Easter 5C (Confirmation Sunday) 2025

Text: “34 A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” (John 13:34).

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Today, as a congregation, you witness something deeply significant. These two young women will stand before the altar of God and confess the faith into which they were baptized. They will vow to remain faithful—to Christ and His Word, even unto death. This is not a passage into something new. This is a confession of what has already been given.

And this day is not for them alone.

A few minutes ago, you heard, once again, the command of Christ to love one another as He has loved you. That command is not addressed only to the confirmands. Whether you were confirmed 60 years ago or 6 years ago, whether you remember that day clearly or barely at all, the love of Christ has not dimmed. His command has not faded. His calling has not lifted from your shoulders.

All of you—young and old, newly confirmed and long confirmed—have been brought into the same love. All of you have been called by the same Name. All of you have received the same Lord Jesus Christ, who now says to you: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you.”

We will begin there—with His command. And we will end there—with His love.

I. “Love One Another"—Not Optional, but Commanded

Jesus says, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another.” That sounds gentle enough—until you realize what He is commanding.

In one sense, it is not a new command. The Law has always said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Love has always been required. What is new is the standard. “Just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” No longer is your own love for yourself the standard. Now the standard is Christ’s love for you. And that new standard changes everything.

We focus a lot on how really bad we are at loving others. But you and I also need to face the reality that you are not particularly good at loving yourself, either. The command seems simple enough: love others as you love yourself. But what does your love for yourself look like, in practice? It is shallow and fragile. It is inconsistent. It is conditional. It is selfish.

And the truth is, when self-love is the benchmark, you will always find a way to let yourself off the hook. You love others as long as they are reasonable. As long as they are lovable. As long as they fit into the limits of what you already find acceptable.

But when Jesus says, “As I have loved you,” He takes the measure of love out of your hands and puts it into His.

Now the standard is not your capacity. The standard is His sacrifice. Now the comparison is not your feelings—but His cross. Now the question is not “Am I loving enough?” but “Have I loved as He has loved me?”

And that is why this new commandment is devastating. Because it shows how far short your love falls. Look at how you treat your neighbors in the pews beside you. Look at how you speak—even about fellow Christians!—when they are not in the room. Look at how your heart grows cold, how your patience wears thin, how your kindness retreats when it is no longer convenient. Measure that against the love of Christ, and you will see how far off the mark you truly are.

The new commandment is not less demanding than the old. It is more. Because Christ’s love is more.

Thankfully, this is not a burden you must carry alone.

II. You Have Not Loved—But You Have Been Loved

Jesus does not just raise the standard. He is the standard. “As I have loved you,” He says. And that is not a theoretical love. It is a costly love. It is not cautious. It is not calculating. It is not safe.

Jesus gave this new commandment on the night He is betrayed. His body will be broken within hours. His blood poured out by morning. And still He says it: “As I have loved you.”

Earlier in John 13, John introduces everything that is coming on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in a way that is beautifully profound. “Having loved His own,” John writes about Jesus, “He loved them to the end” (John 13:1). Jesus knows what is coming, and He does not flinch. He knows the disciples will fail Him—Peter will deny, the rest will scatter, Judas will betray—and He loves them anyway. He bends down and washes their feet. He gives them His body and blood. He intercedes for them in prayer. And then He walks straight into the hands of those who hate Him.

That is how He has loved you. He has loved you in your failure. He has loved you in your wandering. He has loved you when your love for others ran dry. He has loved you when you returned again to the very sins you had promised to leave behind.

He did not wait for your repentance to begin loving you. His love came first. “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).

And that love is not just a memory—it is a gift still given. It is what brought you to the font. It is what clothed you with Christ in Baptism. It is what speaks in the Word and what feeds you at this altar.

It is the love that called two young women to this day of confirmation—not because they have finished anything, but because Christ has begun something in them that He will bring to completion.

And it is the same love that called you. Whether you were confirmed in a small country church or in a city sanctuary, whether you knelt at the rail decades ago or just a few years past, the love of Christ that was spoken over you then is still speaking now.

