Romans 12:9-13 // Because of Grace, We Love Genuinely
The Love of God
When was the last time you stopped and really thought deeply about the love of God? Not just the surface layer phrases we say in church all the time, but the full weight of what it means. It's a love that can't be earned. No strings attached. Given freely, completely, openly.
A Courtroom
Picture a courtroom. Dark wood, high ceilings, every word echoing. In the defendant's chair sits you, listening as the prosecutor reads the full list of everything you've ever done wrong. There's no defense, because it's all true. The judge delivers the verdict: guilty, on all counts.
Then something impossible happens. The judge stands up, walks over to the defendant's chair, and asks one question.
"Can I sit here?"
He wants to take the place of the guilty. He wants to bear the sentence himself. And all that's left to say back to him is thank you.
That's the gospel. Sin separates us from God, and yet God, the perfect judge, stepped down from the bench himself in the person of Jesus to take that place and bear that sin on the cross.
The sentence is paid in full.
The late pastor and author Tim Keller put it well in The Meaning of Marriage: “we are more flawed than we ever dared believe, and at the same time more loved and accepted in Christ than we ever dared hope.”
Today's Verse // Romans 12:9-13
"Don't just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other. Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying. When God's people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality." Romans 12:9-13 (NLT)
It's a lot to take in. Take delight in honoring each other, serve enthusiastically, be patient in trouble, practice hospitality. Read at face value, it can start to feel like a list too long to actually live out. But it all comes down to one simple truth.
Because of grace, we love genuinely.
Grace is the fuel. Genuine love is the fire. Without the fuel, there's no fire to speak of.
Why We're Still Here
Paul writes in Philippians that to live is Christ and to die is gain. If death is gain, that raises the question: why are we still here? The answer is mission, helping people find Jesus. Not through a sermon or a worship song or a church event, but through relationship. Genuine. Love.
There's a common misconception that ministry only happens inside a church building, among church staff and church people. But most people are far better positioned to reach someone far from God than a pastor is. The coworker who's exhausted and underpaid. The patient facing a hard diagnosis. The student trying to figure out who they are while everyone around them tells them who to be. Ministry happens out there, in ordinary places, through ordinary relationships.
Jesus's parting words in Matthew 28 were "go and make disciples." Emphasis on go.
Love Is How We Bring People to Jesus
1 Corinthians 13 says that even the greatest gifts, prophecy, knowledge, sacrifice, mean nothing without love. Love is what actually draws people in. Not the services, not the songs, not the social media, not the outreach events. Those things flow out of love, but without it, they amount to nothing.
Think about two different conversations with a coworker. One where a stranger is confronted cold about sin and repentance. Another where real trust has been built over time through showing up during hard seasons, listening without judgment, being present. The second conversation is the one people are actually open to.
Everyone is searching for something, whether they'd say it out loud or not. That searching person could be a coworker, a patient, a classmate. Mission is all around, all the time.
Light the Fire
There's a lesson in building a fire that maps onto this. Some wood, like balsa, lights fast and burns out fast. Other wood, like oak or hickory, is dense, harder to light, but burns for the whole evening. Trying to love people genuinely through sheer effort and willpower is like trying to keep a fire going with kindling alone. It burns out fast.
So what's the dense wood? Not striving harder. Remembering.
Psalm 51:10-12 is the anchor here: "Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me. Do not banish me from your presence, and don't take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you."
Genuine love can't be manufactured. It can only be ignited by gratitude for the cross.
Walking Through Romans 12 Again
Run back through that Romans 12 passage verse by verse, and each piece changes when it's fueled by gratitude instead of obligation. Hating what's wrong stops feeling like a rule and starts feeling like waking up to how dim old habits really look. Holding to what's good becomes daily nourishment instead of duty. Taking the posture of a servant becomes a source of joy rather than a burden.
Being patient in trouble is the hardest one. There's a prayer banner at the church where the congregation writes requests in black ink, circling them in green when God answers. Some requests stay uncircled for a long time. But that doesn't mean the story has stopped being written. Even in seasons where the answer hasn't come the way we hoped, there's a strength that shows up in weakness, a kind of protection in the middle of the storm.
Every uncircled prayer is still part of the testimony, not evidence that it's been ignored.
They Will Know Us by Our Love
Here's a hard but honest question: would the world say Christians are known by their love in 2026? A quote from a Reddit thread on Christianity captures the gap well, describing how different churches would look if they were truly known for love rather than judgment, and how that reputation gap keeps hurting people away:
“If the church was truly known for love can you imagine how different things would be? Churches would be filled with the outcasts, the ones people judge and don't like, the ones who are hurting, the ones who are rejected elsewhere. Your church may truly accept people like this but you don't see many people like this not because of [the] church specifically… but because everyone knows that's not how it really is...”
This isn't about dismissing conviction or truth. It's that if opinions and preferences are louder than love, people will stumble over believers instead of finding their way to Jesus.
Francis Schaeffer called love "the final apologetic," the visible evidence of faith that the watching world is entitled to see.
Let’s Dream
Imagine what could happen if genuine love became the loudest thing about the church. Hurting people finding their way in. People with nothing else in common sharing a meal and actually listening to each other. Coworkers seeking out prayer in a break room not because of anything impressive, but because something in that love felt real.
An Invitation
Back to the courtroom. Jesus is standing there right now, in front of every person, asking the same question the judge asked the defendant.
"Can I sit here?"
Whether that's a question being answered for the first time or reaffirmed, the response is the same. A prayer, prayed together:
Lord Jesus, I believe you died for me. I want to follow you. I invite you to be Lord of my life. Help me follow you every day. I want to leave my old life of sin behind and heal my broken relationship with God. In Jesus's name, Amen.
