Unconditional Love is Beyond My Reach

Unconditional love is beyond my reach.

I can’t do it.

I love people. Some of them I even love well. But even my best love is far from unconditional. It doesn’t reach the agape heights of God’s perfect love—it's imperfect, limited, deeply human. It is not the same as the perfect, holy, agape love of God. The closest I come is in the love I have for my wife. This love is born of the divine, but it fits more in the category of “Eros”—a passionate, shared desire for union, beauty, and meaning in our relationship. I love my friends and co-workers—the people with whom I share a sense of connection and shared vision, even across our diversity. This love is also born of the divine, but it is best described as “Philia.” I love the people with whom I share a deeper affection—my kids, close friends and extended family members. This love is also born of the divine, but is best described as “Storge.”

Love’s origin is divine—it all (Agape, Eros, Philia, Storge) comes from God, but not all love is the same. These Greek words for love (and expressions of them) show up in meaningful ways throughout Scripture—especially in moments of deep transformation. One of the most poignant examples is the conversation between Jesus and Peter in John 21. This is after Peter’s denial, after the crucifixion and resurrection. Around a charcoal fire, Jesus asks, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”

“Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.”

I think Peter answers the question more honestly than I sometimes realize.

Jesus asks Peter if he loves him (agape). Peter says yes—but not the kind of yes Jesus is asking for. The love Peter says he has for Jesus is Philia—a shared sense of connection and shared vision—but not agape. His yes is also a no. Not long before this conversation (and countless times in their relationship) Peter showed the imperfections of his love for Jesus. Three times, when asked about his relationship with Jesus, Peter denied even knowing him. This is the same Peter who back in John 13:37 said, “I will lay down my life for you.” But given the opportunity, Peter showed the limits and conditions of his love. Peter doesn’t know how to “agape” and he admits it. He loves Jesus, but his love for Jesus isn’t greater than any of the rest.

Here’s what I find interesting. Peter admits he doesn’t “agape” Jesus, but Jesus doesn’t say, “Well, you should!” Figure it out and come back to me when you know how to really love.” No, instead Jesus says, “Feed my lambs.” “You don’t know how to love me like I love you, but keep doing what we’ve been doing together, anyway...keep loving people with me, because I’ve got the agape part covered.”

But Peter hadn’t denied Jesus just once, so Jesus asked him again, “Do you love (agape) me?”

Same answer.

“Yes, Lord; you know that I love (Philia) you, but I don’t know how to ‘agape.’”

“I know you don’t know how to agape, that’s why you need to stay with me. Tend my sheep… keep doing what we’ve been doing, but don’t forget, we do this together.”

Peter denied Jesus three times, so Jesus asks again, “Do you love (Philia) me? It’s a different question this time. It’s not a hurtful question, but it draws Peter’s hurt to the surface. “Do you ‘Philia’ me?”
“Yes.”
“Feed my sheep. You know how to love, and all love is divine. Your Philia (and your Eros and Storge, for that matter) will point people to my Agape for them. Your job isn’t to be me or even love exactly as I do. It is to take care of and feed your siblings in Christ. You don’t have to love for me… just love with me.”

What might it look like to love “with” Jesus, not “for” him? Is it like cooking beside a chef, or like dancing to someone else’s rhythm, or like tending a garden where someone else has already done the hard work of breaking the soil?

Unconditional love is beyond my reach.

I can’t do it, but Jesus is great at it!

So I’ll keep feeding lambs, walking with my imperfect love beside the one whose love has no cracks. I’ll let my love—however incomplete—be a window to his.