You have not loved as He commanded. But you have been loved as He promised.

And that love is not just something for you to remember. It is something for you to confess.

III. Confirmation Is a Public Confession of What All Christians Share

Confirmation is a confession.

It is a public, spoken confession of what was already given in Baptism. It is the “Amen” to what God has been saying to these young women since the day they were washed in water and the Word: “You are Mine.” It is their opportunity to say what the whole Church has been saying all along—what you are called to say with them and for them and beside them: “I believe in God, the Father Almighty… I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord… I believe in the Holy Spirit…”

The words they speak today are not theirs alone. They are your words. They are the Church’s words. And they are grounded in something far older and far stronger than personal conviction. They are grounded in Christ’s love. “As I have loved you,” He says—and that love now becomes the basis for everything they, and you, are called to believe, to do, and to confess.

When these young women promise to remain faithful “even unto death,” they are not boasting in their strength. They are trusting in His. They are not making themselves worthy. They are confessing the One who is worthy. And they do not stand alone.

You stand with them. Because this faith is not theirs only—it is yours. This confession is not theirs only—it is yours. This calling to love as Christ has loved is not theirs only—it is yours.

They are joining you, today, in the Church’s life of daily repentance, daily trust, and daily love—all rooted in the crucified and risen Christ.

IV. So Go—Love One Another as You Have Been Loved

Now the command returns. Not to condemn you, but to send you.

“Just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” It is no longer a burden you must carry. It is a gift you now live. Christ does not simply demand something that, frankly, you cannot do—He gives what He commands.

Let His command shape your love for yourself and your love for others.

This gift is not just something to share with others—it is something to give, first, to yourself.

Your love for yourself is inconsistent. It is conditional. It is self-serving. But Christ has given you something entirely different. He has given you a love that does not begin with your performance or depend on your potential. He has given you a love that is measured by His cross. And now He invites you to apply that love inwardly—not as flattery, not as indulgence, but as faith.

You cannot love others well if you believe that you are worthless. You cannot pour out mercy if you think you deserve none. You cannot walk in peace if you are still trying to earn your place in Christ’s heart. So hear this clearly: Christ’s love for you is not reluctant. It is not partial. It is not conditional. It is whole. It is undeserved. It is yours.

He does not love you because you are lovable. He loves you to make you His. And that love gives you permission to stop measuring yourself by your own broken standards. To stop speaking to yourself with cruelty. To stop treating your own soul with contempt. You are not the sum of your failures. You are not the worst thing you have done. You are not what others have said about you.

You are the one for whom Christ died. The one He named in Baptism. The one He feeds at this altar. The one He will raise on the Last Day.

Learning to love yourself does not mean indulging yourself or excusing sin. It means learning to see yourself as He sees you: clothed in His righteousness, redeemed by His blood, precious in His sight. And when you receive that love—when you actually believe it—you are free to love others without fear, without pride, and without limit.

Loving yourself does not begin by looking inward. It begins by looking to Christ. He is your worth. He is your identity. He is your peace. The more clearly you see His love for you, the more clearly you will see yourself as one who has been loved with an everlasting love. No, you will not always like what you see in yourself—but His love for you means that He will never turn away. It means He has claimed you, and He does not regret it.

So when you speak to yourself in your thoughts, let His voice interrupt yours. When the inner critic tells you that you are not enough, let the voice of Christ answer: “You are Mine.” When your failures whisper shame, let His Word speak louder: “It is finished.” When you are tempted to define yourself by your sin, remember that your sin has been nailed to the cross. You are not defined by your wounds. You are defined by His.

And that, too, is love.

You are not called to love yourself in order to become lovable. You are called to love yourself because Christ already has.

He gives you His love, and then He says, “Go. Give this love to others.”

So come and confess your Savior. Receive His gifts again today, and give your “Amen” to all that He has done for you.

Then go. Love one another—not to earn His love, but because you already have it. Love one another—not with your strength, but with His. Love one another—as He has loved you.

You are not sent out today to invent something new, but to continue in what Christ has already begun.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.