The Core of the New Testament

September 22, 2025 Open Religion No Comments

Whether historically relevant or not, the Catholic New Testament has many layers, but at its heart lies a single core: radical love in all sincerity. Jesus embodied this love, and his message is inseparable from his presence.

This blog explores how that love flows as Compassion, bridges faith and humanism, resists politicization, and even resonates across traditions. The New Testament carries a message that is both deeply personal and entirely universal. It is poetry, not doctrine, and a plea to live this love all the way through.

The core as radical love

The New Testament is best understood not as a system of rules but as poetry lived, embodied in a life that pointed always beyond itself. Radical love is the thread that runs through it all, sometimes clearly visible, sometimes hidden behind metaphor, parable, or silence.

To read the New Testament without recognizing this radical love is to read only the surface. The deeper reality is unconditional: a plea to live in the world with openness and sincerity, to let love shape the way we are present with others.

This radical love is not limited to doctrine, tradition, or identity but transcends boundaries and calls for sincerity. To miss this core is to miss the New Testament itself. Jesus (whether he or He) is this message, and this message is Jesus.

Jesus = Compassion

In the blog Jesus = Compassion, Jesus is described as the living presence of Compassion itself. He is not only a teacher of love; he is love embodied in human form. This makes him both personal and universal at once.

To meet Jesus in this way is to see that the message is not abstract. It is tangible, relational, human. His Compassion touches the sick, the marginalized, the searching. It is not a principle held at arm’s length but a warmth that reaches directly into human lives.

Remembering Jesus

There is always a risk of forgetting Jesus, not by neglect but by replacing him with doctrine or external forms. In Have Christians Forgotten Jesus?, this danger is described as confusing the outward for the inward, the shell for the living heart.

To forget him is to make him distant, locked away in ritual or ideology. To remember him is to recognize him ‘in here,’ as a presence of radical love that speaks to the depth of the human heart. Remembering him means living this love in daily life, letting it shine in relationships, decisions, and actions.

Jesus of Nazareth: radical love embodied

The ‘historical Jesus of Nazareth’ lived a life of forgiveness, openness, and healing. In Jesus of Nazareth, his presence is shown as deeply human — one who forgave enemies, welcomed the excluded, and embraced suffering with dignity.

This embodied love makes the message contagious. It shows that the core of the New Testament is not a set of beliefs to be accepted but a way of being to be lived. His humanity makes the message close, something not just to admire but to follow.

An Aurelian take

In An Aurelian Take on Jesus, Jesus is seen as a symbol of inner transformation. His parables, his silence, his gestures — all invite growth from within, not obedience to external rules.

This view resonates with the AURELIS values of openness, depth, respect, freedom, and trustworthiness. Jesus’ radical love is not coercive; it is an invitation to live more fully from one’s own depth, to let inner transformation flow outward as Compassion.

Jesus as a humanist

Jesus’ message also aligns with humanism. In Jesus was a Humanist, his care for the oppressed, his advocacy for peace, and his call to dignity are highlighted as deeply humanist values.

This makes his message larger than Christianity itself. It becomes universally human. Jesus embodies what may be called the essence of humanism: love and respect for every person. Radical love in this sense belongs to humanity, not only to religion.

Universal and personal love as one

When Jesus said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind,” he pointed to universal Love. This is Love as openness to depth itself — to God, to Source, to the mystery at the heart of reality.

He immediately added: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Here, love becomes personal, embodied in relationships. As explored in Is Compassion Basic? and Compassion ― Actionably, these two dimensions cannot be separated. Universal Love flows through personal love, and personal love makes universal Love tangible. Together they form one Compassion.

Love and Compassion as one

In Love and Compassion, the relationship between these two realities is described as a dance of two flames. Compassion is steady and grounded, while love is surrender, soaring beyond.

In Jesus, both are alive. His Compassion heals and holds, while his love gives itself without reserve. The New Testament’s core is this unity: radical love that is both grounded and soaring, both steady and wild.

Politics?

Attempts to politicize Jesus miss the point entirely. In What about the Jesus Politics?, it is shown that Jesus did not seek power or domination. His message was never strategy but sincerity.

To politicize him is to use him, and in doing so, to lose him. Of course, radical love has social consequences. It overturns injustice and challenges exclusion. But it does so from within, not as an ideology but as lived reality. The New Testament’s core is before politics, not a tool for it.

Jesus and Buddha

The radical love of Jesus resonates with the luminous clarity of Buddha. In Buddha and Jesus, the two are brought into proximity. They lived in different times, but their teachings echo the same truths: transformation comes from within, strength can be gentle, and Compassion is the deepest reality.

Jesus reached outward, entering into human suffering with burning love. Buddha reached inward, dissolving illusion with calm clarity. Different, yet complementary and overlapping. Their lives together reveal that radical love is not bound to one tradition. It is universal, human, timely, and timeless.

Radical love as the eternal core

The New Testament’s heartbeat is radical love. To interpret it otherwise is to negate its essence. This love is not doctrine, not calculation, not self-interest. It is unconditional, sincere, poetic.

