There is a teaching, often repeated with great confidence, that God does not love anyone who is not “in Christ.” It sounds weighty, reverent, and even logical—until it is tested by the very Word of God.
The Scriptures do not describe God’s love as something hidden or conditional. They describe it as demonstrated, revealed, and poured out. It is not withheld until one believes; it is why one is drawn to believe.
Romans 5:8 tells us, “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” This declaration is not veiled in mystery. It plainly states that God loved us before we were justified, reconciled, or sanctified. It is not union with Christ that produced His love; rather, it was His love that initiated the very mission of redemption.
When the Lord Jesus said, “Love your enemies… that you may be sons of your Father in heaven,” He grounded the command in God’s own nature: “for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:44–45). If God’s love were only extended to those already in Christ, then His kindness toward the wicked would be hypocrisy. But Jesus makes clear: our Father loves even His enemies—and we are called to reflect that very love.
This love is not mere sentiment—it is action. The Father sent the Son not because we were worthy, but because we were lost. The mission of Christ was not the beginning of God’s love—it was the manifestation of what had always been in His heart. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son…” (John 3:16). Not the believing world. Not the elect world. The world.
The early Church understood this deeply. They did not preach a love confined to a theological category. They preached a Gospel that was for all men. They were ridiculed, slandered, and hunted—yet they loved their persecutors. They healed the sick, fed the poor, and offered hope to prisoners. Their writings and their lives bore witness that God’s love extended even to the enemies of the cross.
Justin Martyr wrote that Christ became man “for the sake of the human race,” and that the Father sent the Son “for the good of all men.” The Epistle to Diognetus describes God as sending His Son not to those who were already righteous, but to those who were corrupt and unworthy. The Church believed that God’s love was universal in offer and particular in reception—not because His love was limited, but because not all would receive it.
They lived what they believed. In Roman arenas, they forgave their killers. In plague-ridden cities, they stayed to care for the dying. In households and prisons, they offered the Gospel to every soul without distinction. Their theology was not an abstract system—it was the fragrance of Christ, poured out for the world.
This rich testimony stands in stark contrast to later teachings influenced by Stoic and Neoplatonic thought. These philosophies shaped views of God that emphasized impassibility—teaching that the divine could not experience change or passion. Within such a framework, God’s love became a selective extension of will, rather than the unchanging essence of His nature.
As these ideas entered Christian thought through certain teachers, the concept of divine love shifted. God’s affections were no longer seen as genuine or universally extended, but as fixed upon a predetermined few. The dynamic, pursuing love revealed in Scripture gave way to a colder logic—one where love became synonymous with election, and wrath with everyone else.
But the God of Scripture is not like the impassive gods of Greek philosophy. He is the God who weeps over Jerusalem, who is patient toward the wicked, who takes no pleasure in the death of the sinner, who rejoices over the lost sheep. He is not moved by merit, but by mercy. He is not controlled by our response, but He responds in faithful, pursuing love—so that we might turn and live.
If we are to return to the faith once for all delivered to the saints, we must recover this truth: God is love. Not selectively. Not reactively. Not philosophically. He is love by nature, and He has demonstrated that love by giving His Son—so that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
May we, like the early Church, live as those who have known this love—and extend it freely to all. For we are not loved because we are in Christ. We are in Christ because we were loved.
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