambassadors. If Jesus’ message stirred hearts, so will ours. If His love unsettled darkness, so will ours. If His truth pierced through lies, so will ours. This passage is not just about suffering; it is about significance. Our lives, lived faithfully, continue His work.

But Jesus doesn’t end by talking about hatred. He ends by emphasizing the Spirit. The article you provided echoes this beautifully: Jesus offers hope, and the Spirit gives strength. The Holy Spirit becomes the living presence of Christ in our lives, empowering us to endure hostility, misunderstandings, or rejection with grace. He strengthens believers who face persecution today in places where faith is dangerous. And He strengthens believers in quieter settings who still feel the sting of exclusion, bias, or ridicule.

When the article asks whether we allow small problems to interfere with loving other believers, the question lands differently after reading Jesus’ words. If the world will give us enough hatred, why add to it inside the church? Why let irritation replace compassion? Why let offense replace patience? When Jesus commands us to love each other, He does so knowing exactly how much we will need each other. Love becomes the refuge for weary disciples in a weary world. And He assures us He will provide the strength to love—even when personalities clash, preferences differ, or frustrations rise.

The older I grow in Christ, the more I see that Jesus’ command to love is not simply moral—it is protective. It shields the unity of the church. It guards our witness. It strengthens our resilience. It teaches us to practice the very character of Christ in daily life. When believers love one another well, the world sees a glimpse of what God’s kingdom is like. And when believers fail to love, the world gets an easy excuse to dismiss the Gospel. Jesus knows that, and so He commands—not suggests—that His followers love deeply, consistently, and sacrificially.

As I sit with this passage today, I’m reminded of what C.S. Lewis once wrote: “To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.” Loving others—especially in the church—is sometimes difficult precisely because we are all unfinished, imperfect, and still learning grace. But Jesus tells us that He will supply the strength to love. His Spirit does not merely nudge us toward obedience; He empowers us to obey from the heart.

So Jesus’ message today is both a warning and an assurance. He warns us that the world’s hostility is real. But He assures us that His love, His Spirit, His friendship, and His presence are more than enough to carry us through it. And He reminds us that we are not alone. We are surrounded by brothers and sisters who share the same hope, fight the same battle, and walk with the same Savior. If the world rejects us, we still belong—to Him and to one another.

May we walk this day with the comfort that Jesus has not left us unprepared. He has called us friends. He has given us the Spirit. And He has placed us within a community built on love.

May the Lord Jesus Christ walk with you through every moment of this day, reminding you that His love is stronger than the world’s hatred and His friendship deeper than its rejection. May the Holy Spirit strengthen you to love fellow believers with patience and sincerity, even when tensions rise. And may the Father anchor your heart so firmly in His truth that no opposition, no discouragement, and no misunderstanding can remove the peace He places within you. Walk today with courage—because you walk with Him.

Related Resource for Further Reflection

For a deeper look at Christian endurance in a hostile world, visit:
https://www.crosswalk.com/

FEEL FREE TO COMMENT SHARE SUBSCRIBE

#aDayInTheLifeOfJesus #christianEndurance #discipleship #john151725 #loveOneAnother #persecutionAndFaith #spiritualDisciplines

When Love Is Tested

A Day in the Life of Jesus

Scripture: John 13:31–38 (also Luke 22:31–38)

There’s a quiet heaviness in the upper room after Judas slips out into the night. The air must have been tense—uncertainty lingering like a shadow over candlelight. Jesus, fully aware of what awaits Him, begins to speak words that echo through time: “My time has come; the glory of God will soon surround me.” He isn’t speaking about earthly honor or recognition but of divine purpose revealed through the agony of the cross. Even in betrayal and impending suffering, Jesus sees glory—not because the pain is good, but because the outcome will be holy.

He calls the disciples “dear children”—a term full of tenderness and finality. “How brief are these moments,” He says. Every syllable is filled with compassion for those who still don’t understand what’s unfolding. Then He offers what He calls a new commandment: “Love each other just as much as I have loved you.”

This commandment is both simple and staggering. Love was not new; it’s woven into the Torah (Leviticus 19:18). But the measure of love was new. “As I have loved you”—that’s the difference. Jesus isn’t just telling them to be kind; He’s inviting them to love with the same self-giving depth that would soon take Him to Calvary. His love is not sentimental—it’s sacrificial. It costs something. It risks rejection. It gives without expecting return.

