Love and Truth Are Not Opposites
2 John 1:8-11
"Watch yourselves, that you do not lose what we have accomplished, but that you may receive a full reward. Anyone who goes too far and does not remain in the teaching of Christ, does not have God; the one who remains in the teaching has both the Father and the Son. If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him into your house, and do not give him a greeting; for the one who gives him a greeting participates in his evil deeds."
There is this idea that the biblical principle (command really) that the followers of Jesus Christ must love one another, and this love means tolerate one another. Don't be angry. Don't be upset or at odds. Don't argue and debate, or participate in anyone form of disagreement. Schism is sinful and this behavior among the people of God is shameful.
John's second letter refines this idea. His previous letter never defined love in the way I describe before.
John himself is the apostle who writes both ideas:
"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God" (1 John 4:7)
and
"If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him" (2 John 10).
That is boundary-setting for the sake of the truth. John’s response is uncompromising.
So, is that a contradiction? Is John being unkind, unchristian?
He's not only saying that the children of God should not welcome these untruths among their congregations; he's saying they shouldn't even bless that false teacher as they send them away.
No, it is not a contradiction. And no, John is not being unkind or unchristian.
John is being consistent. In 1 John, love is never defined as unlimited tolerance or the refusal to draw lines. Love is defined in relation to truth and obedience.
"By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and observe His commandments" (1 John 5:2).
So what is this definition of Love?
How is faithfulness Love?
Love, according to John, is not a feeling of goodwill or the refusal to disagree. It is defined by its origin, its object, and its evidence. It's not just about having the knowledge of Jesus Christ, it's following Him as your Lord that brings Salvation. It isn't speaking creeds or a sinners prayer, it's doing the Word of God. Love, in John's letters, is never reduced to correct information about Jesus or a one-time verbal confession. It is the lived reality of abiding in Him and walking in the truth He revealed. Knowledge without obedience is incomplete; confession without discipleship is empty. It's an empty meaningless love. Shallow and incomplete. It'll dry up in the drought because it has no depth.
Love that stops at correct information, a verbal confession, or a general attitude of niceness, has no root. It cannot endure. When the heat comes on, when the pressure rises, and when false teaching presses in, or when obedience becomes too costly, it withers.
John puts it plainly:
"If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him" (1 John 2:15).
Love that is not joined to abiding and obedience is not the love that comes from God. It's phony. It looks similar in the easy times but has no life in it. But it's not just a weak link in the church, it becomes a festering wound that'll putrefy the whole thing.
A love that refuses to remain in the teaching, or that welcomes those who deny it, does not simply stay weak and private. It becomes contagious. It softens the church’s discernment. And I t trains people to treat the person of Jesus Christ as negotiable. And we see this exact situation happening in every denomination of the Christian world. When a church (or a movement) decides that the highest expression of love is indifferentism around the person and work of Christ, the result is predictable. Discernment erodes. The incarnation, the atonement, the exclusive lordship of Jesus, and the authority of His Word, all become negotiable in the name of unity, and inclusion.
The pressure is rarely open denial at first. It is the steady training of people to treat the historic confession of Christ as secondary to relational harmony, cultural relevance, or institutional survival. The object of faith becomes the needs of the organization. Once that training takes hold, the boundary John drew in 2 John is quietly erased. And once the boundary is gone, the infection spreads.
The answer John gives is not complicated, but it is costly.
Remain in the teaching.
Abide in it.
Walk in the truth.
And here's where the rubber meets the road; refuse to lend legitimacy to those who will not.
Is that schism?
No, it's faithfulness.
And in John’s theology, faithfulness is love; love for God, love for the brothers and sisters, and love that will not let the flock be quietly led away from the only Savior.
That is the decisive point.
Once the needs of the organization; its harmony, its relevance, its survival, quietly take the place of the teaching of Christ as the highest loyalty, the boundary John drew is already gone. The language of love remains, but the substance has changed. What is now protected is no longer the flock’s hold on the Savior; it is the institution’s hold on itself.
Those who have already relocated the center of their Love for God will call this schism, unkind, unchristian and uncharitable. The charge is predictable because the goalpost has been moved. Once relational peace or organizational survival becomes the highest good, any boundary that threatens it must be treated as the real sin.
John is not surprised by this. He has already told us that the love of the Father and the love of the world cannot occupy the same center (1 John 2:15).
And so there we have it, the test is plain to see, does this "love" remain in the teaching of Christ, or has it moved the center elsewhere? Can it hold up to the scrutiny of the teachings?
If it cannot, it is something else wearing the same name. And it must go. There is no third option John leaves open. Either the center remains the teaching of Christ, or the center has been moved. What has been moved cannot be kept.
The moment truth is treated as optional for the sake of "love," the two have already been set against each other. Real love does not stand opposite truth.
It requires it.
It abides in it.
It covenants with it.
And it refuses to bless that which denies it.
Love and truth are not opposites because, in John’s theology, they cannot be separated without destroying both.
Ironically, one of the best metaphors for this is the Christmas tree. It's cut, brought inside, decorated, and held up as a symbol of everlasting life. It stands green and bright for a season. People gather around it. Songs are sung. The language of life and hope fills the room. And the tree itself has no idea it is already dead. Its roots are gone. Once the root is gone, the end is only a matter of time.
The appearance of life is only temporary. In a few weeks the needles will brown and fall, and what was treated as a sign of permanence will be hauled out and discarded.
The symbol of the highest form of love is already cut off from its source. It still uses the language of love. It still stands in the center of the room. It is still treated as the sign of life and unity. But it's dead. It's phony counterfeit love. It does not know it is already dead. And neither do many of those who keep decorating it and calling it love.
It's a sad and sobering way to end a devotion, but by definition of the word, it is devotion that is the point.
True devotion does not exist to leave us comfortable. It exists to keep us rooted in the One who is life. Devotion is the costly, clear-eyed loyalty that stays with Christ even when the alternative is called uncharitable.
So, a devotion that will not tell the truth about false love is not devotion at all.
Amen.