One of the most famous events in ancient history was the assassination of
Gaius Julius Caesar on the Ides of March in 44 BC. Some 200 years later, a Roman historian named Dion Cassius, described the funeral that followed. Of
particular interest was this sentence he penned:
“You loved him as a father, and you loved him as a benevolent leader.”
These words, according to Dion, were spoken by Marc Antony to the mass of
Roman citizens who had assembled for Caesar’s funeral. So far, nothing seems
unusual, right?
Well, let’s look at this sentence a little closer. I want to call your
attention to the word “love” which appears twice.
You have probably heard of several Greek words for love, one being Agape.
You likely associate Agape love with God’s love. In the famous John 3:16
passage, we read:
“For God so loved (Agape) the world…”
In 1 John 4:8, we are told:
“God is love (Agape).”
So, you are on pretty safe ground when you identify Agape as God’s love. That
is, it’s the love that is a part of God’s very nature. In fact, the Apostle
John describes this love as being “alien” to humans. There is no human
parallel.
There is another word for love (a synonym) in the Greek: Phileo.
This word is often associated with a friendship kind of love. Of the two
words, Agape is generally considered the higher, more virtuous love, while
Phileo has been considered, to some extent, lower on the totem pole. This is what a first and second year Greek student will tell you.
With this distinction in mind, let’s return to that sentence uttered by
Marc. I will tell you now that when Dion wrote this he used both Greek
words, Agape and Phileo. Here is that sentence again with Greek words added:
“You loved (Phileo) him as a father, and you loved (Agape) him as a
benevolent leader.”
Isn’t that a bit odd? You would think the Dion would use the highest kind of
love (Agape) in the context of one’s love for his or her father. Further, I
would have expected the friendship kind of love (Phileo) to be used when
describing the Roman citizens’ affection toward Caesar as a benevolent
leader, since Phileo is considered the “lesser” love. But is it?
Once again, this use of synonyms caught Dr. Trench’s eye. This one sentence
is not the only time this distinction is made between these two words. There
are other writings that use Agape and Phileo as Dion used them.
After reviewing most of these uses of Agape and Phileo, Trench makes these
observations: Agape is love which is bestowed, upon reflection, on that
which is worthy of regard; there seems to be associated with Agape the idea
of choice or selection. Additionally, this Agape love is not an unreasonable
love. In other words, one loves for this or that reason.
Phileo, Dr. Trench contends, is more instinctive. It issues forth from one’s
natural affections and passions. This is the love that is often displayed by
one's heightened emotions.
Again, with these distinctions in mind, one could make the case that Phileo
can attain heights that Agape can not. For example, you may recall in the
movie Love Story, when Ali MacGraw became very ill. Ryan O’Neal very
passionately did all he could to help her. That passion which consumed him I
would describe with Phileo, not Agape. That kind of love was extremely
intense and emotional. Agape just can not create that image. But Phileo sure
can. But it should also be noted here that in this example, Ryan also Agape
loved Ali. But the scenes that showed Ryan in that desperate, emotional
state is the picture I get when I think of Phileo in all its splendor.
If we concede that Phileo better describes this instinctive and very
passionate love, then a section in the Gospel of John will transform before
our eyes.
Let’s briefly examine the famous scene in which Christ asks Peter three
times if he loves Him:
Then when they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
“Simon, son of John, do you love (Agape) me more than these do?”
He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love (Phileo) you!”
Jesus told him, “Feed my lambs.”
Jesus said a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love (Agape) me?”
He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love (Phileo) you!”
Jesus told him, “Shepherd my sheep.”
Jesus said a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love (Phileo) me?”
Peter was distressed that Jesus asked him a third time, “Do you love me?”
and said, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love (Phileo) you.”
The first two times Christ questioned Peter concerning his love for Him, He
used the word Agape. But on both occasions Peter replied by saying that he
Phileo loved Him. On the third, and final, occasion Christ then asked Peter
if he indeed did Phileo love Him. These relentless questions, seemingly
insinuating something not to Peter’s liking, to some extent distressed him.
He was noticeably upset. But Peter did not give in. He never wavered in this
conversation. On the third reply, Peter again demanded that he Phileo loved
the Lord.
Here are some of Dr. Trench’s notes regarding this passionate scene:
“In that threefold “Lovest thou me?” which the risen Lord addresses to
Peter, He asks him first, Agape me? At this moment, when all the pulses in
the heart of the now penitent Apostle is beating with a passionate
affection toward his Lord, this word (Agape) on the Lord’s lips sounds too
cold to very imperfectly express the warmth of his affection toward Him.”
Trench then adds, “And now at length he has triumphed; for when his Lord
puts the question to him a third time, it is not Agape any more, but
Phileo.”
The main reason I have addressed this passage on Peter’s love is primarily
because I have not come across any commentary that seems to capture this
clearly emotional and impetuous moment of Peter as Trench has so skillfully
done. Contextually and lexically, Trench has handled this passage well. I
believe his insights warrant a closer look into this marvelous conclusion to
John’s Gospel!
We must always guard against sensationalizing any biblical passage beyond
its intent. But I feel that this encounter of Peter with the Lord was filled
with raw emotion. I just don’t see Peter replying to the Lord as if to
say, “Yes Lord, I do love you, albeit with a diminutive love.” That’s simply
not Peter. Nor does it capture the miraculous impact that a “risen” Savior
had on him (or anyone for that matter). We believe in the resurrected Lord,
but Peter saw Him! This we know: Peter was never the same.
Reread John 21. Feel the crescendo that climaxes as John opens this window
into Peter’s heart. I do not doubt for a second that Peter’s love for the
Lord ever retreated.
