The Three Greek Words for Love: Not What Most People Think

Have you ever noticed how limiting our English vocabulary can be when we speak of love? We use the same word to describe our feelings for our spouse, our children, our friends, and even our favorite foods. What might we discover if we had more precise language to express the different dimensions of this most fundamental human experience?

The Greek language offers us this precision through three primary terms for love: ἔρως (eros), φιλία (philia), and ἀγάπη (agape). These distinctions reveal profound theological insights about human relationships and our relationship with God that can transform how we understand and practice love in our daily lives.

Often, when this is presented, we hear that agape love is the highest kind of love, the best, the one we should strive toward. I think that reading is a mistake. Because the other two are just as important, so important in fact that I don't think we can ever understand agape at all apart from eros and philia.

Eros: Divine Desire, Not Mere Lust

Perhaps the most misunderstood of these terms is ἔρως (eros). In contemporary culture, "erotic" has become synonymous with the purely sexual or lustful. This reduction represents a profound misreading of the original concept.

Properly understood, eros is not mere physical attraction but rather represents the soul's yearning for beauty and goodness. It is an ascending movement—a desire that, when rightly ordered, leads us toward God. Biblical faith does not reject human desire but rather accepts it, purifies it, and reveals new dimensions of it.

In the Song of Songs, we see eros celebrated within the context of faithful, covenantal love. The passionate language between the lovers portrays desire not as something to be suppressed but as something to be directed and elevated: "Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the LORD" (Song 8:6). The Hebrew text here uses שַׁלְהֶבֶתְיָה (šalhebetyah), literally "the flame of Yah," connecting human passion directly to divine fire.

This connection between human desire and divine love reminds us that our capacity for passionate attachment is not a flaw in our nature but a reflection of how we are made in God's image. The longing we feel—whether for beauty, for truth, or for another person—can be a pathway toward God when properly understood and directed.

As Pope Benedict XVI wisely stated in his encyclical Deus Caritas Est: "Eros, a human love, ascends, whereas agape, a divine love, descends. But agape is not completely separate from eros; indeed, it purifies it and brings it to fulfillment. For love is a single reality, though with different dimensions; at different times, one or another dimension may emerge more clearly." This profound insight underscores that eros, far from being inherently sinful, is a fundamental human drive meant to be integrated and elevated by agape.

This is also where a lot of people who struggle with lust get it wrong. They often pray for the wrong thing, asking God to remove their "desire," which is a lot like asking God to remove them from eros. That's the wrong move. The desire itself is not what constitutes lust (which is a sin) it's the direction we move with eros that leads to lust. Thus, the better thing to pray for is not a removal of desire, but rather a redirection of our passions, that we be given the eyes to see beauty as it is properly designed, the beauty of God, and the beauty of others.

You see, when we reduce a person's beauty to what we see, divorced from the person, we turn them into an object to "use." The problem with lust, and all the lust-related sins like self-abuse and p**nography isn't (as it's often said) that it reveals too much. It's just the opposite. It reveals to little. It reduces the body to an object, stripped of personhood. It turns a human being made in God's image into something to "use," rather than a beautiful person to honor, as a reflection of God Himself.

 

Philia: The Bond of Friendship

The second term, φιλία (philia), represents the love of friendship and familial bonds. This is the love that develops through shared experience, mutual respect, and common values. Jesus himself elevates this form of love when he says to his disciples, "No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends (φίλους)" (Jn 15:15).

The root φιλ- appears in numerous compounds throughout the New Testament, including φιλαδελφία (philadelphia), "brotherly love" (Rom 12:10), and φιλόξενος (philoxenos), "love of strangers" or "hospitality" (1 Pt 4:9). This family of terms points to the importance of community and mutual care in Christian life.

Aristotle explored philia extensively, distinguishing between friendships of utility, pleasure, and virtue. Only the last—friendship based on mutual recognition of goodness—constitutes true philia. The New Testament builds upon this understanding but transforms it through the example of Christ, who models the ultimate philia by laying down his life for his friends (Jn 15:13).

In our increasingly isolated society, recovering the value of philia becomes especially important. The digital connections that promise community often deliver only its shadow. True philia requires presence, vulnerability, and commitment over time. When Jesus called his disciples friends, he did so after sharing meals, conversations, journeys, and trials with them. Our own friendships require similar investment if they are to reach the depth of true philia.

Agape: Self-Giving Love

The third term, ἀγάπη (agape), is the one most distinctively associated with Christian theology. While rare in classical Greek literature, it becomes the predominant term for love in the New Testament. Agape is defined not primarily by feeling but by will and action—a deliberate choice to seek the good of another. 

When Jesus commands us to "love (ἀγαπᾶτε) your enemies" (Mt 5:44), he is not asking for warm feelings but for a decision to act for their wellbeing regardless of emotional response. This is the love described in Paul's famous passage: "Love (ἀγάπη) is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude" (1 Cor 13:4).

