PICTURE THE APOSTLE John living in the Old West (indeed, I can actually imagine some preachy, gunslinging outlaw named John styling himself as “The Apostle”). If there were a wanted poster putting a price on his head, it would have to list all his aliases. We’ve seen one already: “John the Apostle, a.k.a. The Elder.” Another might be, “The Disciple Whom Jesus Loved.” Both of these nicknames are found in the New Testament, and are believed by many to refer to the same man: John the fisherman, the son of Zebedee.

But to these aliases modern-day readers add a third: “The Apostle of Love.” In part this is because, again, John is thought to be the disciple whom Jesus loved. But it’s also because John writes about love more than any of the other gospel writers.

You probably already know John 3:16 — “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (NIV). Here, although there are four different Greek words that can be translated as “love,” John uses the one overwhelmingly favored by the New Testament writers: the verb agapao. Even if you’ve never studied Greek, you probably already know the related noun: agape. Despite what many of us have been taught, the word in itself is not synonymous with “Christian love” or the grace-filled and sacrificial love of God. But even outside the Bible, it tends to have a moral dimension, so instead of inventing a new word to describe a specifically gospel-centered kind of love, the biblical writers co-opted this one and invested it with new meaning.

For many, John 3:16 sums up the core of the gospel message. You might be surprised, then, to know how seldom agape (the noun) appears in the gospels. It occurs only once in Matthew and once in Luke, and not at all in Mark — but seven times in the gospel of John, with six of these appearing in Jesus’ final speech to his disciples in the Upper Room. The verb fares better: Matthew uses it eight times, Mark five times, and Luke thirteen. But John uses the verb a full 37 times, almost half again as often as the other three gospels put together.

Moreover, agape occurs eighteen times in 1 John, a letter of just over 100 verses. For perspective, that’s more than twenty times as often as he uses the word in his gospel. “Apostle of Love” indeed — it’s one of his favorite subjects, especially in this letter. He has already declared God to be light, and later, in chapter 4, he will also declare that God is not just “loving,” but love itself.

His first mention of agape, however, is in chapter 2. And it’s not about God’s love for us, but our love for God:

But if anyone obeys his word, love for God is truly made complete in them. This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must live as Jesus did. (1 John 2:5-6, NIV)

Think back to the previous verses. Some people in John’s community were claiming to know Jesus but not living in a way that demonstrated any kind of true and meaningful relationship with him. In verse 3, John spoke of “keeping his commands”; now in verse 5, he speaks of “obeying his word.” Let’s put aside for the moment the question of whether John had any particular command in mind (although some of you reading this probably already know where this is going). We’ll get to that shortly. Just note that here in verses 5 and 6, he’s restating his previous point. Who gets to say they really know Jesus? Only those who do what he says.

But note also that he adds something new. Those who obey Jesus not only show that they know him, but that they love God. Again, this isn’t just knowing things about God, it’s knowing God in the deeper and more personal sense of the word.

John’s Greek is a little ambiguous here. Where the New International Version has the words “love for God,” a more literal translation would be “the love of God.” Does that mean God’s love for us, or our love for God?

The NIV opts for the latter, and for good reason. John may again be thinking back to the Upper Room, where Jesus told his disciples, “If you love me, keep my commands” (John 14:15). A few verses later, he says it again in different words: “Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me” (vs. 21). And another two verses later, apparently, the third time’s the charm: “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching… Anyone who does not love me will not obey my teaching” (vss. 23, 24). Moreover, in his own life and conduct, Jesus demonstrated how love and obedience are inseparable. As he tells the disciples, “I love the Father and do exactly what my Father has commanded me” (vs. 31). Jesus, therefore, isn’t expecting anything of his followers that he hasn’t already embodied himself.

In those who obey Jesus, John says, their love for God is “made complete.” You may have a translation that reads “made perfect” or “reached perfection.” For those of us who struggle with perfectionism, a statement like that might give us hives. Love God perfectly? Can I really do that? Can anybody?

The short answer is…no. At least not in the sense that perfectionists worry about, of always having to get it right or never making a mistake. John’s already said it clearly: anyone who claims to be without sin is lying to themselves and everyone around them.

Rather, we need to see the way that religious perfectionism turns the gospel upside down. To the perfectionist, we obey in order to be accepted and loved, the way an anxious child might. But when we know that we have already been loved fully by God, even in all our sin and imperfection, obedience is a grateful and loving response instead.

Put differently: to say that our love for God is “made complete” is to say that our love for God was the goal in the first place. God doesn’t want people who simply know the rules; he wants people to know him.

Jesus loved his Father and therefore willingly obeyed his commands. His obedience was an expression of love, not a way to earn his Father’s love. And John wants us to see that we are invited into the same kind of loving relationship with God — in Jesus.

God isn’t waiting for us to get it right before he loves us. Maybe, when that truth sinks in — really sinks in — we’ll actually want to get it right.