When we think about love, we often imagine safety, warmth, and reciprocation. We guard our hearts carefully, building walls to protect ourselves from potential hurt. We categorize people—those worth loving and those who aren't. But what if the most transformative kind of love is the kind that seems completely irresponsible?
Beyond Our Comfort Zones
In Matthew 5:43-48, we encounter one of Jesus' most challenging teachings: "Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." This isn't a suggestion or a nice ideal for the spiritually advanced. It's a command that flips our natural instincts upside down.
The religious leaders of Jesus' day had created a comfortable interpretation of the law. "Love your neighbor" had morphed into "love your neighbor and hate your enemy." They developed categories and labels, ranking people by importance and worthiness. Neighbors were fellow Israelites—everyone else didn't count.
Sound familiar?
We do the same thing today. We create our own categories: "those people" who need to work harder, "those people" who don't share our beliefs, "those people" who are uneducated or different or difficult. We use these labels to justify treating others with less dignity, less compassion, less humanity.
The Problem with Categories
Here's the uncomfortable truth: when we categorize people, we're essentially saying some humans are more human than others. We're claiming to be made in God's image while denying that same image in people who look, think, or act differently than us.
Throughout history, Christians have tragically misused Scripture to justify this kind of thinking—supporting slavery, oppression, snobbery, and staying silent in the face of injustice. Verses taken out of context have been weaponized to maintain power structures and avoid the messy work of actually loving people.
But God doesn't see our categories. He "causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous" (Matthew 5:45). Our labels are invisible to Him.
What Does "Perfect" Really Mean?
Jesus concludes this teaching with what seems like an impossible command: "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48).
Perfect? Really? That seems like setting us up for failure.
But the Greek word Jesus uses—teleos—doesn't mean flawless in the way we think of perfection today. It means whole, complete, mature, fully formed, undivided in purpose. It's about the process of becoming, not about achieving an impossible standard.
There's a beautiful connection between this word and the Hebrew word tov from Genesis—the word God used to describe His creation as "good." Tov describes creation as whole, ordered, and aligned with God. Teleos describes the wholeness God wants to restore in us.
The arc looks like this: God creates good (tov). Humans fracture that goodness through sin. Jesus enters to bring redemption. And teleos is the process of restoration back to tov—the living out of restored goodness.
The Cross: Perfection Redefined
When Jesus hung on the cross, bleeding and barely recognizable, His final words were "It is finished"—teleos. He was declaring perfection in what looked like absolute brokenness.
This is where our understanding of perfection collides with God's. We think perfection looks like success, comfort, and having it all together. God says perfection looks like the cross—sacrificial, self-giving love (agape) even for those who don't deserve it.
Paul puts it perfectly: "For if while we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life" (Romans 5:10).
When Jesus tells us to love our enemies, He's not asking us to do something He hasn't already done. We were His enemies. And He loved us anyway.
Irresponsible Love in Action
This is irresponsible love—the kind that risks everything without guarantee of return. It's the father who sent his only son to die for people who might reject him. It's better to risk rejection than never experience acceptance. It's better to show irresponsible love than no love at all.
This kind of love is impossible on our own. We can't manufacture it through willpower or good intentions. But with God, we're equipped with His agape love—the love that doesn't make sense, the love that transforms hearts.
Loving your enemy might start as small as a kind gesture or word to someone who doesn't deserve it. It means praying for those who hurt you (try it—it's remarkably difficult). It means refusing to dehumanize people, even when they've done terrible things.
Seeing with New Eyes
The pathway forward requires honest self-reflection. What categories have we created? How have we prioritized people based on our own standards of worthiness? These aren't easy questions, but grace covers us as we examine our hearts.
One transformative prayer can change everything: "God, help me to see people the way You see them."
When we pray this earnestly, our perspective shifts. We begin to see beyond labels, beyond flaws, beyond what the world says about someone. We see image-bearers—children of God, each with inherent dignity and worth.
This doesn't mean justifying harmful actions or agreeing with everyone. It means our heart posture changes. We let God handle justice and consequences while we focus on reflecting His goodness.
The Invitation
This process toward teleos—toward wholeness and the restoration of God's original goodness—is available now. We don't have to wait. The kingdom of God breaks into the present when we choose irresponsible love.
It's risky. It's vulnerable. It's countercultural.
But it's the only path back to our true identity as children of a loving Father whose perfection looks nothing like the world's standards and everything like sacrificial love.
The question isn't whether we can do it—we can't, not alone. The question is whether we'll let God transform our hearts so we can love the way He loves: irresponsibly, recklessly, completely.