"That’s love: arms stretched wide, heart pierced, blood poured out" Trinity 18 2025

19. October 2025
Trinity 18
Matthew 22:34-46

“ ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22:34–46)

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. One of them, a lawyer, stood up to test Him: “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?”

They don’t ask because they want to learn. They ask because they want to trap Him. That’s what religion does when it stops listening to God and starts arguing with Him. That’s what happens when faith turns into performance.

The Pharisees were the best of the best — good, respectable, devout. They tithed on their herbs. They prayed in the streets. They studied the Scriptures until their eyes burned. They built fences around the Law so they wouldn’t break it. They were the people you’d want in your congregation — faithful, moral, dependable. And yet, when the Son of God stood before them, they didn’t recognize Him.

So the lawyer asks, “Teacher, which commandment is the greatest?” He expects a debate. He expects Jesus to choose a side. He expects to win.

But Jesus doesn’t play the game. He goes straight to the heart: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” “This,” He says, “is the first and great commandment.” And then — before anyone can nod along — He adds: “And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”

Everything God ever said — all the commandments, all the sacrifices, all the promises — hangs on love. Love for God. Love for your neighbor. Not your version of love. Not the sentimental kind. The love that gives. The love that dies. The love that forgives before it’s asked.

But that’s where the Pharisees stumble. They love the law, but not the Lord. They love religion, but not repentance. They love the idea of loving God — but they don’t love the people God actually gives them to love.

And we’re not much different. We say we love God — but we treat our neighbor like a problem to be managed. We say we believe in grace — but we keep score. We say we’re Christians — but we’d rather be right than reconciled. We’re quick to judge and slow to forgive. We know the commandments, but we don’t know love.

Because love isn’t natural. Sin makes us turn inward — makes us think love is a feeling or a reward. But Jesus says love is a commandment. And that means it isn’t about how you feel — it’s about who He is.

God is love. And when you love your neighbor, you’re not just being nice — you’re reflecting Him. When you forgive, you’re mirroring the cross. When you show mercy, you’re revealing the heart of Christ Himself.

That’s why Jesus puts the two commandments together. You can’t separate them. You can’t say, “I love God,” and despise your neighbor. You can’t worship in the sanctuary and gossip in the parking lot. You can’t kneel at the altar and hate the person standing next to you. Because the love of God always takes flesh — always reaches outward — always looks like the cross.

The Pharisees don’t want that. They want a religion they can control, a righteousness they can measure, a God who plays by their rules. But love isn’t like that. Love breaks your rules. Love takes your control and nails it to a tree. Love dies — for you, and for the very people you wish it wouldn’t.

And that’s where Jesus turns the tables. He asks them a question: “What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is He?” They answer quickly, confidently, “The son of David.” And Jesus says, “Then how is it that David, in the Spirit, calls Him Lord, saying, ‘The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand until I put your enemies under your feet’? If David calls Him Lord, how is He his son?”

And they can’t answer Him. Because the answer destroys their whole system. If the Christ is both David’s son and David’s Lord, then the Christ isn’t just a better Pharisee. He’s not just another teacher or prophet. He’s God in the flesh.

That’s what silences them. The one they’re testing is the one who gave the Law. The one they’re trying to trap is the one who came to fulfill it. And that’s the gospel hidden inside the question: the Lawgiver Himself has come to love the loveless. The Lord Himself has come to be your neighbor.

You see, that’s what the incarnation means — God doesn’t just tell you to love; He becomes love for you. He doesn’t just preach mercy; He bleeds it. He doesn’t just hang commandments on you; He hangs on the cross for you.

And there — nailed between heaven and earth — the two commandments meet. Love for God. Love for neighbor. The cross is both. Jesus loves the Father perfectly by submitting to His will. And He loves you perfectly by taking your place. On that wood, the Law and the Prophets hang — literally — on Him.

So if you want to know what love looks like, don’t look in the mirror. Look at the crucifix. That’s love: arms stretched wide, heart pierced, blood poured out. That’s the fulfillment of the Law. That’s your salvation.

Now you belong to that love. You live from that love. You give what you’ve received — not perfectly, but faithfully. Because the one who loves you doesn’t keep score. He doesn’t measure your worth. He gives Himself to you over and over — in preaching, in baptism, in the Supper — until His love fills every empty space in your heart.

That’s how you learn to love your neighbor — not by trying harder, but by being filled with Christ. You can’t give what you don’t have. You can’t love from emptiness. But Christ gives you Himself — His body, His blood, His forgiveness, His Spirit — so that His love becomes yours.

And then, love stops being an obligation and starts being a miracle. You forgive because you’ve been forgiven. You show mercy because mercy has found you. You serve because the Son of Man first served you. You love your neighbor because your Lord has loved you first — even when you were His enemy. This is Jesus’ promise, worked by His Word and Spirit.

So let the Pharisee in you die. Let your self-justification be buried with Christ. Let your pride be crucified with Him. And rise — new, forgiven, free — to love as you’ve been loved.

For if our love covers a multitude of sins, His love covers them all. If our love is weak and faltering, His love is perfect and eternal. If our hearts condemn us, God is greater than our hearts.

And now, just as in the beginning, the Lord says, “Come, let us reason together. Though your sins are as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.” Because the Son of David, who is David’s Lord, has done it. He has kept the Law. He has fulfilled the commandment. He has loved you to the end.

Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world — and the Pharisee with it.

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

Rev. Christopher R. Gillespie
St. John Ev. Lutheran Church & School - Sherman Center
Random Lake, Wisconsin