“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. – Jesus
Today I realized something about myself that makes me a bit sick to my stomach: I may not be all that interested in loving my enemies after all.
It sure sounded like a nice idea a few months ago, though. Man, back then I could drop that bad boy into online conversation and into my writing like nobody’s business. It was one of my go-to, sure-fire, sanctified mic drops, whenever I encountered hateful people who also claimed faith.
When they tried to fake me out and go all “Hate the sin, love the sinner”, I’d toss Jesus’ words out like a truth grenade, and make them think about their hypocrisy of speaking love while actually being terrible to people, attacking them, vilifying them, ghosting them.
I’d lecture them that their refusal to show kindness and decency to someone, even someone they vehemently disagreed with—was disobedience to Jesus.
I’d remind them that Christians are defined by the way they treat those they believe to be their adversaries—and I’d walk away from those unrepentant enemy-haters feeling pretty darn superior.
But things are different now.
Now the idea doesn’t sit well with me.
Suddenly enemy-love is offensive.
Suddenly it’s less mandatory.
Suddenly it’s up for negotiation.
It was a lot easier to aspire to loving my enemies when they didn’t seem so close, loud, and prevalent; when I didn’t have so many daily reminders of just how much loving I’m now required to do.
I now have to love my enemy across the table at family gatherings.
I have to love my enemy on dear friend’s social media profiles.
I have to love my enemy in my neighbor’s driveway.
I have to love my enemy in the next cubicle at work.
I have to love my enemy at my son’s football practice.
I have to love my enemy at the gym who interrupts my workout with unsolicited opinions.
I have to love my enemy at restaurants who I can overhear in the booth next to me.
I have to love my enemy driving in front of me on the highway.
I have to love my enemy at my former church.
I have to love my enemy at my current church.
Loving my enemies now seems a lot more labor intensive and a lot more complicated than it used to. To be honest, when I see some of the things these people are saying and the hatred they’re perpetuating, and the damage they’re inflicting—I’m not that interested in loving them. In fact, withholding love right now seems like the right message to send them, to let them know how displeased I am by them. Loving them would actually be condoning their behavior, and so hating them feels almost virtuous, almost righteous. (Now, where have I heard that before?)
I think I can convince myself that Jesus is all okay with this; that my mistreatment of my enemies is something he blesses—that it is me being a good and faithful Christian. I think I can tell myself a story that allows me some wiggle room and I might even believe it.
I just hope that in a conversation today, no one tosses out Jesus’ words to me like a truth grenade, and makes me think about my hypocrisy of speaking love while actually being terrible to people, attacking them, vilifying them, ghosting them.
That might be a problem.
I might have to unfriend them.
