The question is asked by an attorney—an expert in
religious law. It comes as part of a larger, extended
back-and-forth between Jesus and a group of leaders
during which they also ask him about death and
taxes. This is a tough crowd. The final question, like
the two that come before it, is offered as a test. Not a
test to measure knowledge, but to set up debate.
Teacher, which commandment in the law is the
greatest? Name one.
Regardless of interlocutor intent, I am grateful for
the question. I’m especially glad that this lawyer
asked it in such a direct way—that’s a talent of the
profession, I’ve found. We have a few of them in
this congregation. But thanks to this attorney, we
don’t have to wonder what Jesus thought was most
important for people of faith. He tells us what faith
asks of us. Love God. Love your neighbor. There
is nothing more important than this. Everything is
subordinate to love.
You may know that Jesus is not writing a new script
here. He is drawing on his own religious tradition,
the faith of his childhood. The words come from
his Bible, from Leviticus and Deuteronomy. Still, as
is often the case in exchanges between Jesus and
attorneys, there is a twist in the text. Our Lord makes
an interesting and utterly unexpected revision to the
passage. The verse Jesus quotes first, Deuteronomy
6:5, reads, “You shall love the Lord your God with all
your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might
(or strength).”
Did you catch the change? Jesus commands his
followers to love God with all their minds. The
Greek word here is dianoia. It can be translated
intelligence, or understanding, or imagination.
Context matters. Here, Jesus is in a conversation
with educated, smart, well-versed religious leaders,
and he intentionally shifts the perspective. Love
God with all your mind. Your brain. Your intellect.
Your understanding.
How can we do that? What does “loving God
with our minds” look like in practice? These are
important questions for us, not just because Jesus
makes loving God with our minds a part of the
greatest commandment, but also because faith
and knowledge, heart and mind, have a complex
and complicated relationship. Hear again: Context
matters. Ours.
Russell Moore is a Baptist pastor and the editor
of Christianity Today, and he has just written an
important book which he has framed as an altar
call to American Christians. Based on his own
experience and the witness of many who have grown
disillusioned by expressions of Christian witness that
put tribalism over basic truth and political power over
inner integrity, Moore raises a call for repentance and
renewal. Such a movement might begin by loving
God with our minds. The uncomfortable reality is that
many so-called Christian leaders have expected (or
even demanded) lockstep uniformity even as they
twist the message of the Gospel to justify immoral
means that increase their own power and influence.
And the implicit expectation is that worshipers
will simply and mindlessly fall in line. That’s not a
problem here.
But let me be clear. When divergent viewpoints
are squashed and preachers make only emotional
appeals to anger and fear, we have left the truth
of faith for the worship of idols. Here’s how Moore
describes it, writing, “The gospel…does not go
forward by propaganda or demagoguery or by cynical
appeals to popular conspiracy theories or folk religion.
The gospel goes forth…by the ‘open statement of the
truth’ (That’s 2 Cor. 4:2).” I add my amen.
There is now a justifiable skepticism among those
outside the church who perceive religion as hostile
to intellectual pursuits or healthy debate. I would
suggest that this hostility is not simply ineffective
evangelism, though it is certainly that. More
importantly, such sanctimonious contempt for a
thinking faith betrays the message of Jesus. I believe
that when Jesus answered this direct and provocative
question from a local attorney with an equally direct
and provocative response, he really meant what he
said, including the charge to love God with our minds.
As the proud son of a Presbyterian pastor, I was
literally born into this Reformed theological tradition.
And even at a young age, I was grateful to belong
to a community that encouraged deep thinking and
wrestling as an essential component of faith formation.
This was no accident. There is, at the core of our
theology, an appreciation for the life of the mind and a
sense of its importance to the journey of discipleship.
That we must grow in understanding as we grow in
faith. That our minds as well as our hearts must be
stretched as we continue the journey of discipleship.
