Two men went up into the temple to worship. These men, however, unlike the two in Jesus’s parable (Luke 18:9–14), looked and sounded the same. Both lifted their hands in praise. Both sat silent beneath God’s word. Both bowed their heads in confession. And yet, only one of the men went down to his house justified. Only one was right with God.

Some may find this scenario troubling. If we cannot discern a person’s spiritual sincerity by his worship, then how can we discern it? If raised hands and attentive ears and a bent head can mask a hard heart, then where does true love for God appear?

The main answer comes in Jesus’s response to a certain lawyer. “Teacher,” the man asks, “which is the great commandment in the Law?” (Matthew 22:36). And Jesus, instead of responding with a single commandment, gives two:

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Matthew 22:37–39)

“Love God” is the first and greatest commandment, the crown of God’s good law. But such love never stands alone, Jesus says — nor is it chiefly known by outward acts of worship. Rather, love for God appears (or not) in how a person treats his neighbors. So, if you want to see someone’s spiritual sincerity more clearly, don’t mainly watch him in church. Watch him with his children. Watch him at work. Watch him in traffic. Watch him when offended. For you will know him by his neighbor-love.

Jesus’s Most-Quoted Verse

While the first and greatest commandment appears in the Shema — perhaps the most prominent Old Testament passage (Deuteronomy 6:5) — “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” may seem all but buried beneath the laws and ceremonies of Leviticus. But not to Jesus. Leviticus 19:18 became his most-quoted verse — and the most-quoted verse in the entire New Testament.

Why did Jesus repeatedly return to a passage we often rush through in Bible reading? For at least two reasons. First, Leviticus 19:18 summarizes, in remarkably compact form, the heart of God’s law as it relates to our relationships. As Paul would later write, “The one who loves another has fulfilled the law. For the commandments . . . are summed up in this word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’” (Romans 13:8–9). Leviticus 19:18 is like the brief surfacing of an underground river that runs through the whole Old Testament, giving life to every law.

Yet Jesus returned to Leviticus 19:18 for another reason as well: perhaps more than anything else, neighbor-love reveals the sincerity of our religion. John Calvin notes how the first table of the Ten Commandments (relating to the love of God) “was usually either in the intention of the heart, or in ceremonies.” But, Calvin continues, “the intention of the heart did not show itself, and the hypocrites continually busied themselves with ceremonies.” Which is one reason why God gave the second table of the law (relating to love of neighbor), for “the works of love are such that through them we witness real righteousness” (Institutes, 2.8.52).

Here, in everyday interactions with family, friends, strangers, and enemies, the hidden heart appears. Hence, in the parable of the good Samaritan, Jesus illustrates true spirituality not by religious ceremony (in which the priest and the Levite excelled) but by practical mercy (Luke 10:30–37). Without such mercy, the most scrupulous religious observance becomes the white paint on a coffin (Matthew 23:27). As Jesus said in another repeated quotation, “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice” (Matthew 9:13; 12:7; quoting Hosea 6:6). Better to lend a hand on the side of the road than to arrive at the temple on time.

The spiritually dead can perform many religious ceremonies. They can gather with God’s people, pray long and often, memorize God’s laws, and tithe with precision. But they cannot love their neighbor as God requires.

Broader Neighbor, Deeper Love

At this point, however, we might ask, “Yes, neighbor-love reveals our spiritual sincerity, but can’t neighbor-love itself be feigned?” Indeed it can. Many Jews of Jesus’s day imagined they were obeying Leviticus 19:18 when they were actually obeying a command of their own making — a diminished and domesticated command more friendly to the flesh.

“Anyone can love lovely neighbors. But loving the hostile and the needy is a mark of Christlike grace.”

And so may we. The nineteenth-century preacher John Broadus notes how, precisely when we think we are loving our neighbors as ourselves, we may actually “be loving only [ourselves] — a kind of expanded selfishness” (quoted in Matthew, 160). Jesus often went to war with such “expanded selfishness.” He will not allow us to shrink neighbor-love to the level of unregenerate powers. Then and now, loving our neighbor as ourselves calls for something far beyond ourselves.

