Courageous Love
Created for Love: Why the Church's Greatest Witness Is Not What You Think
There is a moment in Matthew 24 that tends to get overlooked. Jesus is sitting with his disciples on the Mount of Olives, and they are asking him about the end times. Most people, when they read this passage, focus on the dramatic signs — the earthquakes, the floods, the upheaval in the heavens. But Jesus saves his most pointed warning for something far less spectacular and far more dangerous. He warns that in the last days, lawlessness will abound, and because of it, the love of many will grow cold (Matthew 24:12).
That one sentence deserves far more attention than it typically receives.
Because what Jesus is describing is not just a moral decline. He is describing a spiritual crisis at the very core of what it means to follow him. And when you understand that lawlessness, at its root, is simply lovelessness, the warning hits differently. Every act of theft, betrayal, hatred, and indifference traces back to the same source: a failure to love. Jesus himself said that all of the law and the prophets hang on love (Matthew 22:37-40). Love is not one commandment among many. It is the commandment from which all others flow.
This means that the greatest deception of the last days is not a political ideology or a theological heresy. It is the quiet, reasonable-sounding justification for pulling back your love from another person.
The Upgrade We Have Been Given
The Old Covenant called God's people to love their neighbors as themselves (Leviticus 19:18). That was already a high standard. But then Jesus arrived and issued what he called a new commandment: love one another as he has loved us (John 13:34). This is not a replacement for the old command. It is an upgrade. The standard is no longer self-love. The standard is the cross.
And then Jesus attached a staggering promise to this new commandment. He said that the world would know his disciples by this love (John 13:35). Not by their theological precision. Not by the size of their gatherings or the quality of their programs. By their love for one another.
This raises a sobering question. If the watching world has not yet been fully convinced, what does that tell us about the state of our love for one another?
The Word We Translate Too Quickly
In 1 John, the apostle John writes repeatedly about hatred toward a brother or sister. It is easy to read those passages and assume they do not apply to us, because we do not think of ourselves as hateful people. But the word John uses carries a meaning that is far more convicting than outright hostility. It also means to love less, to pull back your love, to withdraw from connection.
Suddenly, the passage becomes uncomfortably personal.
John goes on to say that when we do this, when we pull back our love from another person, darkness moves in (1 John 2:9-11). Not as a metaphor. As a spiritual reality. Because we were not created for withdrawal. We were created for love. We were born of God, and God is love (1 John 4:8). To pull back love is to fight against our own nature. It is no wonder that it feels so wrong when we do it.
The Silent Killer
There is something more dangerous than conflict, and it is indifference. Conflict, as uncomfortable as it is, at least signals that something still matters. Indifference is the spiritual version of what Revelation 3 describes as lukewarmness. It is the slow death of connection, the gradual fading of care.
This is why avoiding hard conversations is not the humble or peaceful choice it appears to be. First John 4:17-18 makes clear that perfect love produces boldness, even in moments of difficulty and judgment. If fear is causing someone to avoid a necessary conversation, that is not love operating. That is fear dressed up as kindness.
True love is courageous. It is risky. It puts itself out there, knowing full well the possibility of rejection. Jesus himself demonstrated this at the cross, extending love to those who mocked and crucified him. The rejection he bore was perhaps the deepest wound of all. And yet love did not retreat.
Quick to Fight, Quicker to Forgive
Jesus himself acknowledged in Luke 17:1 that offenses are inevitable. They will come. This is simply the reality of living in close relationship with other people. The question is never whether conflict will arise. The question is what happens after it does.
Conflict is not the enemy of community. Unresolved conflict is. When a fight leads to honest conversation, and that conversation leads to deeper connection, something beautiful has happened. The friction became a doorway. But when offense is left unaddressed, it hardens into betrayal, and betrayal curdles into hatred. This is the very progression Jesus warns about in Matthew 24.
The church needs to recover a culture where conflict is handled with speed and humility. Where people are quick to speak honestly and quicker still to forgive. Where broken connection is treated as the emergency it actually is.
The Witness the World Is Waiting For
First John 5:8 speaks of a threefold witness in the earth: the Spirit, the water, and the blood. These are covenant realities. They are the markers of a relationship that has been established, sealed, and sustained. And they are meant to speak. Just as the blood of Abel cried out from the ground (Genesis 4:10), covenant speaks.
The greatest evangelistic tool available to the church is not a program or a platform. It is the visible, tangible, covenant love of God's people for one another. The world is hungry for community. It is starving for genuine connection. It has watched social media promise belonging and deliver isolation.
The church has something the world cannot manufacture: a love that never fails (1 Corinthians 13:8). Not because the people are perfect, but because the God who is love lives in them, and whatever is born of God overcomes the world (1 John 5:4).
You were created for love. Not as an aspiration. As a declaration of identity. And when you walk in it, courageously and consistently, the world will notice.
