Faith working through love (Gal. 5:6): An introduction to the “alleylon” (one another) passages in the New Testament

In his letter to some unnamed group of disciples, James, the brother of Jesus, makes the familiar and formerly controversial statement that “faith without works is dead.” I don’t know that James’ comment is particularly divisive in our day, but we do know that Martin Luther and others did not have it on their list of favorite memory verses. Since I haven’t heard anyone recently deriding the notion that outward manifestations of faith are crucial indicators of a believer’s spiritual health, I think it is safe to proceed with a series of posts on the interaction between faith and love.

I’ve already given my one and only clue as to how I am going to go about the task, which is to examine some of the New Testament passages encouraging us to relate in loving ways to “one another.” My initial impression was that there would be a small enough sample that I could pretty much write about all of them. After counting 57 varieties (sorry, Heinz) or variations on the commandment, I realized that, a.) a year of one anothers might drive us all crazy, and b.) there are enough similarities among different verses that we can make small family groups of related ideas and it will keep me from getting out of hand.

The first question that you might ask about my choice of topic is, “Why?” There are few biblical subjects that appear more in analysis, discussion, conversation, disputation, or song and dance than that of loving our brothers and sisters. The obvious answer would highlight the importance that Jesus places on our connections to our fellow disciples. A similar response would point to the signature Old Testament emphasis on Israel as a people chosen by the Lord to represent him in the world. Taken together, the scriptural writings insist on a covenantal orientation to relationships – beginning with the trinitarian nature of God himself – and militate intensely against any and every individualistic reading of their contents.

On top of all that, Jesus goes so far as to tell his disciples that he is giving them a new command- ment about loving “as he loved us,” a verse that is so familiar that we miss how stunning it really is. And in the passage from Galatians 5 that I cited earlier, Paul says that the key to a Christian life is that it reveals “faith expressing itself through love.” It is important to realize that the context for Paul’s assertion is his insistence that Jews and gentiles come to discipleship via the exact same means of conversion, which is trusting in Jesus for their standing with God.

These are both radical ideas. For Jesus, the definition of love is bounded by his own life of service and ultimate sacrifice, culminating in the cross. For Paul, love is the necessary outcome of any claim to belief in the gospel. In the first instance, there are no shortcuts to demonstrating that we belong to Christ; as with the Beatitudes, the standard is the Son of God laying down his life for his friends. In the second, we find Paul opposing any thought that the works of love can arise from anything other than trusting and surrendering ourselves to Jesus, and that no one has a prior claim on God based on group status.

So the basis of our understanding and living out the “one another” verses is that love is the active result of faith. The relationship between the two is multi-dimensional, with each virtue always having reference to the other. There’s a huge amount of meaning packed into the faith/love interplay, and it is probably a good idea to look at a few elements of how they function together before we move on to specific passages.

The first question to ask is, “What is faith?” I would propose that it is a gift from God that conveys to us his own belief in himself. As one of the three eternal virtues (1 Cor. 13), faith begins in God and can come only from him. As we read the Scriptures, it becomes clear that the Lord is supremely self-confident, and is so without being arrogant or vainglorious. The Lord is never in doubt about his own sovereignty, his power, his mercy, his justice. He is never moved from his personal security by adverse situations – never anxious or troubled, even when he shares in our suffering. Faith allows us to access that same confidence in every one of the divine attributes: We believe with his belief, trust with his trust, rest with his rest.

Which opens a second question; “Why does faith lead to love?” I see several ways to answer. When we receive the gift of faith, we are able to experience and say yes to God’s goodness, his mercy, his kindness, his forgiveness. If I believe those things, then I am free to give myself to others as the Lord has given himself to me. The old saying that we cannot out-love or out-offer God is surely true here. Faith allows us to expect that the Father will cover us whenever we spend our lives in loving others. He is concerned for me; he cares for me; he has counted the hairs on my head and determined the number of my days. He has an account from which I can profligately draw all the grace that I need for loving my brothers and sisters. Why should I not avail myself of his inexhaustible gift and recklessly spend what he constantly replenishes?

Which then leads to one last question: What is in the way of our believing and loving as the Lord has loved us? As I have mentioned in a previous post, I have struggled with a somewhat unreconciled relationship with a brother whom I have known for many years. I am aware that it has been a while since the Holy Spirit began to bring poke at my conscience about my attitudes and how they affect the peace between us. Why do I resist moving toward a rapprochement? I would like to say that it’s complicated, but it probably isn’t. As is usually the case, I mostly thwart love by yielding to three different impulses:

1. Pride: Why should I be the first to engage? He hasn’t shown any inclination to reconcile and, besides, he is wronger than I am. I really doubt that he has the same inclination to resolve our issues that I do (evidence that I have pretty weak commitment notwithstanding).

2. Indifference: It’s not really that big a deal. I don’t think it will be fruitful. I’m probably being too scrupulous about it, and did I say that it’s probably no big deal? I imagine God would agree with me.

3. Self-concern: What if it doesn’t work out well? This looks like a pretty big commitment of time and energy. What will other people think about my going cap-in-hand to this guy (hmm, looks like another kind of pride creeping in)?

The bottom line is that faith is not working through love because there is a deficiency of faith, trust, surrender. Love is all about obedience; obedience only comes about when we believe. In every “one another” passage, this will be our starting point, our sustaining power, and our end in mind.