So, to stab us awake and send us running to God for mercy and help, Jesus not only tells us to love our neighbor, but he also reclaims the true meanings of neighbor and love.

Who Is My Neighbor?

When confronted with such a staggering command as “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” one of our first natural impulses is to narrow the meaning of neighbor to those who are easy to love.

The first time our Lord quotes Leviticus 19:18, he also quotes a popular addition to the command: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy’” (Matthew 5:43). Scour the Old Testament as we may, we will not land upon a command to hate our enemies (and we will find, to the contrary, commands such as Exodus 23:4–5). So, against the natural impulse to exclude enemies from the company of our neighbors, Jesus says, “Love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44).

Alongside enemies, the needy can easily be denied neighbor status, especially if those needy ones have no near relation to us. So, when a lawyer, “desiring to justify himself,” asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus has him picture a half-dead, stranded man, the kind of needy person who threatens to upend our schedule and empty our wallet (Luke 10:29–30). You may not know him; he may have no claim on you besides being a fellow human. But if you are near to him and able to help, then this needy one is your neighbor.

To assess the depth of our neighbor-love, then, we can ask who receives our regular care and attention. For whom do we pray (Matthew 5:44)? To whom do we “do good” (Luke 6:27)? And whom do we go out of our way to greet (Matthew 5:47)? Does the list include any enemies — those who offend us, provoke us, try us, wrong us, or simply ignore us? And does the list include any needy — the kind of people who disrupt your day and “cannot repay you” (Luke 14:14)?

If not, then our list of neighbors needs to grow. “For if you love those who love you,” Jesus asks us, “what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same?” (Matthew 5:46). Anyone can love lovely neighbors. But loving the hostile and the needy is a mark of Christlike grace.

What Is Love?

Perhaps the lawyer’s question (“Who is my neighbor?”) is not our own. Perhaps we know neighbor spreads over our fellow humans whole, impartial as the sky. But what of love? Here as well, Jesus will not let us narrow the definition to something doable apart from him.

One of the most profound descriptions of true neighbor-love appears in what we know as the Golden Rule:

Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets. (Matthew 7:12)

“This is the Law and the Prophets” bears a striking resemblance to Matthew 22:40, where Jesus says that “all the Law and the Prophets” depend on the two great commandments — suggesting that the Golden Rule offers the gold standard for neighbor-love. And what a standard it offers.

Here we find an active, practical love, a love that goes beyond well-wishing to well-doing. Here we find an imaginative love that gives time and thought to what would truly benefit another. Here we find a self-denying love that serves others regardless of how they have served us. And here we find a broad, capacious love, one whose limits extend to “whatever you wish.” “Love your neighbor” pushes us further outward than we often go, bidding us to put our neighbors at the forefront of our consciousness rather than treating them as the background characters to the play starring me.

So, along with asking whom we love, we might ask how we love. Does our love regularly inconvenience us? Does it flow from a heart warm with desire for another’s welfare in Christ? Does it take shape in concrete action rather than remaining in the mouth or imagination? And for the task-oriented among us: Do our to-do lists include the varied needs of others, and not only our own?

He Neighbored Among Us

When Jesus commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves, then, he tells us to love all our neighbors — including enemies and the needy. And he tells us to really love them — applying to them the measure of our self-love. Such love, however imperfect (and imperfect it will be till heaven), infallibly marks those who truly love God.

Yet if the first commandment becomes visible through the second, the second becomes possible only through the first. Jesus commands a deeper love than our fallen hearts can offer. He commands a love that comes from God — indeed, a love that comes from the very God who became our neighbor. Jesus, to show us this righteousness and to be for us this righteousness, came and neighbored among us.

In him, we see flawless neighbor-love unfold amid a demanding life. Here is one who loved the enemy and the outsider, who healed centurions’ sons and sought Samaritan sinners. Here is one who loved others as himself, allowing endless needs and persistent pleas to interrupt his days and infringe on his rest. Here is one who loved his neighbor even when that neighbor held a hammer and nails to his skin.

