Romans 13:8-14
September 6, 2026
I
have been having computer issues this week. My old laptop shook off its earthly
charging cord and went to that great tech recycling bin in the sky. But losing
the old laptop required me to get a new laptop, and that required a couple of
trips up to the Best Buy in Cool Springs. Yesterday, Brent and I were on our
way to Best Buy, and we were stopped at a big and busy intersection. I was in
the passenger seat and not paying attention to the traffic ahead of us, when I
heard a loud bang and Brent said,
“Oh
my gosh, an accident just happened! A car went up in the air!”
We
were a few cars back from the light, but on the other side of this busy, big
intersection, two cars hit. One of the cars had flipped over on its side, and a
woman was trying to climb out of the car window. Several people on that side of
the highway had stopped to help. Two men
were helping the woman get out of the car, and they carried her away from the
car. Other people were bringing jackets or anything extra that they had in the
car to put on the road, and then around her shoulders. And the two men carrying her laid her on
those clothes. One of the guys who had helped her get out of the vehicle, then
climbed into it, I guess to make sure no one else was trapped.
We
were able to drive around it, and I worried to myself about whether we should
have stopped as well, but there were so many people right there that I think
more folks stopping would have been a hindrance rather than a help. Both Brent and I were pretty shaken up by
this, because we both understand how quickly something like that can happen and
how terrible it can be. As we were driving down our part of the highway, two
fire trucks were racing toward the accident. And I did what I always do when I
see something like this, I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer for everyone
involved – the drivers, the helpers, the first responders. And I thought about
the fact that we had just witnessed love at work in the people who helped the
woman out of the car, ran to bring jackets, and called for help. That’s what
Paul was talking about when he said to owe no one anything except for love, I
thought. The people who helped may or may not have thought about owing love to
someone else, but their actions spoke loud and clear.
“Owe
no one anything except to love one another; for the one who loves another has
fulfilled the law.”
What
we owe one another. Maybe this should be a question instead of a declarative
statement. What do we owe one another? Paul writes that the only thing we
should owe one another is love. Whenever I read statements like this in our
scripture, I always think about how beautiful and poetic this kind of language
sounds, but how hard it actually is to live out and live into. Loving one
another is never a simple task, because love’s requirements are not simple nor
are they easy. The debt of love requires us to put ourselves last and others
first. Love requires us to reach outward rather than drawing inward. Loving one
another can put us into situations that are challenging, even frightening. Owing
each other love is not as simple as it might sound, is it? So, what do we owe one
another? If we owe only love, then what does that mean and what does that look
like?
One
challenge to owing one another only love is that so much of our world – our
societies, our relationships, businesses, and even the church – seem to be built
and structured on something else other than the debt of love. We look at owing
one another as quid pro quo. If you do for me, then I’ll do for you. You
scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. But that has nothing to do with what Paul
is writing about in this letter to the church in Rome.
Paul
wrote that the one thing we owe to one another is love. There are three types
of love in Greek. There is Eros — which is romantic love. When we fall in love,
we fall into eros. There is Philia — which is friendship and loyalty. Think of
Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. Its name begins with philia. The
third kind of love is Agape. Agape is love that willingly sacrifices itself for
another. It is love that does for someone else without expecting anything in
return. It is love that pulls a woman out of a car or carries someone out down
flight after flight of steps in a burning tower.
The love that Paul uses in these
verses is not eros. It is not philia. It is agape. Owe no one anything other
than agape, a love that sacrifices itself for another. I go round and round
with Paul on many things, but I cannot deny the power of his rhetoric. This is
a rhetorical feat. By using the language of owing, of debt, and then pairing
that with agape, Paul sets up his listeners for a shock, especially if you take
into account what he writes in the verses preceding ours about what we owe
others in authority.
Listen, y’all. You should be good
citizens. Obey the laws. Pay your taxes. Do what is right. But when it comes to
owing others, the only thing you owe is love. That’s it. Oh, by the way, the
love that you owe each other is agape love.
Wait a minute, Paul. Agape love is
about sacrifice and willingness to give all that we have and do all that we
can. So, what you’re saying is that all we owe is agape, but that means that we
owe one another everything! Yikes!
But here’s the rub. Paul makes it
sound simple. But we know it isn’t. We know how hard it is to love others. Yesterday,
Brent and I witnessed people acting out of agape love. But I can’t help but
wonder if those same people would have anything to do one another had it not
been for that terrible accident? I’m not trying to be cynical. It’s just that
we are living in divided, polarized times. That’s an understatement. A crisis
brought out the agape, the love, that lives in us. On Friday, we will observe
the 25th anniversary of the most terrible crisis in my lifetime. On
September 11, 2001, we watched in real time as agape love leapt into chasm hate
created. Agape love seems to be at its most visible in an emergency.
But Paul was not writing in terms
of an emergency or a crisis. He didn’t write, owe no one anything except love
when the worst happens. He did not pen, owe no one anything but love but only when
the world falls apart. He wrote,
“Owe no one anything, except to
love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”
Paul does not make this love we owe
one another conditional or time contingent. What we owe one another is love,
agape love, love that sacrifices, love that puts the other first, love that
does what is hard and even what is scary. And this isn’t love that is reserved
only for the people you like or agree with. It is for everyone.
Why can’t we do that? Why can’t we
take Paul’s words seriously and act in a way that shows we love others, without
concern about what it may cost us? I think that’s the clue. What does it cost
us to owe nothing but love?
I
think when we read and hear statements about agape love like this, we believe
that we are being called to give away everything we have. Certainly, Jesus did
not shy away from that kind of call in the gospels. He told the rich young man
that if he wanted to follow Jesus, he had to sell his possessions and give
everything to the poor. And it is highly possible that Jesus was speaking
literally. But, for the sake of argument, Paul’s words are not necessarily asking
us to give up everything we own for someone else, so what is this agape love? Does
agape love require us to believe that other people are as human as we are? Do
we owe other people the right to exist, even if their existence challenges us?
Do we owe other people the common courtesy of treating them with dignity and
respect? Do we owe others the belief that their experience, their perspective,
their life has meaning and truth, even if we don’t understand it or can see it?
It
seems to me that some of the worst atrocities humankind has committed against
humankind — and there have been many and continue to be many — comes out of our
ability to convince ourselves that the other is not fully human, that they are
lesser than us, or that their lives matter less. And when we can convince
ourselves of this, then we can convince ourselves to do terrible things to
others because we believe that their lives matter less than our own; or that
their lives matter not at all.
What
do we owe one another if we all we owe is agape love? We owe one another
everything.
Writer
Anne Lamott tells a story in her book, Bird By Bird, about an
eight-year-old boy. His little sister was diagnosed with a blood disease. His
parents tell him that he may have the same blood as his sister, and if he does,
then a transfusion of his blood could help her live. The brother agrees to be
tested, and it turns out that his blood is a match for his sister. The parents
ask him if he is willing to give her some of his blood so she can live. He asks
to think about it. He goes to bed and the next morning he tells his parents
that he is willing to give his sister his blood. All the arrangements are made.
The little boy and his sister are in a room together, and they begin the
transfusion. Everything seems to be going fine. The doctor comes over to check
on the little boy. The doctor asks how he is doing, and the little boy looks at
the doctor and asks,
“When
will I begin to die?”
I’m
sure everyone rushed to explain to him that he wouldn’t die giving his sister
his blood. I’m sure they immediately reassured him that all would be well. This
would not require his giving of his life for his sister. But the little boy
thought it would. And he did it anyway. He was willing to die so his sister
could live. That is agape. That is what we owe to one another. Thanks be to
God.
Let
all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”
Amen.
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