The Conversation That Revealed the Heart

Peter, impulsive and loyal, steps forward: “Lord, I am ready to die for You.” There’s sincerity in his voice; he means it. But Jesus knows the weakness that hides within good intentions. “Die for me? Before the rooster crows, you will deny Me three times.”

It’s a sobering moment. Peter’s confidence melts under the weight of Jesus’ foresight. Yet even here, Jesus isn’t condemning him—He’s preparing him. He’s saying, You will fail, but your failure will not define you. Later, on another shore, after the resurrection, Jesus will restore Peter with the same words that first called him: “Follow Me.”

We see ourselves in Peter, don’t we? We, too, pledge loyalty when faith feels safe and circumstances are bright. But under pressure—when following Christ costs us reputation, comfort, or control—we falter. Still, Jesus loves us through those denials. He calls us back, reminding us that grace is not just for the innocent but for the inconsistent.

Loving as Jesus Loved

The Gospel’s call is not simply to believe in Jesus but to love as Jesus loved. This kind of love is not theoretical; it manifests in small, often unnoticed acts of compassion. The article captures this beautifully:

“We love others as Jesus loves us—by helping when it’s not convenient, by giving when it hurts, by devoting energy to others’ welfare rather than our own, by absorbing hurts without complaining or fighting back.”

That’s a love the world can’t explain. It doesn’t make sense unless it flows from a supernatural source. Jesus modeled it perfectly—washing feet when He knew those same feet would soon run from Him, serving a meal to the one who would betray Him, praying for those who would nail Him to a cross.

John Stott once wrote, “The essence of love is self-sacrifice; the essence of sin is self-centeredness.” In that single contrast, we see why Christian love must be different. It refuses to retaliate, refuses to withdraw, refuses to give up on those who disappoint us. To love like Christ is to live cruciform—shaped by the cross.

The Challenge and the Cost

This kind of love is difficult. It requires dying to self daily, choosing forgiveness over bitterness, service over status. It’s easier to admire Jesus’ example than to imitate it. But love is not optional for the disciple; it is the defining mark of our identity. Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.”

When believers love this way, the Church becomes a living testimony. The watching world sees something inexplicable—a unity that outlasts disagreement, a grace that outshines offense, a joy that endures suffering. The early Church grew not because of political influence or cultural power, but because pagans marveled at the way Christians cared for one another. “See how they love each other,” Tertullian recorded the Romans saying.

In today’s fractured world, this is still our most credible witness. Love, especially costly love, is the apologetic of the Kingdom.

Walking Through the Lesson Personally

As I read this passage, I find myself standing beside Peter, promising faithfulness yet fearing failure. I hear Jesus’ words and sense His compassion—He knows me, flaws and all, yet still calls me to love like Him. That realization humbles me. It also frees me. My discipleship is not measured by perfection but by participation in His love.

So, I ask myself: How can I love like Jesus today? Perhaps it means offering patience to someone who’s difficult to work with. Perhaps it’s reaching out to a friend who’s hurting, or forgiving a wound I’ve carried too long. Real love always has a cost—it takes time, humility, and vulnerability. But it also brings a holy reward: the unmistakable sense that Christ is living His life through me.

As we walk this day with Him, remember: Jesus did not just teach about love; He embodied it. Every word, every touch, every tear shed over Jerusalem was love in motion. When He said, “As I have loved you,” He was revealing the pattern for every believer’s life.

May the Lord teach you today to love as He loves—freely, sacrificially, and without condition. May you see in every difficult encounter a chance to display the glory of His compassion. And when your strength feels small, may His Spirit remind you that divine love flows best through surrendered hearts.

Walk gently through this day, remembering: you are loved beyond measure, and you are called to reflect that love to a world desperate to see Jesus through you.

For deeper reflection on Christian love and discipleship, visit The Gospel Coalition and read their articles on Christlike Love and the Life of the Church.

FEEL FREE TO COMMENT SHARE SUBSCRIBE

#ChristianDiscipleship #followingJesus #loveOneAnother #PeterSDenial #sacrificialLove

Accepting what I'm most proud of in my life can sound like boasting But honestly, I'm not. It's just who I am
#kindness #kindnessmatter #exjourno #mylife #whoami #lovemeanyways #gotlove #bekindtoothers ##lifelessons #writerslife #writerscommunity #loveoneanother #mondaymotivation #tryalittlekindness

https://rickollie.com/2025/10/20/being-a-kind-person-is-what-i-take-pride-in/