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John 15: 9-17 | King James Audio Bible KJV | Daily Verses | King James Version
9 As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love.
10 If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father’s commandments, and abide in his love.
11 These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.
12 This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you.
13 Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
14 Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.
15 Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard of my Father I have made known unto you.
16 Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain: that whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in my name, he may give it you.
17 These things I command you, that ye love one another.
In our Gospel verses this Thursday and Friday, and also Sunday (B), Jesus develops on the parable of the vine and the branches with an injunction for us to be at one with each other, as with Jesus and the Father, through love. The love to which we are called is of a special quality. It is divinely inspired and a reflection of Jesus’ love for us, itself a reflection of the love between the Son and the Father. This is the new commandment.
It is truly an extraordinary relationship: as we worship Jesus, so too do we know he is our friend; God is with us in this way, sharing our life with us, to the extent of becoming incarnate as one of us. If we consider all the best qualities of friendship, then we know how to live as Christians.
Saint Paul speaks of these qualities beautifully, as he speaks about love, charity, caritas:
4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity. (1 Corinthians 13: 4-13)
This, then, is the love of Christ which we are called to imitate. We are to love each other as Jesus has loved us, with utter selflessness, with no claims, no ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’, with complete giving and self-sacrifice where another’s needs require, with no thought as to how our good deeds to others might profit ourselves. This is friendship. Jesus Christ is the model of the good friend.
In these verses of the Bible, Jesus teaches us also that it is he who has chosen us. This is a great truth. Our very capacity to love flows from God. Our receptivity to God is itself a gift of God. When we love another human being, this is through the grace of God. Through this thought, we sense both the interconnectedness of all life on earth, and the loving presence of our Lord, each and every moment sustaining all life.
‘This is the Lamb’s flesh; this is his blood. For the Bread who came down from heaven declared: “The bread which I shall give is my flesh for the life of the world.” It is right that the appearance of wine should be the sign of his blood, for he said himself in the gospel: “I am the true vine.” These words show that any wine offered as a sign of his passion is his blood. For this reason the blessed patriarch Jacob had prophesied concerning the Messiah in these words: “He will wash his garments in wine and his vesture in the blood of grapes.” For he was destined to put on the garments of our body and wash them in his own blood.’ St Gaudentius
King James Audio Bible | Endnotes
Fullness And Perfection Of Christian Love | That A Man Lay Down His Life For His Friends
John 15:9-17 and 15:26-16:4 are passages that speak of the fullness and perfection of Christian love. In these verses, Jesus gives his disciples the command to love one another as he has loved them. This love is characterized by self-sacrifice and the willingness to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. It is a love that is not based on personal gain, but on the desire to serve and give to others.
The call to love one another is a central theme in the Christian faith, and it is one that has been emphasized by religious authorities throughout history. One such authority is St. Augustine, who wrote, ‘Love, and do what you will.’ He believed that if we truly love, we will naturally act in ways that are in line with God’s will. This echoes the message of John 15:10, where Jesus says, ‘If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father’s commandments, and abide in his love.’
The call to love is not an easy one, and Jesus acknowledges this in John 15:18-19, where he tells his disciples that the world will hate them because they do not belong to it. This is a reminder that true Christian love is countercultural and requires us to go against the norms of the world. But as St. Teresa of Avila wrote, ‘Love consists not in feeling great things but in having great detachment and in suffering for the beloved.’
In John 15:13, Jesus says, ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’ This is a call to the ultimate form of self-sacrifice, to be willing to give up one’s own life for the sake of others. This idea is echoed by the Catholic Church’s teaching on the ‘universal call to holiness’, which encourages all Christians to strive for a life of self-giving love. Pope Francis has emphasized this teaching, saying, ‘We are all called to be holy by living our lives with love and by bearing witness in everything we do, wherever we find ourselves.’
But the call to love can also be challenging in more everyday situations. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, ‘The person who loves their dream of community will destroy community, but the person who loves those around them will create community.’ This reminds us that true Christian love is not just about grand gestures of self-sacrifice, but about daily acts of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness towards those around us.
In John 15:26-16:4, Jesus speaks of the role of the Holy Spirit in enabling us to live out this call to love. He tells his disciples that the Spirit will guide them into all truth and will testify about him. This is a reminder that the call to love is not something we can accomplish on our own, but something that requires the power and guidance of the Holy Spirit. As the Protestant theologian John Calvin wrote, ‘It is the Holy Spirit who imparts to us the strength to love, as well as the love itself.’
The call to Christian love is a call to love that is characterized by self-sacrifice, detachment, and the willingness to lay down one’s life for others. This call to love is challenging. It is a call that requires us to go against the norms of the world and to rely on the power of the Holy Spirit to enable us to live our Christian faith.