Gaius Julius Caesar on the Ides of March in 44 BC. Some 200 years later, a Roman historian named Dion Cassius, described the funeral that followed. Of
particular interest was this sentence he penned:
“You loved him as a father, and you loved him as a benevolent leader.”
These words, according to Dion, were spoken by Marc Antony to the mass of
Roman citizens who had assembled for Caesar’s funeral. So far, nothing seems
unusual, right?
Well, let’s look at this sentence a little closer. I want to call your
attention to the word “love” which appears twice.
You have probably heard of several Greek words for love, one being Agape.
You likely associate Agape love with God’s love. In the famous John 3:16
passage, we read:
“For God so loved (Agape) the world…”
In 1 John 4:8, we are told:
“God is love (Agape).”
So, you are on pretty safe ground when you identify Agape as God’s love. That
is, it’s the love that is a part of God’s very nature. In fact, the Apostle
John describes this love as being “alien” to humans. There is no human
parallel.
There is another word for love (a synonym) in the Greek: Phileo.
This word is often associated with a friendship kind of love. Of the two
words, Agape is generally considered the higher, more virtuous love, while
Phileo has been considered, to some extent, lower on the totem pole. This is what a first and second year Greek student will tell you.
With this distinction in mind, let’s return to that sentence uttered by
Marc. I will tell you now that when Dion wrote this he used both Greek
words, Agape and Phileo. Here is that sentence again with Greek words added:
“You loved (Phileo) him as a father, and you loved (Agape) him as a
benevolent leader.”
Isn’t that a bit odd? You would think the Dion would use the highest kind of
love (Agape) in the context of one’s love for his or her father. Further, I
would have expected the friendship kind of love (Phileo) to be used when
describing the Roman citizens’ affection toward Caesar as a benevolent
leader, since Phileo is considered the “lesser” love. But is it?
Once again, this use of synonyms caught Dr. Trench’s eye. This one sentence
is not the only time this distinction is made between these two words. There
are other writings that use Agape and Phileo as Dion used them.
After reviewing most of these uses of Agape and Phileo, Trench makes these
observations: Agape is love which is bestowed, upon reflection, on that
which is worthy of regard; there seems to be associated with Agape the idea
of choice or selection. Additionally, this Agape love is not an unreasonable
love. In other words, one loves for this or that reason.
Phileo, Dr. Trench contends, is more instinctive. It issues forth from one’s
natural affections and passions. This is the love that is often displayed by
one's heightened emotions.
Again, with these distinctions in mind, one could make the case that Phileo
can attain heights that Agape can not. For example, you may recall in the
movie Love Story, when Ali MacGraw became very ill. Ryan O’Neal very
passionately did all he could to help her. That passion which consumed him I
would describe with Phileo, not Agape. That kind of love was extremely
intense and emotional. Agape just can not create that image. But Phileo sure
can. But it should also be noted here that in this example, Ryan also Agape
loved Ali. But the scenes that showed Ryan in that desperate, emotional
state is the picture I get when I think of Phileo in all its splendor.
If we concede that Phileo better describes this instinctive and very
passionate love, then a section in the Gospel of John will transform before
our eyes.
Let’s briefly examine the famous scene in which Christ asks Peter three
times if he loves Him:
Then when they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
“Simon, son of John, do you love (Agape) me more than these do?”
He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love (Phileo) you!”
Jesus told him, “Feed my lambs.”
Jesus said a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love (Agape) me?”
He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love (Phileo) you!”
Jesus told him, “Shepherd my sheep.”
Jesus said a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love (Phileo) me?”
Peter was distressed that Jesus asked him a third time, “Do you love me?”
and said, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love (Phileo) you.”
The first two times Christ questioned Peter concerning his love for Him, He
used the word Agape. But on both occasions Peter replied by saying that he
Phileo loved Him. On the third, and final, occasion Christ then asked Peter
if he indeed did Phileo love Him. These relentless questions, seemingly
insinuating something not to Peter’s liking, to some extent distressed him.
He was noticeably upset. But Peter did not give in. He never wavered in this
conversation. On the third reply, Peter again demanded that he Phileo loved
the Lord.
Here are some of Dr. Trench’s notes regarding this passionate scene:
“In that threefold “Lovest thou me?” which the risen Lord addresses to
Peter, He asks him first, Agape me? At this moment, when all the pulses in
the heart of the now penitent Apostle is beating with a passionate
affection toward his Lord, this word (Agape) on the Lord’s lips sounds too
cold to very imperfectly express the warmth of his affection toward Him.”
Trench then adds, “And now at length he has triumphed; for when his Lord
puts the question to him a third time, it is not Agape any more, but
Phileo.”
The main reason I have addressed this passage on Peter’s love is primarily
because I have not come across any commentary that seems to capture this
clearly emotional and impetuous moment of Peter as Trench has so skillfully
done. Contextually and lexically, Trench has handled this passage well. I
believe his insights warrant a closer look into this marvelous conclusion to
John’s Gospel!
We must always guard against sensationalizing any biblical passage beyond
its intent. But I feel that this encounter of Peter with the Lord was filled
with raw emotion. I just don’t see Peter replying to the Lord as if to
say, “Yes Lord, I do love you, albeit with a diminutive love.” That’s simply
not Peter. Nor does it capture the miraculous impact that a “risen” Savior
had on him (or anyone for that matter). We believe in the resurrected Lord,
but Peter saw Him! This we know: Peter was never the same.
Reread John 21. Feel the crescendo that climaxes as John opens this window
into Peter’s heart. I do not doubt for a second that Peter’s love for the
Lord ever retreated.
