August 30, 2026 · love-of-christ

A Love That Came First

Romans 5:8

Most of the love we know comes with some kind of condition.

People love us because we're good friends.

Because we respond.

Because we show up.

Because we treat others well.

Because we meet expectations.

And even if we don't always say it out loud, we often learn to relate to people this way:

"If I do this well, they'll love me."

"If I don't mess up, I won't disappoint anyone."

"If I give enough, I'll get affection back too."

From a young age, in one way or another, we learn to chase approval.

We want to hear:

"I'm proud of you."

"You did well."

"I need you."

"You matter to me."

And when we fail, the fear of losing that love often shows up.

That's why the love of Christ can be so hard to grasp.

Because it completely breaks that logic.

Romans 5:8 says:

"But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."

It doesn't say Christ died for us once we finally started behaving.

It doesn't say He waited until we got our lives together.

It says:

"While we were yet sinners."

In other words, while we were still far off.

While we were still failing.

While we still didn't understand.

While we still had nothing worthy to offer Him in return.

Christ loved us first.

Christ Didn't Wait Until We Were Ready

Some people spend a large part of their lives trying to feel good enough to come near God.

They think:

"First I have to fix this."

"First I have to give that up."

"First I have to get my life in order."

"Then I'll come back to God."

But the gospel works exactly backwards.

We don't change so that Christ will love us.

His love is what starts changing us.

Romans 5:8 doesn't present God's love as a reward.

It presents it as an initiative.

God took the first step.

We didn't reach Him.

He came to us.

That means we don't have to pretend in front of God.

We don't have to show up saying:

"Lord, look at everything I did right this week."

We can come knowing He already knows what we did right.

And He also knows what we did wrong.

He knows the thoughts no one else knows about.

He knows the times we promised to change and fell right back into it.

He knows the doubts.

The struggles.

The mistakes.

And even so, the cross keeps saying:

"I loved you first."

That doesn't mean God ignores our sin.

The cross was necessary precisely because of sin.

But it means our failure never surprised God.

Christ didn't discover our weaknesses after loving us.

He already knew them when He chose to give Himself for us.

And that changes how we approach Him.

We no longer come trying to buy His love.

We come to receive something we could never buy.

A Love You Can Know, Not Just Repeat

Ephesians 3:17-19 says:

"...that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge..."

There's something curious in those words.

Paul says:

"to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge."

It sounds like a contradiction.

How do we know something that surpasses our knowledge?

Because Paul isn't only talking about information.

We can know a great deal about God and still feel far from Him.

We can have heard since childhood:

"Jesus loves you."

We can have sung songs about His love.

We can know John 3:16 by heart.

We can explain perfectly well what grace means.

And still, at certain moments in life, ask ourselves:

"But does He really love me?"

It's one thing to know that God loves the world.

It's another to rest in the reality that God loves me.

With my flaws.

With my history.

With my questions.

With the parts of my life that are still under construction.

Maybe that's why Paul prays that the church would be able to grasp the width, and length, and depth, and height of that love.

Because we never finish exploring it.

Just when we think we've hit the limit, we find it goes deeper still.

When we believe our failure was too big, we find grace.

When we think we've wandered too far, we find He's still calling.

When we feel we don't deserve to come back, we find open arms.

The love of Christ isn't simply a doctrine to memorize.

It's a reality we can live inside of.

Sometimes We Know Christ's Love Precisely When We Need It Most

There are seasons when it's easy to believe God loves us.

When everything is going well.

When prayers get answered quickly.

When we're healthy.

When we sense His presence.

When things seem to make sense.

But there are also seasons when God's love feels harder to perceive.

When we wait and the answer doesn't come.

When we go through a loss.

When we fail again.

When we feel guilt.

When we pray and the heavens seem to stay silent.

And it's precisely there that we need to remember Christ's love doesn't depend on our circumstances.

The cross happened before any of the problems we're facing today.

That means we don't have to measure God's love only by how our week turned out.

If everything went well, God loves us.

If everything went wrong, God loves us.

If we got the answer we wanted, God loves us.

If we're still waiting, God loves us.

If we were strong, God loves us.

And if this week we barely managed to stay standing, His love hasn't changed.

His love doesn't rise and fall with our performance.

We don't have to wake up every morning trying to figure out whether God will be pleased with us today.

The cross already answered the question of how much He was willing to give out of love.

A Love That Is Proven, Not Just Declared

Galatians 2:20 says:

"...and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me."

Paul doesn't simply say:

"Christ said He loved me."

He says:

"He loved me, and gave himself for me."

The love of Christ had action.

It had sacrifice.

It had pain.

It had a cross.

That matters because anyone can say:

"I love you."

But words carry weight when there's action behind them.

Christ didn't stop at a declaration from heaven.

He came.

He lived among us.

He served.

He healed.

He forgave.

He touched the outcast.

He drew near to the one everyone else avoided.

And finally He gave Himself up.

1 John 4:9-10 puts it this way:

"In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us..."

The same truth appears again:

He began it.

Before our response came His love.

Before our obedience came His grace.

Before our seeking came His call.

What Changes If I Really Believe Christ Loves Me Like This?

This is where this message stops being merely information.

Because we can end up saying:

"That's beautiful. God loves me."

And keep living exactly the same way.

But the love of Christ asks for a response.

Not a response to earn it.

A response because we've already received it.

If I really believe Christ loves me, then I don't have to live desperately chasing everyone's approval.

Not everyone has to understand me.

Not everyone has to applaud me.

I don't need to change who I am just so someone will decide to accept me.

If I really believe Christ loves me, I can stop hiding my mistakes from Him.

I can repent.

I can come back.

I can say:

"Lord, I failed."

without thinking that confession will make Him stop loving me.

If I really believe Christ loves me, I can also start loving differently.

Because love received becomes love shared.

I can be patient with someone who doesn't deserve it.

I can forgive.

I can serve without expecting recognition.

I can extend grace because I myself live off of grace.

The love of Christ doesn't only comfort us.

It also transforms us.

Maybe Today You Need to Stop Trying to Earn It

Maybe you've spent a long time trying to prove something to God.

Trying to be good enough.

Strong enough.

Spiritual enough.

Maybe every mistake makes you think God must be disappointed in you.

Maybe you know the message of the gospel perfectly well, but deep down you still live as if you had to pay for God's love.

Today, remember Romans 5:8.

"While we were yet sinners..."

That's where it started.

Not when you became perfect.

Not when you understood everything.

Not when you left all your mistakes behind.

He loved you first.

Maybe this week, instead of starting each day thinking:

"What do I have to do for God to love me?"

we can start with a different question:

"How would I live today if I really believed I'm already loved by Christ?"

Maybe we'd have less fear.

Less need for approval.

More freedom to admit our mistakes.

More patience with others.

More willingness to forgive.

And more gratitude.

Because when we understand that love came first, obedience stops being an attempt to buy God's favor.

It becomes a grateful response to the One who already loved us.