Jesus exemplified meekness through his actions. Despite having immense power, Jesus chose to serve others, show compassion, and sacrifice for their well-being. Jesus demonstrated that genuine strength lies in selflessness and aligning oneself with a higher purpose [ … ]
Today’s Gospel verses continue Jesus’ stinging critique of the hypocrisy of the Pharisees. Jesus condemns the Pharisees’ conduct, threatening them with punishment – ‘Woe unto you!’ – if they do not repent and mend their ways. Having over the centuries acquired a degree of power in Jerusalem, the Pharisees now abuse that power. Greedy for honour and recognition as they are, their show of great virtue is merely that, a show, while in essence they live in gross discordance with the truth of God [ … ]
The Carrefour will be open, where I can buy nuts for the red squirrel, who lives in Campo Grande. The red squirrel is Valladolid’s best bit. Even as a child, I had never seen one before, apart from in picture books. It was last term’s discovery. The most beautiful encounter. I didn’t know it was there – in the park. A complete surprise. The tiny little thing bobbled and hopped, as it received in its little hands a nut from the man’s hands. Each surprising instant – it was childlike. I whispered: ‘Oh my wow.’ I walk toward the El Cortes Ingles. There is, for now, that settled feel of friends in bookshops. Though a null-affect, neutral day – it won’t glean, it is not to be scratched at. The queues are long in the Carrefour. Though, as it might be, on relatively modest incomes, many people live centrally. Their behaviours neither pinched nor stark. Yet the shop so busy while the street so empty… An error in the simulation, a glitch in the code. I potter about the aisles, which are pleasant enough, then at the tills I flinch at how expensive a little bag of up-sold nuts can be. Nonetheless, I queue for a packet of almonds. Two English men queue directly ahead of me. They are stocky, and have gay voices, their wheelie-bucket piled with soft drinks and party food, while they bitch to one another about the obviously terrible party they’re going to. The air heaves relief as I wander up the way to the broad plaza fringing Campo Grande. This is a place to see – a piece of Spain. There is a tourist information office, though unopened. At these fountains, three girls take selfies. Pompous-looking buildings, the military offices aside, line the park’s nearest vicinities. Hotel-bars have their patches. Liveried doormen idle time, for there are no paying customers, in and out the doorways’ shadows. A mixed group of kids play at the hoops on the pedestrian boulevard, and two boys practise on skateboards, working the thing out. I pass by them, touched by the thought, and happy that they are there. Wistful, I smile at the odds of the ball spilling over to me, and play in mind the agreeable scene of a fleeting connection. Then I am through the park gates. An air now – of humanity become self-selecting. Modestly understated. Understatedly modest. Campo Grande is nice but it isn’t grande… I walk slowly, and very soon hear for a second time English voices. Not them – it is an English family, just a little way ahead, a Dad and a Mum and a younger boy and an older girl, and theirs are Midlands accents. Dad seems to have been here and to know the place. He gestures panoramically. Mum wants her lunch. The girl at a difficult age. She carries a balloon-on-a-stick. Though she is sprouting – yet wears a loud dress. Then leggings, trainers. Her hair is nice… Maybe she is being okay about it. And not horrific. It’s okay once they get into it, but those months… Yet then, they mostly blossom, if they come from a good home, and become rounded personalities, entering into their womanhood. It was that… when yet they weren’t… I shudder to think of it. They walk toward the pond, and I trail, and would follow had I not been going that way. I wish I could say something so they might hear I am English too. (Fake a phone call?) How my voice might sound – there’d be all college hurling around in such matter I… a demented thing, ludicrous blurt – of Henry, Geoff, and all of them – not to mention the personal predicament. Maybe they’re a nice family. She is letting him explain what he needs to explain. And it would blow his fire, me being English. Mum and Dad. You’d probably see them all having their lunch in a little while. All sat round the table. With napkins and the menus out. Dad looks safe. I look into the pond. Terrapins live in there. But not today. I walk toward the join in the paths where the squirrel lives. There, I crumple the packet of almonds, making noise. I peer and I squat and crouch – chewing a mouthful. All the peacocks have perched right up in the trees’ branches. That never looks like something they should be doing. It’s disappointing that the squirrel isn’t here – but then the not-knowing-if is a part of it. Now, next, my visit to the National Sculpture Museum is an obligation. Canon Peter stood literally aghast when I hadn’t heard of it. Mortified, I made resolute promises. Though a few weeks have passed, it isn’t just any old something I could do on the hoof. A great commitment – it must command a known and prepared and anticipated not-just-any-old-time. But, rather, the sort you must wait for – and listen for. [ … ] Beyond Plaza Mayor, there would be a brief series of old-town alleyways. The National Sculpture Museum would be – just up there, this archway, this next…They are bleached and forgotten-looking walls, and the smoothed paving could be medieval. Not that it is making Tomàs anxious – I follow the map. A kind of place – uneasy credit-cards, and modern vaccinations, and a phone, might not help much. I fancy I feel the back-wall of a church, and that – fancifully – pressure-release drawn out of me. Only I am playing games in a nice way – making play-scared on the uncertainty – with only myself to see. The National Museum is there, modestly signed on stencilled plexiglass stuck to the stone wall. A uniformed lady sits just a little way inside the doorway. She reassures me there is no money required, and directs me over the courtyard into the planned route, showing me where I can pick up a free map. I get my […]
