[Jesus said:] “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. (John 14:15)
Well, that gets right to the point, doesn't it?
I can imagine that such a direct and simple statement from Jesus might make us start to squirm a little in our seats. Maybe for a host of reasons.
I mean, for starters, at first blush, this sounds too much like the way manipulators talk: "If you really loved, me, you would buy me that new car..." or "If you really loved me, Mom and Dad, you would let me stay up past my bedtime and give me candy." It may well turn out that Jesus is doing something different here (read on to see what I think that is), but Jesus' words sound precariously similar.
Another concern that we might raise--especially we Lutherans--is that it sure sounds like Jesus has a list of requirements we have to carry out before we can be in a right relationship with him. This verse might set our Lutheran Spider-Sense tingling, since it could sound to our ears like Jesus is saying, "If you want to be included in my love, you have to prove your worthiness by following my rules and obeying my commands." And that would sure seem to run afoul of the Gospel's insistence (especially as Saint Paul would put it) that we are put in a right relationship with God apart from our earning it, and that we receive God's love as a gift of grace, not a prize we earn. Now, again, it may indeed be that Jesus isn't saying what our first reaction takes him to mean, but we should acknowledge that it does sound like he is saying we have to earn our way into his love by our obedience.
And maybe underneath all of that is just the honest nervousness we have about surrendering our lives to Jesus. There is some part of us that doesn't want to give up control of our lives, our priorities, and our choices to doing what Jesus says. Some part of us wants to protest, "Ok, Jesus, but what if I don't WANT to do what you command? What if it doesn't fit with my plans or work into my schedule? What if you call me to love people I do not want to love... or speak up for people when I would rather keep quiet? What if keeping your commandments rearranges how I spend my money, my time, and my energy?" And I'll be honest with you here: I don't think this reason for our nervousness is going away. We really are going to have to wrestle with the question of whether we will do what Jesus calls us to do, even when it challenges our old understandings... even when it pushes us out of our comfort zones... and even when it leads us to people and places we were afraid of.
As for the first two concerns, yeah, let's deal with them and get them out of the way. We'll come back to our hesitancy to let Jesus actually direct our lives in a bit. First off, there's the question of whether Jesus sounds like some kind of emotional manipulator with this verse. When he says, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments," is it the same as a scheming gold-digger or a greedy child demanding a present or a favor as "proof" of love?
I don't think so. Jesus doesn't say this to lay a guilt trip on us, but rather to say, "This is what love for me will look like--you'll want to do the things I would have you do." When I am trying to do something kind for my spouse, for example, there is some part of me that knows it would be a big help if I would take the trash out, do the laundry, or run the vacuum. Because I love her, I want to do things that will be helpful to her--and to our household. When I am trying to do something kind for my kids, I know already the kind of special drinks or snacks to get at the store--if I come home with only MY favorite kind of snacks and leave them nothing, I'm showing them that I'm deliberately making the choice only to look out for myself. Love isn't about earning your place by measuring up, but it certainly does involve finding ways to express it. And part of loving someone means knowing them well enough (or growing to learn them well enough) that you can tell what things would matter to them, and what things would not be on their wish-lists. You learn to speak their "love-language," as they say. So when Jesus says, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments," it has the thrust of saying, "I don't need you to carve marble statues of me, set up giant cross monuments, or build an empire in my name--the way to love me is for you to love other people." That's not being manipulative; it's cutting to the chase.
I think that helps address the second concern--the case of the Lutheran Spider-sense that worries about having to "earn" God's love with our good deeds. Because when we actually listen to what Jesus says, there is no discussion at all about how we acquire God's love. We already have it, after all. Jesus doesn't say, "If you want God to love you, keep my commandments," but rather, "If you want to love me, the way you do that is to make my way of life into your way of life, to love the people I direct you to love, to trust that my directions are good for you and everyone all around." It is manifestly not about what we have to do in order to get into relationship with God or earn God's love. It is instead about what happens when we realize we have been loved already and find that God's love for us calls forth from us love in response. And in that case, it's a perfectly appropriate question--"indeed, right and salutary," as the old liturgy used to say it. After all, I can't show love to Jesus in most of the ways I show love to other people in my life. I can't make Jesus a grilled cheese sandwich like I do for my daughter. I can't drive Jesus to soccer practice or basketball camp like I can for my son. I can't go on a walk at sunset or save the last piece of pie for Jesus like I can for my wife. But what I can do is to love the people Jesus has put in my life--not only my family, but also neighbors, strangers, and enemies, too, since Jesus has commanded me to love all of those folks. None of those actions are about "earning" anything--they are simply the form that love takes in different moments and different relationships. And as you know if you have ever loved anybody in this life, the chance to show love to them isn't drudgery or dues-paying, but the greatest privilege there is. When you love someone, you want to do the things that will bring them joy. You're not gaming the system or angling for some kind of perk; you are simply doing the most natural thing in the world in response to the way you have been loved. So we can put away our well-intentioned Lutheran worry about "works' righteousness" and any thought that Jesus is trying to get us to work our way into God's love. He ain't. Instead, Jesus is simply telling us, "If you are looking for ways to show love to me, the thing I have in mind is that you do the kinds of things I taught you all to do."
Now, with both of those concerns out of the way, we can face the one that is left: to be honest, sometimes we just don't like the idea of surrendering control of our lives to Jesus. If loving Jesus means doing what he has taught us to do, then we know we are committed to leading by serving, forgiving debts, owning up to our failures, crossing boundaries to reach out to outcasts, loving the unlovely, and sharing our abundance. And--again, to put cards on the table here--some part of us is scared at the prospect of any of that, because the conventional wisdom around us thinks all of those practices are foolish, weak-looking, or the kind of thing that "losers" do. There's the rub: we are afraid to do what Jesus has actually directed us to do, and some part of us doesn't want to face the fact that Jesus says those are the ways to show that we love him, and not the large majority of religious baggage we have piled on over the centuries. We would rather put on a good show than just love our neighbor. We would rather wear the cross necklace and scowl at sinners than actually doing what Jesus calls us to do. That's what really frightens us, I suspect, about Jesus' clear statement, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments."
Maybe today is a day to face those fears, deal with the discomfort, and dare to make Jesus' way of life to be our own way of life anyway. We might still feel uncomfortable. We might have to work at unclenching our fists from control over our lives. We might have to accept that it will be a daily struggle to make Jesus' way of life our own more fully and deeply. But when you love someone--or even when you discover you have been loved already--somehow it feels like it is worth the struggling to spend your energy on the things that matter to your beloved. So maybe today is a day to love Jesus, by loving the people who come across our path, and see where things go from there.
It's worth a try, don't you think?
Lord Jesus, enable us to love you more fully and deeply, by doing what you have directed us to in this day.
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