Commanded Love ...?

Dear one,
 
With genuine discomfort, upon numerous occasions, I have found myself stumbling over Jesus’ seemingly very simple and direct words: 
“A new command I give you, in order that you love one another—just as I loved you, in order that you might love one another” (John 13:34).
 
The context of this new command was the upper room: knowing that His crucifixion lay before Him, recognizing that not one of His disciples would willingly perform the duty of a slave, Jesus did what they would not. He washed their feet. Peter, appalled, recognizing the topsy-turvy nature of Jesus’ action, reacted: 
            “Never! will you wash my feet! Never!” (13:8). 
 
However, he quickly recanted, and permitted Jesus to wash his feet (13:9-10). Jesus then used the washing of all His disciples’ feet as an object lesson: “If I, as Lord and Teacher, wash your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s’ feet” (13:14).
 
Although His word is clear and direct, I falter: “Can love be commanded? That is, is love yet another ‘ought,’ another duty to be performed?” Admittedly, to these questions you might immediately reply: “Apparently Jesus thought so.” If such is your response, I fully agree; but then, if I agree, I am now defining love as an action, rather than as a feeling. However, if love is an action, I nonetheless know myself too well: sometimes my “good deeds” are wrongly motivated. Sometimes self-interest prompts me to do the good I might not otherwise do.  
 
Ah, but with this admission, I believe that the heart of Jesus’ love—its motivation—arises. The one who is loved is to benefit, and only secondarily, if at all, does the one who actively loves benefit. That is, I love—a deed in action—in order that the other might benefit from my action. As such, I seek neither a “good feeling” nor the appearance of a deed well done—even within the eyes of God. Rather, if I am to obey Jesus’ command to love, I will discover that I am not the beneficiary. No, it’s all about the beloved; and herein, I believe, lies the great stumbling block to the Christian faith: to love selflessly through overt, demonstrable action. 
 
His disciples benefited by His washing their feet: a prelude to His hanging upon a cross.
 
These days of covid19, racial unrest, and presidential wrangling afford us great opportunity to love. And when we stumble, not if, they afford the opportunity to cry out: “Lord, help me to do what I would not do.”
 
Praying,
            Stan