HOW Perfect Love Casts out fear
In Matthew 21, Jesus enters Jerusalem on a donkey, welcomed with love and worship. Crowds lay down cloaks and branches, crying “Hosanna to the Son of David,” celebrating Him as the humble King of Peace. This moment, known as Palm Sunday, marks the beginning of Holy Week—a week that starts in love but ends in fear, showing the contrast between human affection and divine love.As the week unfolds, Jesus challenges corruption in the temple, heals the needy, and continues to draw others into His love. But by Friday, fear overtakes the crowds that once praised Him, leading to His crucifixion. Yet Jesus’ divine love remains constant—steadfast in the face of fear, doubt, and betrayal. Unlike human love, divine love is unwavering, proven through sacrifice, and rooted in God's very nature.
The nature of divine love, while often quoted simply as “God is love,” runs much deeper than a surface-level sentiment. It is not just relatable or comforting—it’s sacrificial, communal, and transformational.. Divine love can’t be boiled down to a single experience or point of view. When we try to define it through only our personal lens—our politics, family, culture, or pain—we risk shrinking the full picture of who God is. This limited lens can isolate us, and worse, misrepresent God’s love, leading to fear, self-protection, or injustice. Divine love requires community. It’s not instant, and it doesn’t come through screens or quick content. It is grown over time, through shared burdens, honest confession, and intentional relationships. It is slow, patient, and deeply formational.
Divine love is costly. Unlike the pop message “Love don’t cost a thing,” divine love cost Jesus everything. His invitation in Matthew 16:24 to deny ourselves and take up our cross is a call into vulnerability, risk, and transformation. The message calls us to honest confession—not vague requests, but specific truth-telling that breaks the power of sin. Jesus didn’t suffer so we could avoid pain, but so that our pain wouldn't be our end. The Church isn't immune to failing at this, and we must acknowledge the pain some have experienced within it. Still, we're invited to model Jesus—not in perfection, but in our willingness to walk in the light together. Discipleship is the pathway to healing. It's messy, slow, and deeply human, but it's also where real change happens
Palm Sunday invites us into this ongoing, eternal love story of divine love - a love that predates us, includes us, and continues through us. In the end, divine love invites us out of isolation and into the light, where fear no longer defines us, and where we can be transformed together—bit by bit—into something new, whole, and healed. Divine love doesn’t demand we prove ourselves but asks us to believe and follow. To look at our fears, costs, stories, identify the symptoms, seek the roots, and trust that God meets us not to shame us, but to restore us. Just as Jesus rode into Jerusalem knowing the cost, he invites us to follow him toward a love that heals, transforms, and gives life.
Reflection Questions
How do you define love — and how does it compare to the love descibed in 1 John 4?
What would it look like for you to receive and respond to the sacrificial love of Jesus in a deeper way this week?
How do you handle moments when God’s love feels costly—when it asks something difficult of you?
What do you think it means that divine love is for “every tribe, nation, and tongue,” and how might that impact how you love those different from you?
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