I never listen to popular music, at least the kind that has lyrics. The hits just keep on comin' and I get confused.
      But in late 1984, I traveled to Wickenburg, Ariz., to spend the Christmas holidays with my mother, sister and her family. One night I drove alone a few miles out of town to the top of a high hill away from any man-made lights just to see again the incredible display of God's universe on a desert night. The car radio was on and I was sitting on a rock next to the open door enthralled by the beauty of the stars.
      A song came on the radio, I Wanna Know What Love Is by Foreigner. You remember it—very '80s rock, but with a mesmerizing chorus:
      "I wanna know what love is...
      "I want you to show me..."
      OK. It's not exactly Shakespeare. And I'd been a believer for more than a decade by then, and I had experienced the love of God in a deep way. So, why was I weeping?
      From my past experiences, I certainly knew what love wasn't.
      Love was always tied to attraction for the opposite sex. Once I became bored with the sex, then obviously I was no longer "in love" with that girl or woman. Because of the undercover government work I was doing, I could never be totally vulnerable to anyone. I'm sure that prevented true love from ever developing. Since I was always with a new, beautiful woman, I was admired by my peers. But I could never admit the hollowness of my life, even to myself.
      From those experiences with what I thought was love, I knew the love of God was a totally different and unrelated phenomena. But hearing this song on that particular night made me realize the two are connected somehow.
      Romantic love is the pale shadow cast by the longing of Christ for the Bride. Even my many sick relationships constituted at least a semblance of that shadow. That song made me realize those years were not wasted, but served a purpose. In Christ, I was experiencing what the shadow had pointed to.
      But what exactly is the real thing?
      In the Old Testament, the Hebrew noun hesed is most often used for the love of God and the love of God for Israel. It is often translated "lovingkindness" or "loyal love." But the Hebrew verb is another matter. More than 200 times, the verb ahed is used for all kinds of love—loving God, loving sleep, loving food, whatever.
      It is similar in the New Testament. The New Testament authors chose a little-used noun, agape, for the unconditional love of God toward man. Its use by the translators of the Septuagint Greek version of the Old Testament is instructive. Here's a few examples:
      Jeremiah 2:2—"I remember you, the kindness of your youth, the agape of your betrothal...."
      Song of Solomon 2:4—"He brought me to his banqueting house and his banner over me was agape."
      Song of Solomon 2:7—"I adjure you, Oh daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the roes of the field do not stir up or awaken agape until it pleases."
      The Greek word eros held too many associations with pagan, self-seeking lust to be useful in conveying the unmerited love of Christ for his bride, the church. But the noun agape, though rarely used in Greek literature, had been used to describe the mystical relationship of the lovers in Song of Solomon. It was a perfect choice.
      On the other hand, the Greek verb agapao was constantly employed in common speech and literature and simply meant, "to give importance to; to care for." There is never a negative use of the noun agape in the Bible. There are plenty of negative uses for agapao.
      The New Testament warns us against loving (agapaoing) darkness (John 3:19), the praise of men (John 12:43), the uppermost seats (Luke 11:43), this present world (1 John 2:15), the wages of unrighteousness (2 Peter 2:15).
      Like frail humanity, the verb agapao can easily be turned from the highest to the basest of purposes.
      This is by God's design.
      The only grains that could be used in making the unleavened bread used for Passover had to be capable of being leavened. In the same way we, who are to love the Lord our God, have the capacity to love everything and anything else.
      Do we love God? How often do we seek to put His will and His desires above our own? How often are we consumed with what He desires and not with what we want?
      St. Augustine clarifies the problem of agapao in an essay called Love Never Faileth: "A temporal object is valued more before we possess it, and begins to prove worthless the moment we attain it, because it does not satisfy the soul..."
      Rather than looking to the author of real love, we have been searching and trying everything else first. Our soul can only be satisfied by knowing that this unconditional agape love of God is in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:39).
      So how can we love (agapao) the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls and minds? Only when we have seen the futility of agapaoing everything else. God sees our agapao toward anything but Him as idolatry.
      We too often fall into the category described in Ezekiel 33:31: "...they hear thy words, but they will not do them: for with their mouth they show much love, but their heart goeth after covetousness."
      To love God means to literally lose sight of yourself.
      St. Augustine again ties this together in another of his writings, the Handbook on Faith, Hope and Love:
      " ...When we ask whether someone is a good man, we are not asking what he believes, or hopes, but what he loves.... For appetite reigns where the love of God does not."
      Thanks to agape, we can agapao what is eternal. And we can finally know what love is.

Ole's morning bible study is available here.