I want to be known as someone who would die for my friends. But when I think about dying for a specific friend, it's much harder to imagine following through. I love the idea of love but I don't love making sacrifices. Jesus knows Judas is on his way to betray him. He knows his remaining disciples will deny him and run away from danger. He's loved them for three years, but they still don't understand him, and they still can't do what he asks. He had every right to give them orders and judge them for failing. Instead, he looks into their searching eyes and says, "I chose you. I appointed you. I love you." Then, he tells them the secrets the Father has shared with him. The difference between being God's servant and his friend is access to his heart. There's no scenario in which we don't obey God. When I think about blind obedience, I rightly feel suspicious. But when I think about obeying someone who died for me because he loves me, it feels right. In college, I got involved with a small group of friends that was uncommonly loving toward one another. No task was too small to do for someone else. They had each other over for dinner, washed one another’s dishes, gave car rides, and helped each other study for exams. But it wasn't a clique. If someone else wanted to be part of the group, they could just join. As they got involved, they were already in the room when the Bible studies started, friends started to pray for each other, or everyone got in a car to go to church. By the time I graduated, over a hundred people were meeting for worship in an overcrowded frat house every Tuesday night. They were Jesus' friends. They were friends like Jesus. The command to love isn't an arbitrary requirement. It isn't a manipulative ask. It comes from someone who loved us first.