By Chris Richards
Founder, Antiha.org
Published: April 9, 2026
Core Tenets Series

You walk through the door after a ten-hour shift, shoulders heavy with the weight of decisions and deadlines. You’ve spent your energy caring for others, and all you want is for your spouse or partner to see that effort. Instead, the first thing you hear is a sharp critique about a chore left undone or a bill forgotten. In that split second, something inside you shifts. Your chest tightens, your jaw locks, and a cold wall begins to rise. The instinct isn’t to lean in; it’s to withdraw, to harden, and to prepare a verbal counter-strike that reminds them of exactly where they’ve failed today, too.
This is the crossroads of the human heart. We like to think we are experts in love, especially when things are going well. But when the person closest to us becomes the source of our frustration, we find that our "love" is often a fragile, transactional thing that shatters the moment we feel unseen or disrespected. Have we fundamentally misunderstood the very concept we claim to build our lives upon? If our love only lasts until it is challenged, was it ever love to begin with?
Radical Love is the standard Jesus set—a love that is neither emotional nor transactional. It is a deliberate, costly, and chosen movement of the heart that refuses to be dictated by the behavior of others.
Why is it that our modern definition of love feels so exhausted? In our current cultural landscape, love has been largely reduced to a mixture of agreement, affirmation, and tribal loyalty. We are told that to love someone is to never disagree with them, or that love is something we "fall into" and "fall out of" based on how a person makes us feel. It’s a love built on the shifting sands of emotion and social alignment.
When love is tied to agreement, it quickly becomes a tool for exclusion. If you don't affirm my lifestyle, my politics, or my worldview, you are labeled an "enemy," and the love is withdrawn. This is why our society is currently drowning in outrage culture. We have been trained to see people as labels first and image-bearers second. This transactional love is cheap, easy, and ultimately destructive. It demands nothing from us but our compliance, and it leaves us hollow when the people around us inevitably fail to meet our expectations.
When Jesus of Nazareth spoke about love, He didn’t use the language of feelings or fleeting romance. While the Greek language offers multiple words for love—such as philia for friendship or eros for romantic desire—the New Testament writers intentionally emphasized Agapē (ἀγάπη) to describe the love of God. This isn't a love that happens to you; it’s a love you decide to do. It is a committed, costly, and sacrificial act of the will that seeks the highest good of another person, regardless of whether they deserve it or how they treat you.

The term Agapē (ἀγάπη) is best understood not as a sentiment, but as a field order. It is an active decision to remain connected and kind when every instinct tells you to run or retaliate. If we want to understand what this looks like in the real world, we have to look at the standard Jesus set. In His most famous teachings, He dismantled the idea that love is reserved for those who love us back.
“But I say to you who hear: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who spitefully use you.” (Luke 6:27–28, WEBUS)
This love is not a passive sentiment; it is an active movement outward that does good, blesses, and prays even in the face of hostility.
Jesus wasn’t speaking in metaphors. He was addressing people living under the thumb of a brutal Roman occupation. He was telling them to love the very soldiers who could legally force them to carry gear for a mile. He was calling for a radical, disruptive kindness that exposes the emptiness of hate. This is the core of our pledge program: a commitment to being a peacemaker even when the cost is high.
Does it feel unnatural to love an enemy? Of course it does. Our biology is wired for "eye for an eye" justice. When we are hurt, our pride demands a settlement. We want the other person to feel the weight of what they’ve done. Radical love feels like losing. It feels like weakness. But Jesus argues that this is actually the only way to break the cycle of dehumanization.
Transactional love is like a simple instrument that can only play a basic tune; it works when life is easy but fails when things get difficult. Agapē (ἀγάπη) is more like a master’s violin. It requires immense discipline and sacrifice, but it is the only way to produce true harmony in a broken world.
“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same.” (Luke 6:32–33, ASV)
We must be clear: Radical love is not approval of sin. It is not silence in the face of injustice. It is not weakness, and it is not compromise. Rather, it is the refusal to allow the hate of another person to dictate your own character. It is the decision to see the person in front of you—the angry neighbor, the dismissive spouse, the political opponent—as a fellow human being made in the image of God.
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34–35, KJV)
How did He love us? He didn't wait for us to get our act together. He didn't wait for us to apologize. He moved toward us while we were still His enemies. This is the standard of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25–37, where love crosses ethnic, religious, and social boundaries to meet a physical need. It is a love that gets its hands dirty.
If you want to know what Radical Love looks like when it is pushed to the absolute limit, you look at the Cross. As Jesus was being executed by the very people He came to save, His response wasn't a curse or a call for vengeance.
“And Jesus said, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34, ASV)
In the Aramaic language Jesus likely spoke, a related concept carries the sense of "releasing" or "letting go of a debt." On the cross, Jesus was releasing the debt of His murderers, choosing to absorb the cost of their hate so it would not be passed on. This is the heartbeat of Antiha. We are witnesses to a Man who died loving His enemies, and He tells us to follow Him.

So, how do we practically live this out in 2026? It starts in the small, unglamorous moments of our daily lives.
This practice begins with the restraint of the tongue—choosing to bite your tongue and refuse retaliation when you are insulted. It continues by humanizing the other, reminding yourself that even the person behind an inflammatory post online is a real individual with a real story. Finally, it manifests in active service, where you find tangible ways to meet the needs of those you might naturally dislike.
Radical love is about moving from the digital outrage of our screens to the physical presence of our neighbors. It is about choosing peace over being right. It is about recognizing that the "enemy" is someone for whom Christ also died.
Who is the person you currently find impossible to love? Whose name makes you tense up? Where have you withdrawn your heart because it felt safer to be cold than to be vulnerable? The call of Jesus isn't to wait for them to change, but for you to move first. Radical love is not optional for the follower of Jesus; it is the very thing that defines us.
It is the light that pierces the darkness of our divided age. It is the only way forward, because it is the way of Jesus.
It Starts With Me. Not Left. Not Right. Anti-Hate.