My Road to Baptism (Part 5): Agape and Philia — Two Ways of Loving

My first lesson had begun rather unexpectedly.

The priest who taught me was the same man who, at first glance, had reminded me of my dad after working in the vegetable garden.

Casual clothes.

Sandals.

A very ordinary appearance.

But once the lesson began, I quickly discovered another side of him.

He explained the Bible while scribbling notes on whatever paper happened to be at hand.

The paper was often reused.

And his handwriting was, shall we say, not particularly elegant.

But then Latin would appear.

And sometimes Greek.

I had never seen anyone casually write Greek by hand before.

Apparently, he had also spent time at a church in Italy and was very good with languages.

The contrast between his appearance and his knowledge was rather remarkable.

No, I did not develop a fondness for the contrast.

But I was impressed.

Reading the Bible with someone else

During my first lesson, we talked about the structure of the Bible and the meaning of true peace.

If I remember correctly, we read passages from chapters 2 and 65 of Isaiah.

The priest taught mainly from the Bible, writing notes and explanations as we went along.

I still have my notebook from those days.

When I look at it now, I can see traces of those conversations everywhere.

Until then, I had mostly read biblical passages simply as they appeared on the page.

But when the priest explained the language and the background, I often found myself thinking:

“Oh… so that’s what it means.”

One passage in particular stayed with me.

Why did Jesus ask three times?

It was chapter 21 of the Gospel of John.

Jesus asks Peter:

“Simon son of John, do you love me?”

Peter answers that he does.

And yet Jesus asks again.

And then a third time.

When I first read the passage in Japanese, I felt rather sorry for Peter.

He had already answered.

Why keep asking him the same question?

To me, it almost seemed cruel.

Then the priest began writing Greek.

Agape and philia

He explained the passage to me through two Greek verbs for love.

In the first questions, Jesus uses a form of agapaō.

Peter replies with a form of phileō.

My priest explained these to me as two different ways of speaking about love.

Agape was the love of God: unconditional love that gives without asking for anything in return.

Philia was a more human love: affection, friendship and love within human relationships.

Whether every nuance of the passage can be explained by these two words alone is something biblical scholars discuss.

But for me, as a complete beginner, the priest’s explanation opened the passage in an entirely new way.

Jesus was asking Peter about agape.

Peter could only answer with philia.

Peter, who had denied Jesus

Peter had denied Jesus three times.

Knowing that, I began to hear his answers differently.

Perhaps Peter could not confidently speak of perfect, unconditional love.

He had failed.

He knew it.

And yet, he still loved Jesus.

At the third question, the Greek verb changes.

Jesus asks Peter using a form of phileō.

My priest explained it as if Jesus had come to meet Peter where he was.

Peter could not offer a grand declaration of perfect love.

But he could offer the love he had.

Perhaps that was what he was trying, with all his heart, to say:

“Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”

A passage I never forgot

If I had read that chapter alone in Japanese, I might simply have finished with the question:

“Why did Jesus ask him three times?”

But that evening, the passage became something much deeper.

I began to understand that reading the Bible was not always as simple as reading the words on the page.

There were languages behind the translation.

History.

Context.

And questions that could open into still more questions.

Of all the things I learnt during those early lessons, this is one of the memories that has stayed with me most clearly.

Perhaps that was also the evening when I began to realise that the very casually dressed priest in sandals knew rather more than I had first imagined.