What Does It Mean to Love Someone Without Faking It?

By Pastor John Erickson

Have you ever been around somebody you're supposed to love, and smiled so convincingly that nobody could tell what you were thinking?

Meanwhile, inside, you're having an entirely different conversation.

You're annoyed. You're rehearsing all the things you wish you could say. But outside, you're pleasant. You're polite.

And technically, you haven't said anything unkind.

But is that the kind of love Jesus calls us to?

Paul writes something challenging in Romans 12:9: love must be sincere.

Not performative. Not a mask we put on when other Christians are watching. Sincere.

That is a much higher standard than simply behaving ourselves in public.

Start with the Mercy You've Received

Romans 12 begins with Paul urging believers, in view of God's mercy, to offer their bodies as living sacrifices.

Notice where he starts: not with how impressive we should be, but with the mercy God has already shown us.

Everything that follows flows out of that.

When my children were learning to walk, I watched for toys and blankets in their path. At first they held on to the couch. Later I would bend down and hold their hands as they took steps. They still fell, of course. But they kept learning.

That picture helps me think about keeping in step with the Spirit. Growth is more than announcing that we should walk better. It means receiving help, noticing obstacles, getting up again, and learning to move differently. The way we love other people is one place that growth becomes visible.

I think sometimes we want to jump to the behavior checklist. Be kind. Don't gossip. Forgive. Get along.

Those are important. But if the work never goes deeper than outward behavior, we can develop a pretty polished religious mask while our hearts remain unchanged.

Paul wants something more.

In view of God's mercy, let the way you relate to other people be transformed.

Love Without Pretending

When Paul says love should be sincere, the idea is love without hypocrisy.

In the ancient world, a performer could wear a mask to take on a role. That's a useful picture here. We can learn to play the role of a loving person.

We're all very good actors when we need to be.

But acting kindly and actually becoming kind are not identical things.

Now, don't misunderstand me. There are days when we don't feel loving and still need to choose loving actions. Feelings aren't the whole story.

But we shouldn't be satisfied with a life where all the good behavior happens on the outside while bitterness is growing on the inside.

We need to let the Holy Spirit deal with both.

In a conversation with Dr. K about love, he described it in a way I found helpful: acting in another person's best interest, even when it costs us something. That takes love beyond the image I want to project. It asks what will actually do good for the person in front of me.

Paul's picture of a living sacrifice is useful here. The trouble with a living sacrifice is that it can crawl off the altar. We can offer God our words and then take them back the moment we want the last word. Surrender is something we return to, not an achievement we put behind us.

That can mean asking uncomfortable questions. Why am I so frustrated with this person? What am I protecting? Am I withholding grace because I want them to feel what they did to me?

Sincere love invites honesty before God, not pretending we have everything figured out.

Be Devoted to One Another

In Romans 12:10, Paul calls believers to be devoted to one another in love and to honor one another above themselves.

I think we can underestimate how radical that is.

Being devoted doesn't mean we only care for the people we naturally enjoy. If the church is a family, then we don't get to pick only the family members who are easy to love.

Loving people we share a life with requires a lot more than having nice feelings about them.

It requires patience, compromise, forgiveness, and sometimes choosing to listen when you would really like to explain why you're right.

The church is no different.

Paul asks us to honor others above ourselves. And that brings up a question I don't always like: would I rather be honored, or would I rather give honor?

Am I willing to let somebody else have the spotlight? Celebrate their success? Serve in a way no one notices?

Jesus gives us the clearest picture of that kind of self-giving love.

Unity Is Part of Our Witness

In John 17, Jesus prays not only for his first disciples but for those who will believe through their message. That includes the people who follow him afterward.

And what does Jesus pray for? Unity.

Not the kind of unity where nobody ever disagrees. We're human beings. Of course we disagree.

But Jesus prays for a love and oneness that will show the world something about who he is.

That makes our relationships more than a private matter.

When we honor one another, tell the truth without cruelty, forgive, and bear with each other's weaknesses, we give people a glimpse of the gospel.

And when we spend our energy tearing one another down, we say something about our faith, too.

I love the miniseries Band of Brothers partly because you watch bonds form between people who have endured something together. Shared hardship can make people feel like family.

Paul begins with an even deeper bond: the mercy we have received through Jesus. We are people who have been rescued by the same grace. Remembering that should change the way we look at one another.

That's why sincere love matters.

Love Begins Closer to Home Than We Think

It's easy to talk about loving the world in general. It's much harder to love the person who just interrupted your plans.

Or the person who disagrees with you. Or the person who takes credit for something you worked hard on.

Those are the places where love stops being a slogan.

So begin with Romans 12. Read it slowly. Ask God to show you where you're wearing a mask, where you need to offer honor, and where resentment has taken root.

Then take one real step toward sincere love.

A kind word. A listening ear. A quiet act of service. An apology that doesn't include a speech about why the other person is partly to blame.

Because the goal isn't to look like someone who loves well.

The goal is for God to make us into people who do.