Love Versus Like

I heard it for years. Said to me. Said around me. Said by people I loved and respected. And every single time, it confused me.

"I love you. I just don't like you right now."

For the longest time, I couldn't reconcile it. How can you love someone and not like them at the same time? Isn't love supposed to include liking? If you don't like someone — even temporarily — does that mean your love for them is fake? Incomplete? Hypocritical?

These are not abstract questions. They show up in real life — in marriages where one spouse is being difficult, in parent-child relationships strained to the breaking point, in friendships where trust has been fractured, in workplaces with difficult colleagues, in churches with people who get on your last nerve.

If love and like are the same thing, then every time someone irritates you, disappoints you, hurts you, or just rubs you the wrong way — your love is in jeopardy. And that cannot be what God intended, because He commands us to love people who are objectively hard to like.

So I went digging. And what I found in the Greek — in the actual language of the New Testament — changed everything for me.

English has one word for love. We use it for everything: I love God. I love my husband. I love pizza. I love that song. One word, stretched so thin it barely means anything. But Greek — the language of the New Testament — does not have that problem. Greek has multiple words for love, and two of them are critical to understanding what's going on here.

Here is the breakthrough: God commands agape. God never commands phileo.

Go search the Scriptures. You will find "love your neighbor," "love your enemy," "love one another," "husbands, love your wives" — every single one of those is agape. Commanded. Required. Non-negotiable.

But nowhere — not once — does God command you to like someone. He never says "enjoy your enemy's company." He never says "feel warm and fuzzy toward the person who betrayed you." He never says "have natural affection for the person who is making your life difficult right now."

God knows the difference between a decision and a feeling. And He only commands the decision.

1 Corinthians 13: The Love Chapter Is All Verbs

This is where it gets even clearer. 1 Corinthians 13 — the most famous chapter on love in the entire Bible — defines love entirely in verbs. Behaviors. Actions. Things you do, not things you feel.

Every single one of those is something you do. Not something you feel. Patience is a choice. Kindness is a choice. Not keeping a record of wrongs is a choice. Protecting, trusting, hoping, persevering — all choices. All verbs. All agape.

Paul does not say "love feels warm." He does not say "love enjoys this person's company." He does not say "love finds them delightful." Because those are phileo — and phileo is not commanded.

What the Scriptures Actually Command

Understanding the difference between agape and phileo is not just an academic exercise. It has real, practical, everyday implications for how you treat people. Here is the path Scripture lays out.

1. Tell Yourself the Truth

The first step is honesty — with yourself and with God. You are allowed to say, "I don't like this person right now." You are allowed to bring that to God in prayer. David did it constantly in the Psalms — raw, unfiltered honesty about how he felt. Pretending you like someone when you don't is not holiness; it's denial. And denial festers. Tell yourself the truth: I am struggling to like this person right now, and that does not make me a fake Christian. It makes me a human being who still has to choose to love.

2. Do Love on Purpose

Since agape is action, you don't wait for the feeling. You act. You are patient with them even when your patience is thin. You are kind even when you'd rather be short. You don't bring up their past failures in an argument. You pray for them — not "God, fix them," but "God, bless them." You protect their reputation even when it would be satisfying to let that one story slip. You do the verbs.

3. Don't Treat Them Like a Stranger — And Don't Treat Them Like an Enemy

The opposite of love is not dislike. The opposite of love is indifference and cruelty. You can not like someone and still not treat them like they don't exist. You can struggle to enjoy someone and still not treat them as an enemy. Romans 12:20 says, "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink." If God requires that for enemies, how much more for the difficult person in your family, your church, your workplace?

James 3:9-10 is especially sharp here: "With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be."

4. Distance Is Allowed — Contempt Is Not

This is one of the most freeing truths in this entire teaching. You are allowed to create space. You are allowed to set boundaries. You are allowed to limit your exposure to someone who drains you, hurts you, or consistently brings out the worst in you.

Scripture shows this clearly. In Acts 15:36-40, Paul and Barnabas had such a sharp disagreement about John Mark that they parted ways. Two godly men. Two apostles. Couldn't work together anymore. They separated — and the gospel still went forward. Distance is not sin. Protecting your peace is not a failure to love. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is create enough space that you can interact without contempt.

But here is the line: distance can be wise, but contempt is never permitted. You can step back. You cannot despise. You can limit contact. You cannot harbor bitterness. You can protect your peace. You cannot curse them in your heart.

5. Give Yourself Grace

You are not failing because you don't like someone. You are not less spiritual because you struggle with a relationship. Even Jesus — fully God and fully man — had people He corrected sharply, people He called out publicly, people He overturned tables on. And He also had people He was closer to than others. John is described as "the disciple whom Jesus loved" — not because Jesus didn't love the others, but because that relationship had a particular affection. Phileo. Jesus modeled both.

And John 7:5 tells us that even Jesus' own brothers didn't believe in Him. Imagine the Son of God, living in a household with siblings who thought He was wrong about who He was. If anyone understands loving family members who are difficult, who don't believe, who don't support you — it's Jesus.