Imagine, for a moment, a world shaped by love.
I wasn’t part of the gathering — hadn’t even planned to stop. I was sitting in my car in the parking lot when a voice carried through the open doors. Someone was sharing a message — calm, steady, without any need to impress. And somehow, before I realized it, I was listening.
He was talking about Jesus — about how His followers are called to trust Him and obey Him, to really believe He is the Son of God. He said their whole purpose on earth is to be Light on a Hill and Salt in the World. Not loud, not forceful — but present, steady, shaping things quietly just by being faithful. That part stuck with me.
Then he started talking about love. Not the soft, vague kind people like to talk about, but the kind described in 1 Corinthians 13. He didn’t pretend anyone could actually live it perfectly. He said straight out that no one can — because only Christ is the Truth itself. Still, he said, Christians commit to that standard anyway. Not because they think they’ve arrived, but because they believe surrender and change are part of the call.
From where I sat, it sounded like he was saying love isn’t just something Christians admire — it’s something they’re supposed to live. A way of life, not a slogan. And the way he described it, it wasn’t about overpowering evil or fighting back harder. It was about endurance. Humility. Heavenly-minded. Doing good even when it costs something.
Then he asked, almost quietly, “So what does Christlike love actually look like?”
And he answered it.
He said: Love is patient. It takes hits and keeps going. It’s kind, gentle, merciful. It doesn’t envy people or resent their success. It doesn’t brag or puff itself up. It doesn’t need attention. It isn’t rude or dismissive, but goes out of its way to honor others. It doesn’t always insist on getting its own way — it seeks peace and considers the good of others.
He said love isn’t explosive. Small slights don’t send it into rage. It doesn’t keep score or wait for a chance to get even. It hates what’s evil and holds tightly to what’s good. It’s willing to endure suffering if that’s what faithfulness requires.
He talked about trust — not blind trust, but choosing not to assume the worst about people. About hope — not wishful thinking, but wanting others to grow and flourish. About perseverance — love that doesn’t quit. Love that doesn’t burn out. Love that lasts.
By then, I’d turned the engine off.
He closed by saying, “This kind of love doesn’t get you power. It won’t help you rule the world or climb political or social ladders. There’s nothing profitable about it in earthly terms”. But, he said, it makes room for the Kingdom of Heaven. And Christians, he said, believe they’re called to carry that weight — to walk the narrow road, to follow Christ, and to set their hopes somewhere higher than earthly dominance.
He said, “If you change the meaning of that love, you change the faith itself. And if Scripture doesn’t mean what it plainly says, then it can’t be trusted at all. But Christians believe it is true — and because of that, they dare to live under its claim. They believe they carry the mark of Christ in their lives, through sacrifice and endurance and self-giving love.”
If you have ever stood on a mountaintop and caught a glimpse of the greater hope— set against the surrounding landscape of despair where our present world’s socio-political and economic power, wealth, and prestige all lead to dead ends — you can no longer afford to think naïvely.
Love: fossilized, yet discoverable.
Eternal Agora 