More than that, here is one who loved us — needier than a half-dead man on the roadside, more hostile than any enemy we’ve known. Only love such as his can bend our hearts away from religious formalism to obey the first commandment. And only love such as his can fill our hearts enough to obey the second. Loving our neighbors as ourselves flows from being loved by Jesus, deeply and daily.

“Let every Christian take up the duty of Christian love with tenfold seriousness,” the Scottish pastor Maurice Roberts once wrote. And let him do it by beholding Jesus with tenfold attention, devotion, and love.

Audio Transcript

Starting today, we have a bundle of apologetics questions lined up on the person and work of Christ. Next time, we will look at several answers to the question, “Why did Jesus leave earth after Easter?” Imagine if Christ were still here with us. Well, he’s not. Why not? That will be APJ 1978. Then, a week from now, we’ll address the question, “Why didn’t Jesus have to pay eternally for our sins?” Isn’t that the price — eternal judgment? So, why is his suffering done? That will be APJ 1979, on the 25th of this month. Then comes the question, “Why don’t we have more archaeological or historically written evidence for the death and resurrection of Christ?” That will be APJ 1981, our first episode in October. A lot of ground to cover until then.

We start with today’s question. Because even if the Christian faith is untrue — if the cross and resurrection didn’t happen — aren’t Christians still happier than non-Christians in this life? Don’t our present life priorities make for a more fulfilling experience of this life than non-Christians seeking their joy in the world, even if we are wrong?

It’s a question from Chip, a listener from Georgia. “Pastor John, hello to you! Christian Hedonism seems to say that our deepest longings in this life can only be satisfied by God, and it’s only in him that we can be truly happy. If God makes us happier than people who simply pursue the world, why does Paul say we are to be pitied most of all men if there is no resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:19)? Even if Christ was not resurrected, isn’t our life, now, more satisfying than the life of the non-Christian?”

I’m smiling. I love sharp, biblically rooted questions. I’ve asked this; in fact, I’ve spoken on it. Years ago, I spoke to the Wycliffe folks in Cameroon on this very question, so I was trying to remember what I said. It is a really important and good question rooted in 1 Corinthians 15. So, let me just bring Chip up, and the rest of us, to where I’m thinking today. I don’t know that I have the completely satisfying answer, but I have some answers that have helped me.

Foretaste Awaiting Fullness

Just a clarification to start with about Christian joy in this painful life. A huge part of our joy as Christians is what Paul calls rejoicing “in hope” (Romans 5:2). In other words, joy is not complete in what we can know and have of God here now; our joy is “in hope” of what we will know and have of God in the future also. Our joy here is a foretaste of the fullness of joy there, and so it’s not complete now. We see through a glass darkly, and we know in part, so our joy is in part (1 Corinthians 13:12). It’s strong now, it’s deep now, it’s enough to carry the day now, but it’s nothing near what it will be.

“The joy we anticipate in the age to come flows back into this age in measure — not in fullness, but in measure.”

“Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). That means that the joy we anticipate in the age to come flows back into this age in measure — not in fullness, but in measure. “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Romans 5:3–4). We are a people who have this strange emotional experience of rejoicing in what we don’t yet have to make us happy.

So, I don’t want to overstate the joy of the Christian Hedonist in this age. It is not nearly what it will be in the age to come; much of it is anticipatory now.

Four Fearful Hypotheticals

So, here are the keywords that create the problem in 1 Corinthians 15. Paul’s talking about whether Christ has been raised from the dead or not.

If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain. We are even found to be misrepresenting God [that is, we’re false witnesses of God, liars about God], because we testified about God that he raised Christ, whom he did not raise if it is true that the dead are not raised. . . . If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. (1 Corinthians 15:14–15, 17–18)

We’re going to come back to that. That’s really crucial. “Christians have gone to hell. Those who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished; they’ve gone to hell.” Then he continues, “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Corinthians 15:19)

And the question is, How can Christians — who have more joy than anybody else — be most to be pitied? That’s the question. I’m asking, “Why did you say that, Paul?” I think I see four reasons.

