Agape
Before Christianity, agape was an obscure Greek word for love, rarely used and unremarkable compared to the passionate eros or the affectionate philia. New Testament writers deliberately elevated this term, filling it with revolutionary content.
Before Christianity, agape was an obscure Greek word for love, rarely used and unremarkable compared to the passionate eros or the affectionate philia. New Testament writers deliberately elevated this term, filling it with revolutionary content. When Jesus commands "love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you" (Matthew 5:44), he uses agape—a love that chooses rather than merely feels, that acts rather than reacts. This is love as obedience, which is why it can be commanded.
Paul's "love chapter" in 1 Corinthians 13 is all agape in Greek, making it behavioral rather than sentimental. "Agape is patient, agape is kind" (1 Corinthians 13:4) becomes a diagnostic: regardless of what you feel, does your conduct exhibit patience and kindness? You can agape your difficult coworker by choosing generosity over retaliation, whether warm feelings exist or not. Faith works through agape (Galatians 5:6), not through emotional states we can't control.
The supreme model is Christ: "God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). This is agape's scandal—it's directed toward the undeserving, even enemies. It doesn't wait for the object to become lovable; it acts first. When John declares "God is agape" (1 John 4:8), he means God's essential nature is self-giving action toward those who cannot earn it.
This love demands tangibility. "Let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth" (1 John 3:18). Early Christians practiced agape feasts where rich and poor ate as equals—so disruptive that Paul corrected abuses where wealthy members hoarded food (1 Corinthians 11:20-22). The love command isn't a mystical abstraction but a concrete redistribution.
Here's what neuroscience reveals: practicing compassion toward adversaries decreases amygdala activation and increases prefrontal cortex engagement—literally rewiring threat responses. This is why agape traditions emphasize concrete actions (feeding enemies, praying for persecutors) rather than manufacturing feelings. Jesus knew something profound: you can't command emotions, but you can command behaviors that reshape the brain. Act in love, and the feelings eventually follow.