One of the funny things about parenting is that you enter into the role with some pretty set ideas about how you will parent.  You have spent a lifetime figuring out what you think is the right and wrong way to do most things, and you imagine that part of your role as a parent is to pass along this hard-earned wisdom.  One of those tidbits of wisdom I had planned to pass along was the importance of expressing remorse in relationships, being able to offer an unqualified “I’m sorry,” whenever needed to maintain an authentically loving relationship.  But once I actually started parenting, I had no idea how challenging that tiny phrase, “I’m sorry,” would be.  I never knew how much of apologies could show so little remorse.  I have witnessed the angry, shouted, “I’m sorry!”s, there have been the resistant, mumbled, “I’m sorry”s, there have been the sarcastic, eye-rolling, “I’m sorry.”s.  And parental requests for our children to “mean it” when they say, “I’m sorry,” are almost comical.  If I’m being honest with myself, how can I or anyone expect anyone else to apologize by force, command, or as a condition for something else?

I think that is what is so strange about today’s lesson from John’s gospel.  Jesus says “If you love me, you will keep my commandments,” and “They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me.”  The commandments Jesus is talking about are those instructions to love God, love self, love neighbor.  In John’s gospel, they are the only commandments Jesus gives.[i]  And who would protest such commandments?  Of course we should all want to love God, love self, and love neighbor.  But there is something strange about the way Jesus presents his command to us – if you love me, you must do these things.  If you love me, you must obey my way.  As lovely as “love” sounds, there is something that harkens to those forced apologies about our text today.  I am pretty sure Jesus is not asking us to love others with a sense of bitterness, resentment, or obligation – and certainly without shouts, mumbling, and eye-rolling.

Some of you may be thinking, “What’s so hard about loving others?  Why would I resist that?”  We do not have to look too far back to see why I think loving others is actually hard work.  If you remember, right at the beginning of the pandemic six years ago, we all pulled together.  People immediately worried about our elders being able to safely procure food and supplies; we pitched in to make sure the hungry were fed with free school lunches and restocked food banks; we sewed face masks (before we had access to medical grade ones) and donated to charities to help protect the vulnerable.  Our collaboration, care, and support of one another was inspiring and invigorating.  But it did not take long for our demons to emerge.  As hard decisions arose about reopening businesses to buttress the economy, making cuts to make ends meet, or laying off employees to help businesses survive, we reverted to our divided, vitriolic ways from before the pandemic, not only disagreeing, but attacking the character, intelligence, and dignity of one another – a habit that has waned very little in the last six years. 

So, when we ask, “What’s so hard about loving others?” my response is, “This.  This is what is hard about loving others.  All of this is hard.”  As one scholar puts it, “It is NOT sufficient (or even meaningful) to profess love for Jesus while we hold ourselves apart from our fellow human beings.  To love Jesus is to love others.  All others.  The lover, the friend, the neighbor, the companion.  But also the alien, the stranger, the misfit, and the enemy.  The ones with whom we agree, and the ones with whom we emphatically disagree.  The ones we naturally like, and the ones we don’t.”[ii]  Another scholar pushes us even further, saying, “Authentic love is not passive; [authentic love] is active and demonstrative.”[iii]  Our love of Jesus is only as authentic as our active, demonstrative love of all others.

So, how can we possibly love that way?  The good news is Jesus says we will have help.  Just as Jesus has been an advocate for his disciples – “guiding, teaching, reminding, abiding, witnessing, interceding, comforting,” so they will have the Holy Spirit.  “What they have known in Jesus, and fear losing in Jesus’ impending absence, they will always know in the promise of the [Holy Spirit].”[iv]  What Jesus promises in John’s gospel today is big. 

Now, I know some of us get a little uncomfortable talking about the Holy Spirit – either the Spirit’s presence just seems too amorphous to be of any value, or the Spirit seems to do weird, dramatic things that scare us more than comfort us.  But Jesus is not simply saying the Holy Spirit will be ambiguously hanging around when Jesus is gone.  The Holy Spirit will be, and is, accompanying us.  As scholar Karoline Lewis says, “Accompaniment is not simply having someone beside you.  Accompaniment is not a mere ministry of presence.  Accompaniment means active and assertive abiding—an abiding that enters into places of fear and discomfort, uncertainty, and troubled hearts, and speaks the truth freely.”[v]

This is our good news today.  On those days when loving seems hard, when obeying Jesus’ command to love feels impossible, the Holy Spirit is and will be here to accompany us, to walk with us in fear, discomfort, uncertainty, trouble, and guide us into lives of love.  The Spirit is with us to enable us to be agents of love even when we doubt we can.  That promise today makes the invitation to love as Christ has loved us not only doable, but desirable.  That promise today helps us loosen our grip on resentment, anger, and fear, and open our hands to love and collaboration.  That promise today makes obedience to love feel like a gift.  Thanks be to God.

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[i] Debie Thomas, “Love and Obedience,” May 10, 2020, https://journeywithjesus.net/essays/2640-love-and-obedience, as found on May 8, 2026.

[ii] Thomas.

[iii] Yung Suk Kim, “Commentary on John 14:15-21,” May 10, 2026, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/sixth-sunday-of-easter/commentary-on-john-1415-21-7 on May 8, 2026.

[iv] Karoline Lewis, “A Time for Accompaniment,” May 10, 2020, http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5433, as found on May 8, 2026.

[v] Lewis.