Intensive care

What do you really care about? Caught up in the daily grind, numbed by an endless stream of political arguments, and bombarded by news of terrorist attacks, we're tempted to grow apathetic and cynical.

By contrast, there's a remarkable intensity in the apostle Paul's message to the Ephesian elders in Acts chapter 20. Paul overflowed with a passionate ambition to spread the gospel and to do the work of Christ. He was careful to proclaim the whole will of God. He and the elders supported one another—kneeling together in fervent prayer, weeping, and embracing each other in Christian love (Acts 20:17-38). These men really cared.

Like them, we must care deeply about truth. Christ's church embraces people from different backgrounds, with various ideas on many non-essential issues. But our faith is far more than a hodgepodge of human opinions or a spiritual stew of religious leftovers. Ephesians 4:4-6 mentions seven basic truths that we must care deeply about. The church is listed there (one body). All three persons of the Godhead are there: one Spirit, one Lord (Jesus), one God and Father of all. Our faith is there, and so is baptism—not a subject of controversy or dissension, but a joyful part of our unity in Christ. Our hope is there, for Christians share a confident expectation of Heaven as we watch for Jesus' return. Great truths like these can mature, stabilize, protect, and unite us (Ephesians 4:3-6, 13-15). We must care about truth.

But we also must care about people. If truth is like a body's skeleton, providing the solid structural core of our faith, then loving deeds are the body's nerves and muscles that enable us to feel and to act. If truth is the root and trunk of the tree, then love must be the leaves, the flowers, the fruit.

Jesus said, "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another" (John 13:35). No special gifts, or knowledge, or acts of sacrifice can take the place of love; "knowledge puffs up, but love builds up" (1 Corinthians 13:1-3; 8:1).

The first-century Christians cared intensely about both truth and love. "All the believers were one in heart and mind"—they learned to conform their attitudes and beliefs to the revealed will of God. Further, "No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had" (Acts 4:32). Among such supportive friends, truth and love were not abstract concepts, but vegetables and meat for hungry families, biblical answers to real-life questions, earnest prayer-partners to share one's pain in hard times, and perhaps a denarius or two to help pay Caesar's taxes. Through authentic Christian fellowship, God's grace took on a human face.

"Speaking the truth in love" (Ephesians 4:15)—it's a dynamic combination. Diligently applied, the truth-love formula could transform our marriages, friendships, churches, and workplaces.

It's a hard balance, though. When we care deeply about truth, it's tempting to be harsh, inflexible, and critical. When we care deeply about people, it's tempting to compromise important convictions so everyone can get along.

Real friends speak the truth, and they do it in love. That's what Jesus did. And we can too—if we care enough.