The verbal form ἀγαπάω appears in the greatest commandment: "You shall love (ἀγαπήσεις) the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind" (Mt 22:37). Here, love is not merely emotional but encompasses the whole person—intellect, will, and affections.

Agape calls us beyond our natural inclinations to a supernatural love. When we consider loving our enemies, we recognize immediately the impossibility of this command without divine assistance. Yet this impossibility is precisely the point—agape love is not something we can generate from our own resources but something we receive from God and then extend to others. "We love because he first loved us" (1 Jn 4:19).

The Integration of Loves

The common misunderstanding that sets these forms of love against each other—particularly the notion that eros and agape are opposed—fails to grasp the Christian vision of integrated love. As Pope Benedict XVI clarifies,

"Eros and agape—ascending love and descending love—can never be completely separated. The more the two, in their different aspects, find a proper unity in the one reality of love, the more the true nature of love in general is realized."

This means that Eros (ascending love) and agape (descending love) are not enemies but partners in the single reality of authentic love. 

This integration is evident in marriage, where initial attraction (eros) develops into deep friendship (philia) and self-giving commitment (agape). Far from being opposed to chastity, properly understood eros serves chastity by directing desire toward its proper end.

Chastity is not the suppression of desire but its proper ordering—ensuring that our loves are aligned with their proper objects and expressed in appropriate ways. For a fantastic book on Chastity, I recommend the book by Eric Varden, Chastity: A Reconciliation of the Senses. It's a real modern classic. It's not about "abstinence," but as defined above, a proper ordering of our "eros" within our station or vocation in life, be that single, married, etc.

Thomas Aquinas understood this when he defined love as "willing the good of the other." This definition encompasses both the desire for union characteristic of eros and the self-giving characteristic of agape. The proper integration of these dimensions leads to what Augustine called "ordered love"—loving the right things in the right way and to the right degree. 

Consider how these dimensions appear in the life of Christ. Jesus displayed philia in his close friendships with his disciples and with the family in Bethany. He exhibited agape in his healing ministry and ultimately on the cross. And while we might hesitate to speak of eros in relation to Christ, his intense longing for communion with his people is expressed in nuptial imagery throughout Scripture. "As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you" (Is 62:5).

Practical Application

Understanding these distinctions helps us navigate our relationships with greater wisdom. Rather than rejecting eros as somehow "unchristian," we can recognize it as a God-given energy that, when properly directed, leads us toward communion. The attraction between man and woman is not a consequence of sin but part of God's original design, meant to reflect the communion of persons in the Trinity.

In fact, I think we could argue that the failure to understand eros properly is behind a lot of problems in Christianity today. It's what led to the kind of "puritanical" anti-sexual obsession that still plagues some theologies today. The suppression of eros rather than the proper orientation of eros often leads to a failure to develop desire in a godly way. It leads many young people, especially, into all kinds of sin as they mature simply because they have learned that their very natural and god-given urges are actually sinful. They are not sinful urges, they are good urges - but unless we're trained to channel those urges toward beauty the right way, in a chaste way, we are likely to bend them toward self, which is where the real problem arises.

Similarly, we can appreciate philia as essential to Christian community. The early Christians were known for their love for one another, creating bonds that transcended social divisions. Paul's frequent use of familial language (brothers, sisters) emphasizes that Christian fellowship should embody the best aspects of philia.

Finally, we can recognize agape as the distinctive Christian contribution to understanding love—not as a replacement for other forms of love but as their perfection. The self-giving love demonstrated by Christ on the cross becomes our model for all relationships.

How might this understanding transform our approach to love in practical terms?

First, it allows us to embrace desire without idolizing it. Eros points beyond itself to something greater. When we experience attraction or longing, we can ask: Where is this desire ultimately leading me? Is it drawing me toward God or away from Him?

Second, it challenges us to invest in true friendship. In a culture of superficial connections, philia calls us to deeper commitment. This means making time for face-to-face conversation, showing up in times of need, speaking truth in love, and creating spaces where genuine community can flourish.

Third, it invites us to practice self-giving love even when feelings fail us. Agape is not dependent on the worthiness of its object or the emotions of the moment. When we find it difficult to love someone, we can still choose actions that serve their genuine good.

Conclusion

The Greek vocabulary for love offers us not just linguistic precision but spiritual insight. Eros is a divine spark within us, leading us towards the beauty and goodness that reflect the very nature of God. It’s only when eros is bent inward toward the self, when we desire the other as an object to claim or seize for the sake of our pleasure, does eros lead to lust… but eros in itself is a good thing. Thus, when we see beauty, we can do one of two things. Eros can lead us toward agape, toward a selfless love that honors beauty for what it is, a reflection of God’s original beauty… or we can attempt to seize it, the claim it, to objectify it for our use, which leads us in exactly the opposite direction, toward the service of the god-of-me, not the God above, the creator-of-me.

 

In Jesus' name,

Judah