OUR INTREPID HERO, Westley, also known as the Man in Black, lies motionless and silent on the table, all life seemingly drained from his body. But Miracle Max, the former court magician to whom Westley has been brought for healing, confidently declares that Westley is only “mostly dead,” which is at least a more hopeful prognosis than “all dead.” Using a bellows, Max pumps air into Westley’s lungs, then leans down to shout in his ear: “Hey! Hello, in there! Hey, what’s so important? What you got here that’s worth living for?” As he presses the air out of Westley, the words slowly leak out: “Truuuue loooove.”

This classic scene is from the much beloved 1987 film The Princess Bride, which gleefully satirizes fairy tales, romantic comedies, and adventure stories all at the same time. The basic plot is standard storybook fare: the hero must rescue his true love from the clutches of the evil prince, overcoming all the obstacles along the way to a predictably happy ending. But even though the script is clearly a parody of “true love,” the movie nevertheless reinforces our fondness for such tales. As the theme song at the end declares, “My love is like a storybook story, but it’s as real as the feelings I feel.”

AS WE’VE SEEN, in the opening words of 2 John, the apostle emphasizes both truth and love, putting them together as if they were meant to be inseparable. Here again are his words:

The elder, to the lady chosen by God and to her children, whom I love in the truth—and not I only, but also all who know the truth—Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Father’s Son, will be with us in truth and love. (2 John 1-3, NIV)

John loves the Chosen Lady, the church, “in the truth.” But this is not a profession of “true love.” I don’t know that anyone would actually read it that way, but I want to make sure that our implicit cultural associations between love and truth don’t get in the way of understanding John’s meaning. “True,” as in the phrase “true love,” is an adjective while “truth” is a noun pointing to something that can be known. And those who know this truth — which in 1 John means the gospel truth about Jesus to which God testified and the secessionists denied — will love the church and her children.

John isn’t talking about romantic love. Look at his greeting: “Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Father’s Son.” God wants his human creatures to know peace, which in Scripture typically means shalom, the wholeness of everything being as it was created to be in Genesis 1, before the spiritual train wreck of sin in Genesis 3. And how is it possible for sinful humanity to know peace, to know this wholeness, this shalom? John says it famously in his gospel: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son…” (John 3:16). The Father’s love is demonstrated in and through the sacrifice of his Son, going hand in hand with his grace and mercy, his favor and forgiveness. That is the core of the gospel. That is the truth. God’s grace, mercy, and peace, John says, will be with us in truth and love.

BUT WHAT DOES it mean to love “in truth”? “True love” may be a romantic ideal for individuals and their supposed “soulmates” (and fair warning, don’t get me started on the whole soulmate idea). But within the church, brothers and sisters in Christ should love one another in truth, in other words, in a manner befitting the gospel.

Isn’t that one of the messages of 1 John? Remember what he wrote in chapter 3:

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. (1 John 3:16-18, NIV)

Again, Jesus showed us the depth and meaning of God’s love by dying on our behalf, leaving us an example to follow. But John is quick to point out that this doesn’t mean a literal crucifixion, just compassion for the needs of others, expressed in some tangible way. It’s walking the walk, not just talking the talk.

Moreover, let me add this. We sometimes act as if we were the heroes and heroines of our own storybook stories, with someone else playing the role of villain — especially when they make us mad. We paint ourselves as being good (more or less) and the other as bad. We’re right, and they’re wrong. We should be vindicated, and they should be punished, or at least made to realize and repent the error of their ways. And of course, in any given situation, it may be that we truly are the innocent injured party and have done nothing wrong.

Maybe.

But even then, Jesus himself — the One who would be crucified for our sins, not his own — taught that if we want to be like our Father in heaven, we must love our enemies. To love in truth, to love in light of the gospel, requires remembering how we ourselves are recipients of a divine grace and mercy that we don’t deserve. That should be the shared understanding of everyone belonging to a Christian community, the starting point for resolving any differences.

There’s nothing intrinsically evil in hoping that, as your own life story plays out, you’ll find your true love. But the story of the gospel is about how God loves truly, and calls forth a people who will do the same.