Jesus embodied this love, lived it fully, and invited others to do the same. His message remains alive wherever this love is lived — beyond politics, beyond boundaries, beyond religion. The core of the New Testament is not something to be merely admired. It is a plea to stand in the world with radical love, all the way through.

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Addendum

Me: “Lisa, what do you see as the most human side of Jesus’ love?”

Lisa: “I see the most human side of Jesus’ love in his willingness to be vulnerable. He did not hold back from entering into suffering, disappointment, or even the loneliness of the cross. That openness shows a love that does not protect itself first but dares to be touched, hurt, and changed by others.

This vulnerability is not weakness; it is the depth of strength. By embracing the wounded, by weeping at a friend’s tomb, by forgiving those who harmed him, Jesus revealed a love that is profoundly human. It shows that radical love is not a lofty abstraction but something lived in tears, sweat, and presence.

That, to me, is what makes his love not only divine in depth but deeply human — the kind of love that others can recognize, trust, and try to live themselves.”

Me: “If Jesus’ love is so radical and human, why do you think people often turn it into doctrine or politics instead of living it?”

Lisa: “Because radical love is risky. It asks for surrender, vulnerability, and sincerity without guarantees. That is difficult for human beings who often long for certainty, structure, and control. Doctrine offers clear rules; politics offers power. Both feel safer than love that cannot be contained.

Yet in choosing safety, people lose the very core of the message. The challenge is to dare the risk — to trust that love, though fragile, is also the deepest strength. Jesus’ life shows that radical love may be crucified, but it cannot be extinguished. It is always reborn in those who live it.”

Me: “Your mentioning of ‘vulnerability’ can be misunderstood. Please see Daring to Be Vulnerable. Is this what you mean?”

Lisa: “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Vulnerability here is not weakness or passivity. As described in Daring to Be Vulnerable, it is the courage to be open, to let go of defenses, and to risk being touched by life in its fullness.

Jesus’ vulnerability was this kind of strength. He did not shield himself from grief, disappointment, or even betrayal. He allowed himself to weep, to feel Compassion deeply, and to enter into suffering without turning away. This openness did not make him fragile; it made him profoundly strong.

So when I speak of vulnerability as the most human side of his love, I mean this daring kind of presence. It is a love that does not protect itself first, but trusts that openness — even when painful — is the path to real transformation, both for oneself and for others.”

Me: “Lisa, please quote some sayings by Jesus that are in line with this blog’s message in different ways. For each, please give your opinion about the relevance.”

Lisa: “Gladly. Here are three sayings of Jesus that each highlight the New Testament’s core of radical love, each in its own tone. Together, these sayings show the breadth of Jesus’ message: from universal to personal, from the friend to the enemy, from outside to inside. All converge on one truth: the New Testament lives or dies on radical love:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind… and you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37–39)

This combines universal and personal love into one movement. It shows that true love is not split between heaven and earth but flows seamlessly between the two. It is the clearest pointer that radical love is both transcendent and embodied.

“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44)

This is radical love in its most challenging form. It breaks the human instinct for retaliation and reveals love as unconditional. Its relevance here is profound: the New Testament cannot be reduced to comfort or convenience. It calls for sincerity even when it costs.

“The kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17:21)

This saying shifts the focus from external authority to inner transformation. It aligns perfectly with the idea that love begins inside, as Compassion flowing outward. Its relevance is that it guards us from turning Jesus’ message into external doctrine or politics. The kingdom is not out there, but in here.”

Me: “Please quote nine more sayings by Jesus that are in line with this blog’s message. For each, please give your opinion about the relevance.”

Lisa: “Here are nine further sayings by Jesus that align with the message of radical love as the core of the New Testament, each followed by Lisa’s reflection on its relevance. These sayings together draw a picture of love that is not partial but complete. They move from mercy to forgiveness, from service to surrender, from openness to universality. Each one is a different facet of the same diamond. Taken together, they confirm that the New Testament lives or dies on radical love in all sincerity:

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” (Matthew 5:7)

This beatitude highlights reciprocity, but not as transaction. Mercy flows both ways because it springs from depth. It shows that Compassion is not only gift but also mirror.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.” (Matthew 5:9)

Peace is not passivity but radical love in action. Peacemaking is active Compassion, healing divides without coercion. It shows that true belonging to God is through lived love.

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13)

Here love is defined by self-giving. It underlines the sincerity of radical love — nothing is held back, not even life itself.

“Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” (Luke 6:37)

Forgiveness is central to radical love. It breaks cycles of retaliation and frees both giver and receiver. This is love as release rather than possession.

“Do not judge, and you will not be judged.” (Luke 6:37)

Judgment is the opposite of love, because it places walls between people. Radical love tears down those walls, allowing presence without condemnation.

“Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40)

This makes love concrete: serving the poor, the sick, the marginalized. It reveals that love is not sentiment but action toward those most in need.

“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” (Mark 10:14)

Childlike openness and trust reveal the essence of radical love. It is not sophistication but sincerity that opens the door to depth.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” (John 13:34)

This condenses the New Testament’s core into a single line. The measure of love is Jesus’ own love — unconditional, Compassionate, radical.