There is a moment in Matthew 24 that tends to get overlooked. Jesus is sitting with his disciples on the Mount of Olives, and they are asking him about the end times. Most people, when they read this passage, focus on the dramatic signs — the earthquakes, the floods, the upheaval in the heavens. But Jesus saves his most pointed warning for something far less spectacular and far more dangerous. He warns that in the last days, lawlessness will abound, and because of it, the love of many will grow cold (Matthew 24:12).
That one sentence deserves far more attention than it typically receives.
Because what Jesus is describing is not just a moral decline. He is describing a spiritual crisis at the very core of what it means to follow him. And when you understand that lawlessness, at its root, is simply lovelessness, the warning hits differently. Every act of theft, betrayal, hatred, and indifference traces back to the same source: a failure to love. Jesus himself said that all of the law and the prophets hang on love (Matthew 22:37-40). Love is not one commandment among many. It is the commandment from which all others flow.
This means that the greatest deception of the last days is not a political ideology or a theological heresy. It is the quiet, reasonable-sounding justification for pulling back your love from another person.
The Upgrade We Have Been Given
The Old Covenant called God's people to love their neighbors as themselves (Leviticus 19:18). That was already a high standard. But then Jesus arrived and issued what he called a new commandment: love one another as he has loved us (John 13:34). This is not a replacement for the old command. It is an upgrade. The standard is no longer self-love. The standard is the cross.
And then Jesus attached a staggering promise to this new commandment. He said that the world would know his disciples by this love (John 13:35). Not by their theological precision. Not by the size of their gatherings or the quality of their programs. By their love for one another.
This raises a sobering question. If the watching world has not yet been fully convinced, what does that tell us about the state of our love for one another?
The Word We Translate Too Quickly
In 1 John, the apostle John writes repeatedly about hatred toward a brother or sister. It is easy to read those passages and assume they do not apply to us, because we do not think of ourselves as hateful people. But the word John uses carries a meaning that is far more convicting than outright hostility. It also means to love less, to pull back your love, to withdraw from connection.
Suddenly, the passage becomes uncomfortably personal.
John goes on to say that when we do this, when we pull back our love from another person, darkness moves in (1 John 2:9-11). Not as a metaphor. As a spiritual reality. Because we were not created for withdrawal. We were created for love. We were born of God, and God is love (1 John 4:8). To pull back love is to fight against our own nature. It is no wonder that it feels so wrong when we do it.
The Silent Killer
There is something more dangerous than conflict, and it is indifference. Conflict, as uncomfortable as it is, at least signals that something still matters. Indifference is the spiritual version of what Revelation 3 describes as lukewarmness. It is the slow death of connection, the gradual fading of care.
This is why avoiding hard conversations is not the humble or peaceful choice it appears to be. First John 4:17-18 makes clear that perfect love produces boldness, even in moments of difficulty and judgment. If fear is causing someone to avoid a necessary conversation, that is not love operating. That is fear dressed up as kindness.
True love is courageous. It is risky. It puts itself out there, knowing full well the possibility of rejection. Jesus himself demonstrated this at the cross, extending love to those who mocked and crucified him. The rejection he bore was perhaps the deepest wound of all. And yet love did not retreat.
Quick to Fight, Quicker to Forgive
Jesus himself acknowledged in Luke 17:1 that offenses are inevitable. They will come. This is simply the reality of living in close relationship with other people. The question is never whether conflict will arise. The question is what happens after it does.
Conflict is not the enemy of community. Unresolved conflict is. When a fight leads to honest conversation, and that conversation leads to deeper connection, something beautiful has happened. The friction became a doorway. But when offense is left unaddressed, it hardens into betrayal, and betrayal curdles into hatred. This is the very progression Jesus warns about in Matthew 24.
The church needs to recover a culture where conflict is handled with speed and humility. Where people are quick to speak honestly and quicker still to forgive. Where broken connection is treated as the emergency it actually is.
The Witness the World Is Waiting For
First John 5:8 speaks of a threefold witness in the earth: the Spirit, the water, and the blood. These are covenant realities. They are the markers of a relationship that has been established, sealed, and sustained. And they are meant to speak. Just as the blood of Abel cried out from the ground (Genesis 4:10), covenant speaks.
The greatest evangelistic tool available to the church is not a program or a platform. It is the visible, tangible, covenant love of God's people for one another. The world is hungry for community. It is starving for genuine connection. It has watched social media promise belonging and deliver isolation.
The church has something the world cannot manufacture: a love that never fails (1 Corinthians 13:8). Not because the people are perfect, but because the God who is love lives in them, and whatever is born of God overcomes the world (1 John 5:4).
You were created for love. Not as an aspiration. As a declaration of identity. And when you walk in it, courageously and consistently, the world will notice.
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