I experienced something of an emotional crisis during my wife’s second pregnancy. It didn’t last, but it was very real. Over a period of several days, I found myself nearly overcome with fear that I wouldn’t have the capacity to love our second child. I think I knew better, but I imagined my love as a limited resource that had already been fully invested in our firstborn. And now, I was afraid there would be nothing left to offer her sibling. But thankfully, it wasn’t long before I discovered that parental love is not a zero-sum game where someone can win only if someone else loses. It’s as though something opens up in the hearts of moms and dads that taps into a limitless reservoir. And I’ve come to understand that that something is a gift from God that reflects how he loves all of us equally.
Having completed his ministry to the crowds as well as his debates with the religious leaders, the thirteenth chapter of John’s Gospel launches the section that reveals Jesus fully focused on the cross and preparing his disciples for what would follow. It strategically provides details regarding this season of the Lord’s ministry that the earlier-written, synoptic Gospels don’t. And it begins with a moving account of the master washing his disciples’ feet that results in a vivid lesson on servanthood. But the first two verses set the stage for that episode by giving us a majestic description of the love that motivated Christ’s mission set against a backdrop of the sinister satanic maneuverings at work to stop it.
The Passover feast was approaching. It was the final one Jesus would celebrate with his disciples – The Last Supper, as it would come to be known. And although the Lord was keenly aware his crucifixion was imminent, instead of turning inward to brace himself for the impending suffering, verse 1 tells us that “having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”
At the point when anyone else would have become self-absorbed, he continued to focus his loving attention on others. Yes, the text clearly refers to the Twelve. But if we stop to consider who these men were, we can easily locate ourselves in their company and hear these life-giving words as an expression of the Savior’s heart for everyone.
These weren’t stained-glass saints whose holiness merited special affection. Within hours, Peter would deny he ever knew Jesus. James and John were impulsive and arrogant. Bartholomew was prejudiced against Galileans. Matthew was a white-collar criminal, Thomas a skeptic, and Simon a political revolutionary. And then there’s the ultimate villain of the Gospel narrative: Judas. Verse two makes clear that among those Jesus would love to the end was a man who by the time the seder meal was served that evening had already embraced a Satan-inspired determination to betray him to the Jewish authorities.
If that couldn’t disqualify someone from the steadfast love of Christ, nothing can.
Even if our theology is better than this, many of us subconsciously believe God’s love is a limited resource, and he manages it by giving more or less of it to certain people based on the worthiness of their piety. But none of us deserve God’s love. Romans 3:23 plainly states we’ve all sinned and fallen short of God’s standards. And yet Romans 5:8 says, “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
His is a limitless love that envelopes each of us equally in its embrace. A love that 1 Corinthians 13:8 tells us will never fail. So, if you’ve marginalized yourself in terms of how you imagine the quality and quantity of the love God has for you, think again. His Father-love is not a zero-sum game.