Day 79

Deuteronomy 5-6 | John 11:38-57 | Psalm 34

If you had to sum up the entire law of God in one sentence, how would you do it?

When asked about the greatest commandment, Jesus pointed to these words from Deuteronomy:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.” (Deuteronomy 6:5)

The greatest commandment. The foundation of everything.

And yet, how often do we treat it like just another rule on the list?

Because if we’re honest, we tend to focus more on behavior than affection. More on action than devotion. More on doing things for God than actually loving Him.

But here’s the thing—this command isn’t about adding another religious duty. It’s about anchoring everything in the only thing that matters.

The Shema: More Than a Prayer

Deuteronomy 6 contains one of the most significant passages in all of Scripture. It’s called the Shema, named after the first Hebrew word in verse 4:

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” (Deuteronomy 6:4)

For centuries, devout Jews have recited these words daily—morning and night. Not as a ritual, but as a declaration. A reminder.

Because this isn’t just a theological statement. It’s an invitation.

God doesn’t just want obedience.

He wants love.

Not just our Sunday mornings.

Not just our religious checklists.

Not just the parts of our lives we’re comfortable surrendering.

He wants all of us—heart, soul, might.

Because He knows that the greatest threat to our faith isn’t outright rebellion. It’s drifting.

The Enemy’s Greatest Strategy

R. Kent Hughes said it well in Disciplines of a Godly Man:

“The greatest threat to the church is not a hatred of God but forgetfulness of Him.”

That’s the real danger.

Not that we suddenly abandon God.

Not that we declare we don’t believe.

But that, little by little, we let our love for Him fade into the background—drowned out by work deadlines, parenting demands, house projects, or the endless scroll of distractions—until we go a whole day without actually thinking about Him.

That’s why immediately after commanding His people to love Him, God gives this warning:

“Then take care lest you forget the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” (Deuteronomy 6:12)

Forget God?

How could Israel forget the One who split the sea? Who fed them in the wilderness? Who led them by fire and cloud?

The same way we do.

By becoming too comfortable.

By letting the urgent drown out the important.

By treating our faith as just one piece of life instead of the thing that is life.

Israel’s greatest threat wasn’t external enemies. It wasn’t hardship.

It was prosperity.

Soon, they would enter the Promised Land. Their stomachs would be full. Their homes would be built. Their need for God would no longer feel urgent. And when comfort begins to replace dependence, it would be easy to drift.

To grow complacent.

To forget.

And isn’t that exactly what happens to us?

We cry out to God when we’re in trouble, but when things are good, we live like we don’t need Him.

We seek Him when we’re desperate, but once we feel secure, we shift our focus elsewhere.

And before we know it, He’s no longer first.

When Love Is Replaced by Fear

That’s what happened to the Pharisees in John 11.

They saw Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead.

They witnessed the greatest sign of His power so far—a man four days in the grave, called out by the voice of the Son of God.

And their reaction?

Not belief. Not worship. Not love.

“If we let Him go on like this, everyone will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.” (John 11:48)

They weren’t motivated by love for God.

They were motivated by fear of losing control.

Their status mattered more than their Savior.

Their security mattered more than their faith.

Their power mattered more than their Messiah.

And so, instead of bowing before Jesus, they plotted to kill Him.

Because when love for God fades, something else always takes its place.

What Holds It All Together

That’s why this command is so central.

Loving God isn’t just part of the Christian life—it’s what keeps us grounded in the One who first loved us.

It’s the foundation that makes obedience a delight instead of a duty.

It’s the motivation that fuels worship, prayer, and faithfulness.

It’s the only thing that can keep us from drifting when life gets comfortable.

Jesus echoed these words again in the Gospel of John:

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (John 14:15)

Obedience flows from love. Not obligation. Not fear. Not guilt.

Love.

And if the Pharisees—who knew Scripture better than anyone—could miss the whole point, how much more do we need to guard our own hearts?

Because if I lose sight of Him—if I let my love drift—everything else unravels. But when I love Him first, everything else falls into place.

Lord, I don’t want to forget You. I don’t want to let my love grow cold. Help me love You with all my heart, all my soul, all my might—because You are worthy of nothing less. Amen.