I’m always grateful when someone who worships here
says something like, “I’m glad that we don’t have to
leave our brains in the parking lot when we come to
worship at Second.” Indeed, worshiping God requires
our minds as well as our hearts and our souls.
Faith requires intentional effort and openness to
growth, even to changing our perspective. In my
experience, this happens best in community. The
classes, small groups, Bible studies, retreats, and
enrichment programs that are offered here at Second
are one testament to our conviction that God calls
us to use the brains that God gave us. A century ago,
C.S. Lewis insisted: “God is no fonder of intellectual
slackers than of any other kind of slackers. If you are
thinking of becoming a Christian, I warn you, you are
embarking on something that is going to take the
whole of you, brains and all.”i
Whenever we choose to engage our minds, we will
find that loving God expands our understanding
and deepens our capacity for discernment. Context
matters, and this is particularly important right
now. We are not suffering from a lack of access
to information. Quite the contrary. Incalculable
inventories of human knowledge literally exist
at our fingertips in ways that would have been
inconceivable even a few short years ago. And yet,
drowning in a sea of information, wisdom still eludes
us. The truth is not in us. We accept and perpetuate
falsehoods. And perhaps most of all, access to
knowledge has not made us more compassionate,
more just, more generous, or gracious.
What we lack is not information but discernment. Not
knowledge but wisdom. Please note that Jesus did not
offer as the greatest commandment the instruction to
grasp God with all our minds, to understand God with
all our minds, to figure God out or explain God. We are
commanded to employ our intellect in the cause of
love. When we grow in understanding, we grow in our
love for God.
There is a wonderful moment in Paul’s letter to the
Romans that illustrates this point. The Apostle has
been wresting for several chapters with a thorny
and complicated theological issue. His brilliant mind
has been twisted into pretzels trying to understand
and make logical, rational sense of God’s plan for
salvation. He’s tried several different approaches,
several ways into the problem, and none seem to
satisfy him. And so, finally, he throws up his hands.
Not in exasperation, but in praise.
Here is what he writes: “O the depth of the wisdom
and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his
judgements and how inscrutable his ways!” Paul
makes the shift from debate to doxology—words of
prayer and praise.
I experienced something similar in a powerful way
back in March. I had the privilege of teaching a class
for a group of high school seniors at Brebeuf, the
Jesuit Prep School just a couple of miles from here.
The course was titled Faith and Politics. I was given
forty-five minutes—the last class of the day. I quickly
learned there was no need to be concerned about
filling those forty-five minutes. I was two slides into
my carefully prepared presentation when a student
raised her hand. She asked an excellent question,
and from that point forward, discussion and debate
were the modes of engagement in the classroom.
Students pressed each other, and me, with different
viewpoints and insights from a variety of angles. We
were in deep intellectual waters, and I was enjoying
every single moment of it. Engaged minds. Brilliant
brains. Tough questions. No easy answers. In fact, I
was enjoying it so much that I completely lost track
of time. And so, I was surprised when the intercom
buzzed, but the students were not. They closed
their laptops and set their pens on notebooks. Their
heads bowed as a student’s voice came through the
speaker. In God’s presence, review the events of your
day. Recall the moments during the day for which you
are grateful. Remind yourself that God is in all of these
moments. Now consider the challenges you may have
faced today. Remember that God is present when we
face our difficulties and gives us courage, peace, and
wisdom. Now, reflect on where you may have fallen
short today. Recall that God helps us to understand
our failings and forgives us. Finally, let us give thanks
to God for the gift of this day and look forward to the
graces God has for us tomorrow.
With that, the bell rang, and the students filed out of
the classroom. It’s the Daily Examen, a practice first
instituted by St. Ignatius in the 15th Century, calling
for two minutes of quiet reflection at the close of day. I
watched in absolute wonder as these students moved
from debate to doxology without missing a beat.
The command is clear. Heart, Soul, and Mind. Love
God with all you’ve got.