Joined at the heart — loving God by loving others!

Matthew 22:37-40  Jesus said to him, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. 38  This is the first and great commandment. 39  And the second like to it, You shall love your neighbor as yourself. 40  On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.

Many of us can recite Yeshua’s (Jesus’) words about the two greatest commandments—loving God and loving our neighbor—but we often miss how deeply intertwined they are. We treat them like separate tasks: one for God, one for people. But in Greek, Yeshua uses the phrase homoia aute, which means “like to it.” The second commandment isn’t just next in line—it shares the same nature. This small detail radically changes how we understand the passage: loving others is essential to loving God.

To love God with all your heart, soul, and strength is also to love your neighbor. The two are inseparable. If we claim to adore God but harbor bitterness or indifference toward those around us, we aren’t fulfilling the first commandment at all. As John said, “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ yet hates his brother, he is a liar” (1 John 4:20).

Every act of kindness, patience, or selfless love toward others reflects our love for God. Each interaction becomes a sacred chance to live out His heart. When we serve instead of demand, forgive instead of retaliate, and bless instead of curse, we’re not just doing good—we’re mirroring the character of our God.

Yeshua didn’t give us abstract ideals; He gave us a way to live. His commandments are not just rules, but daily invitations to shift our hearts from selfishness to love.

As we consistently walk in His ways, loving others becomes second nature because our love for God becomes alive and genuine. These two commands were never meant to stand apart—they are joined by design, each strengthening the other and drawing us deeper into relationship with Him.

This is the heartbeat of the Kingdom: love that flows upward in worship to God and outward in love, mercy, and grace toward people. It’s not a love that stays in the pews or within the pages of Scripture—it moves, it serves, and it sacrifices. And as we walk this path daily, that love begins to shape us. Slowly, we reflect the heart of the One who loved us first, whose life was the perfect picture of love in action. In following Yeshua, love becomes more than an idea—it becomes our way of life.

Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.

More Devotions

Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.

The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.

When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.

We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”

When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.

For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.

God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.