Greatness iS Love: Matthew 22:34-40
Sometimes the simplest instructions are the ones we manage to complicate the most.
Take “Load the dishwasher,” for example. It sounds easy — until you realize there’s an entire unspoken doctrine of dishwasher law. Plates have a “correct” facing direction (and a wrong one that will get you accused of crimes against humanity). Coffee mugs apparently have assigned seating. Bowls need “airflow.” The silverware basket has deep theological divisions over “handle up” vs. “handle down.” What started as a 10-minute task is now a fifty-point checklist.
We do this with a lot of things in life — take something straightforward and turn it into something exhausting. Relationships. Work. Even our faith. Somewhere along the way, the relationship God invited us into became a performance we felt we had to maintain. We built a stack of rules… then rules about those rules… and before long, holiness looked more like productivity than love.
And then Jesus walks into the middle of the noise, the clutter, the heavy spiritual backpacks people had been forced to carry by leaders more interested in being right than being loving. He’s asked the biggest, most loaded question of the day — “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” — and instead of complicating things, He cuts right to the center:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind… and love your neighbor as yourself.”
Just that. No disclaimers. No footnotes. No exceptions.
Jesus isn’t lowering the bar here — He’s raising it. He’s telling us this is the target, the definition of greatness in God’s kingdom: Love God. Love people. Everything else hangs from that.
The Setup — A Loaded Question
To feel the weight of Jesus’ answer, you have to understand the tension in the room. This wasn’t an easygoing conversation over coffee. This was a verbal chess match. For several chapters in Matthew, the religious elite had been trying to corner Jesus with questions:
Why do you eat with tax collectors and sinners? (Matt. 9)
Why are your disciples breaking Sabbath rules? (Matt. 12)
By what authority are you doing these things? (Matt. 21)
Should we pay taxes to Caesar? (Matt. 22)
This new question comes from a “lawyer” — a nomikos — an expert in religious law. According to Jewish tradition, the Torah contained 613 commands: 248 positive (“do this”), 365 negative (“don’t do that”). Over time, rabbis debated which were “heavy” (weightier, more important) and which were “light.” But nobody wanted to rank them outright.
If Jesus chose one, He might be accused of downplaying the others. If He said they were all equal, He might look evasive. This was a theological minefield designed to discredit Him — either with the crowds, the religious authorities, or even the Romans.
The Center — Love at the Core
Jesus doesn’t sidestep. He doesn’t get tangled in their categories. He reaches back into the heart of the Law — the Shema from Deuteronomy 6:5 (“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind”) and Leviticus 19:18 (“Love your neighbor as yourself”) — and does something no rabbi had done before: He binds them together.
He refuses to let love for God be merely vertical — just between you and Him. And He refuses to let love for neighbor be detached from worship. He’s saying you cannot separate the two:
You can’t love God and hate your neighbor.
You can’t claim devotion to God and ignore someone made in His image.
You can’t reduce faith to rituals while neglecting compassion.
“All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commands,” Jesus says. Meaning: if your theology, politics, moral convictions, or church culture don’t hang from the hook of love for God and neighbor, they’re not grounded in the Kingdom at all — they’re just noise.
The Struggle — Why Love is Hard
It sounds beautiful — perfect for a wall hanging or bumper sticker — but in real life, loving God and loving people is hard.
It’s hard to love God with your whole heart when your heart is divided, pulled in a hundred directions, weighed down by disappointment, or dulled by comfort. It’s hard to give Him everything when you secretly fear what He might ask in return.
It’s hard to love your neighbor when your neighbor gets on your nerves… votes differently… parents differently… shows up late… or posts that thing online. It’s hard to love in a world that rewards self-protection. It’s hard when you’re tired, hurt, or running on empty.
Jesus knows this. That’s why He doesn’t just tell us to love — He shows us what it looks like: touching lepers, forgiving sinners, washing His betrayer’s feet, praying for His executioners. He loved God with all His being and loved His neighbor — every neighbor — to the point of death.
The Gift — Love Born in Us
And here’s the good news: This kind of love isn’t something we can manufacture by sheer willpower. It’s something the Spirit forms in us as we are loved by Jesus. You don’t just grit your teeth and try harder — you stay close to the One who first loved you, until His love starts shaping your reactions, softening your pride, burning away your fear.
Love isn’t just a command — it’s a calling. And it’s a gift. It’s the very thing God wants to grow in you, not just for your sake but for a world starving to see something real.
In God’s kingdom, greatness isn’t measured by status, power, or religious achievement. Greatness is love — the kind that loves God fully and loves people freely. That’s the Jesus way. That’s the way to life.