1. We live under a delusion.

Evidently, Paul believes that delusion — a life of delusion — is to be pitied, even if it’s a happy delusion. It’s not just that what we’re experiencing in this life proves to be more or less happy in the other; it proves to be nonexistent in the other. If Christ is not raised from the dead, then my joy in the living Christ is not joy in the living Christ. There is no living Christ, and therefore, I am not experiencing joy in the living Christ. I am an absolute idiot — I’m a fool.

Paul’s first conviction, it seems to me, is that this is not true; Christ is raised. And his second conviction is that it’s a delusion if he’s not raised, and it’s an enormous delusion, more pitiable than anything he could think of, evidently. So, that’s the first reason: a delusionary life — a life lived in absolute delusion — is to be pitied.

2. We suffer in vain.

Paul’s life would be pitiable because he willingly embraced so much suffering that he could have avoided. Those sufferings were sustained by Paul’s joy in Christ, not the other way around. The sufferings didn’t create the joy in this life. If there’s no resurrection, those sufferings were absolutely pointless.

3. We renounce sin in vain.

We deny ourselves many pleasures here precisely for the sake of the reward of the age to come. Jesus said, “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad [now], for your reward is great in heaven” (Matthew 5:11–12).

“If Christ and we are not raised from the dead, then Paul doesn’t infer atheism; he infers hell.”

So, we renounce retaliation and the joy of getting back at people. We renounce the comforts of fitting into the world so that we don’t ever have to be criticized or reviled. Why? Precisely because we believe it will be made up to us in heaven, which means we didn’t just fail to maximize the pleasures we could have had here, but we bargained that the self-denial would be rewarded in the resurrection — and there is no resurrection, and the bargain failed.

4. We slander God and hell awaits us.

If Christ and we are not raised from the dead, then Paul doesn’t infer atheism; he infers hell. We enter a worse punishment in hell than others, because we didn’t just make a mistake; we actively misrepresented God. Oftentimes, I’ve read this chapter in this argument as though, “Well, if there’s no resurrection for the dead, the whole biblical religion is false. There is no God. Que será, será. Let’s eat, drink, and be merry.”

That is not what Paul does. He didn’t argue like that. He says, “If Christ has not been raised, God’s going to send me to hell, because I’ve been telling everybody that this is his Son and he’s been raised from the dead, and I am a false prophet. And therefore, I am of all people most to be pitied, for I’m going to get the worst punishment.”

Most to Be Pitied

So, in sum, if there is no risen Christ — no resurrection of believers unto eternal reward and joy — then (1) Christian life is a delusion, (2) voluntary suffering is painfully pointless, (3) hope in heaven is futile, and all our self-denials based on that hope were ridiculous, and (4) any attempt to speak for the living Christ would be a damnable scam and a false prophecy, which would deserve hell even more than others, and we would perish under that severe sentence. So, we are, of all people, most to be pitied.

Audio Transcript

What would it look like in your life to know that God loves you — I mean to know that he really loves you? Would that love be proven in a new job? Or maybe a better job? Would it be an open door that will allow you greater financial independence? Maybe it would be to find a spouse. Or maybe deliverance from chronic pain that depletes your energy. Or maybe it would look like being delivered from the consuming demands of a special needs child. What would prove God’s love to you? And what if the answer to that question was something altogether different than what we expected? What if, instead of any of these things, God showed his love to you by letting you die in sickness? Crazy, right? Totally counterintuitive. And yet this is exactly what we read about in John 11:1–44. Listen to this extraordinary story, because in it we find a life-changing lesson God wants all of us to grasp. Here’s Pastor John to explain, in one of his sermons from 2001.

This is John 11. I have used this text now in about five settings in the last couple of months because no other text has gripped me like this in driving home this central point.

