“‘I give you a new commandment, love each other. Just as I’ve loved you, you’ve got to love each other'” (John 13.34).
It was finished. That’s what Jesus said before he died. All things had been accomplished, and the following Sunday would be proof of that. I mean, after you’ve managed to redeem the world in a single, selfless act of love what else is necessary?
No wonder, then, Jesus tells his disciples on the night before this tragedy that he’s given them new marching orders, a new directive to love each other as he loved. He knew what was coming. He knew what his actions on the morrow would bring forth—a world where it was impossible to live any other way. It was the closing of a chapter, no a book of history. All that’s followed has been coda to a completed symphony.
And you don’t need me to tell you at this point that this isn’t at all how the story goes.
Growing up, I was taught, probably like a lot of you, that Jesus came to free us from the burden of all the laws and commandments the Jewish people had been living under. We Christians were given freedom from all of those restrictions.
But what I learned from our Jewish brothers and sisters is that Torah isn’t some burden but a privilege. Living a life in harmony with the teachings Moses gave was an opportunity to participate in the tikkun olam—the healing of Creation. That’s what Divine directives or commandments are about, bringing us into the work of redemption.
Jesus, on the night before his death, gives those who walk with him a new directive, to love each other as they’ve—we’ve—been loved. To go out into the world and live in such a way that no one has any doubt about who we follow. This is how we are to participate in the work of healing a broken world.
Least, that’s what it’s telling me. But I often act and go about my daily life as if what I said at the outset were true: that through Jesus’ death and resurrection the necessary work of this world is complete. As if the blood that spilled off the cross were some magic balm that sealed up every crack and fissure in the skin of Creation.
In other words, I act like all the hard work is finished and all I have to do is be nice to people. But if that were true, why would Jesus have bothered giving us a command? No one makes the easy stuff into directives.
Love each other, Jesus told the disciples, not because it’ll be easy but because it’s hard. It continues to be hard even though death has been defeated. Because, though Christ could do it all, he’s invited us to participate in the mending of what has been long broken.
So that we can sit down one day and say, yes, it is finished.
Fellow Traveler, to walk with you is to love as you love, even and especially when it seems hardest to do so. Help me to keep this new command before me; so, I might do my part in making the dream of your Reign a reality.