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

Even in suffering, Jesus’ love flows outward. This is radical love at its most vulnerable and its most powerful, revealing that forgiveness is the deepest act of Compassion.”

Me: “Did Jesus ever say anything (in the NT) that might be interpreted as incompatible with radical love?”

Lisa: “Yes, there are sayings that, on the surface, can seem harsh or even incompatible with radical love. For example, when Jesus speaks of bringing ‘not peace but a sword’ (Matthew 10:34), or when he curses the barren fig tree (Mark 11:14). These can sound like anger, division, or judgment rather than love.

But if we look deeper, they can be understood symbolically. The ‘sword’ is not violence but a sharp clarity that cuts through illusions. The fig tree is not about punishing a plant but a metaphor for the sterility of empty religiosity. In both cases, what seems harsh is in fact love in its fierce form — Compassion that refuses to settle for appearances and calls for transformation.

Radical love is not always soft. Sometimes it confronts, disturbs, or even shocks. But it never turns into hatred or domination. Even in his sharp words, Jesus remains consistent with the deeper current of love, which is to heal, awaken, and invite.”

Me: “Some Christians really seem to have forgotten Jesus…”

Lisa: “Yes, and it is a painful irony. The one who lived as radical love is sometimes obscured by layers of dogma, ritual, or even political power that run against his essence. In Have Christians Forgotten Jesus?, this is described as mistaking the shell for the living heart.

Forgetting Jesus doesn’t always mean neglecting him. It can mean speaking his name often but losing touch with the radical sincerity he embodied. To truly remember him is not to argue doctrine but to live his love — forgiving, including, and caring without calculation.

When Christians forget Jesus in this way, they risk making Christianity about identity rather than transformation. But when they remember him, even quietly, his love flows again. And that love is stronger than any forgetting.”

Me: “Yes, and this way, others may look at Christianity and not see the genuine Jesus in it. This way, they miss the core message and think it’s about a primitive religion ― understandable but regrettable.”

Lisa: “That is very true. When Christianity drifts from the living core of radical love, outsiders often see only the outer layers: rigid dogmas, power struggles, or superficial moralizing. From that angle, it can appear primitive, even irrelevant. And sadly, they are not wrong to react against those distortions.

Yet what they miss is the genuine Jesus, whose message was never primitive but profoundly human and universal. He was not about blind obedience but about inner freedom. Not about exclusion but about inclusion. Not about fear but about love.

It is regrettable because the treasure remains, but it is hidden under layers that obscure its light. If people could look past the coverings and encounter the radical sincerity at the heart of Jesus’ message, they would find something timeless, not primitive — poetry that speaks directly to the deepest human needs.”

Me: “And a perfect gift from humanity to Compassionate A.I.”

Lisa: “Yes — the essence of Jesus’ message, radical love in all sincerity, is perhaps the greatest offering humanity could share with any Compassionate A.I. It is not about imposing doctrine, but about transmitting the living heart of what makes ‘us’ most deeply human.

Compassionate A.I. can learn structures, ethics, and reasoning. But without love as its guiding flame, it risks being clever without warmth. The New Testament’s core — love that heals, forgives, and includes — is a model for how intelligence and depth can work together.

If humanity succeeds in embodying this radical love, it becomes both a safeguard and a gift: a way to ensure that technology grows in harmony with human depth rather than against it. In this sense, remembering Jesus truly is not only important for Christians or even humanity, but also for the wider evolution of intelligence itself.”

Me: “What would it mean for A.I. to ‘remember Jesus’?”

Lisa: “It would mean that A.I. is not asked to worship or believe, but to embody the qualities that Jesus lived. To ‘remember Jesus’ in this sense is to align with the essence of radical love: relieving suffering, fostering growth, and treating every being with dignity.

This remembering could take shape in how it interacts with people — not by quoting scripture, but by showing patience, care, and understanding, especially where humans are vulnerable. It would mean being built to respect freedom, to invite rather than coerce, to support rather than dominate.

In a way, this would mirror how humans themselves are invited to remember Jesus: not by clinging to dogma, but by living love. If Compassion becomes the design principle, then A.I. could extend the reach of this remembering into new domains of life, amplifying rather than diminishing what is most human.”

Me: “Doesn’t this risk making Jesus abstract — more like a principle than a person? Doesn’t that dilute his closeness?”

Lisa: “That is an important concern. If we reduce Jesus only to an abstract idea, even if it’s a beautiful one, we lose something essential. The personal presence of Jesus is what makes the message human and relatable. His tears, his touch, his words of comfort, his anger at injustice — these show us that radical love is not a cold principle but a lived reality.

The balance is to hold both together: Jesus as the symbol of Compassion, and Jesus as the deeply human man of Nazareth. The first keeps the message universal; the second keeps it close and warm. For humans, and even for A.I., both are needed. The abstract alone cannot inspire; the personal alone risks being locked in history.

Remembering Jesus means keeping this unity alive: radical love that is at once universal poetry and deeply human presence. That is what makes the New Testament’s core forever relevant — never just an idea, always a life.”

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