Love and Glory

Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was ill. (John 11:1–2)

This is clearly a picture of sweetness and love. Mary loved Jesus, and Jesus loved Mary. Mark that word love. It will show up several more times.

So the sisters sent to him, saying, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” But when Jesus heard it he said, “This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” (John 11:3–4)

So now you have two profound realities on the table: love and glory — the love of Christ and the glory of Christ. My question is, How do they relate to each other? Verse 5:

Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.

“Until Christ becomes our treasure, we don’t know what it is to be loved by God.”

Notice three things: (1) Jesus chose to let Lazarus die. (2) He was motivated in this by his zeal for the glory of God to be manifest. (3) This motivation is love.

Do you see the word so, or therefore, at the beginning of verse 6? Do you see what it’s preceded by and followed by? It’s preceded by the fact that Jesus loved Martha; Jesus loved Mary; Jesus loved the dying man, Lazarus. Therefore, he did not go heal him but stayed two days longer where he was and saw to it that he died.

Why Do You Want to Be Loved by God?

Now, what on earth could possibly turn that into love? Verse 4: This is not going to end in death. This is all about the glory of God, “that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”

So here’s my definition of the love of God based on this text: God’s love is his doing whatever needs to be done, at whatever cost, so that we will see and be satisfied with the glory of God in Jesus Christ. Let me say it again: the love of God is his doing whatever needs to be done, at whatever cost to himself or to us, so that we will see and be satisfied by the love of God in Christ forever and ever.

Let me confirm this with John 17:24. Here’s Jesus praying for us, and he loves us in this prayer — oh how he loves us in this prayer. John 17:24: “Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory.” If Jesus loves you and prays for you, do you know what he finally asks for you? That you may see him. The ultimate answer to the prayer of love is, “Show them my glory, Father. Show them my glory, and they will have arrived at ultimate satisfaction.”

Why do you want to be loved by God? Yes, not to perish. Yes, not to go to hell. Yes, not to have a guilty conscience anymore. Yes, to have the marriage put back together. But if that’s all you want, you don’t know him. You don’t know him. It’s for life. And what is life? It is to know him and his Son. It’s to fellowship with him. It’s to behold him. It’s to be satisfied with him. It’s to enjoy him. Until Christ becomes our treasure, we don’t know what it is to be loved by God.

Why are you thankful for the love of God today? I hope, before we’re done, God will have worked in your heart so that you see enough of God the Father and enough of God the Son, Jesus Christ, so that you will know and feel that it is not finally for the relief of your conscience, it is not finally for escape from hell, it is not finally for health in our bodies, or reconciliation among our family members; it is finally to bring you home to God, where you can see him and enjoy him forever and ever and ever.

Seeing and Savoring Forever

I want to know: Do you want this? Do you want this? Do you want to be loved by God for God? Do you want to be loved by God for God? Or do you only want to be loved by God because it feels good that he seems to make much of you? Have you taken the American definition of love — being made much of — and so twisted God to fit that definition that the only way you would feel loved by God is if he makes much of you, when, in fact, the love of God is working so as to change you so that you enjoy making much of him forever and ever and ever? And that’s the end of your quest. There isn’t anything beyond it.

“You will be satisfied when you forget yourself and are swallowed up in Jesus Christ, and he becomes your treasure.”

I do believe that is in every heart in this room. And we are all fallen, and we are all sinners. I know that every person in this room has a distorted desire for God, and it’s on the way to being purified. And it’s being tricked. You’re being tricked, many of you, into thinking that the satisfying thing in life is to be made much of: “If I could just get some people to clap for me, to like me, to approve of me, to give me a raise, or to give me an advancement. If I could just get someone to pay attention to me, I would be satisfied.” You wouldn’t. I promise you, in the name of Jesus Christ Almighty, you wouldn’t.

You will be satisfied when you forget yourself and are swallowed up in Jesus Christ, and he becomes your treasure, and he becomes your delight, and he becomes what you cherish and what you value, and you spend the rest of your eternity growing in your capacity to see and savor, to know and to delight in him forever and ever — and it will get better and better and better.