Luke 6:27-38
[Jesus said,] “… listen, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.
“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.
“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”
I don’t know about you, but stuff like “Love your enemies,” “Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you,” and “Turn the other cheek,” have almost become cliché in Christian circles. We read them. We hear them. We turn them into bumper stickers and slogans, so that they seem to have lost their punch. Or maybe it’s that they set such a high standard that they go over our heads or in one ear and out the other.
I mean, does anyone actually do this anymore – “Love your enemies” – if they ever really did? I’m not even sure who my enemies are at the moment. Maybe I’m lucky that my enemies seem like far away, hypothetical, existential kinds of foes. I don’t contend with them daily, face-to-face, man-to-man, if you will, in ways that I’d actually have to make a choice, even, to fight them, let alone love them, as Jesus commands. And those times I have met an enemy face-to-face, it wasn’t pretty, or easy, or loving, by any stretch, to be honest.
And what does it mean to “bless those who curse you?” I’m no good at that. Can any of us say we blessed the last person who really ticked us off – and meant it? Ignored them, maybe… Walked away from them, perhaps… Cursed them in return or muttered something under our breath, more likely… but blessed them? Please.
As for the rest of Jesus’ words today … I have driven past the beggar and pretended not to see them. I have asked for or expected my stuff back when I loan it. I have withheld my coat and my shirt and more and, if you must know – my closets are packed and I could use more hangers at the moment.
And what about, “praying for those who abuse you?” Are you kidding me? I’ve never been abused in the ways that come to mind when I hear that word – physical, sexual, domestic kinds of abuse, I mean. Did you hear about the kidnapped 6 year-old they just found, under some stairs after 2 years, somewhere in New York? The sorts of prayers I’d pray this morning, if I were the family who loved her, wouldn’t be kind or loving or full mercy and forgiveness, I can almost guarantee you that.
And, honestly, I believe all of this is okay, to some extent. And that God understands. God knows this about me, already. And maybe God knows this about some of you, too – how broken and stiff-necked, how selfish and sinful we can be a lot of the time.
What I’m saying is, I take these extreme statements – this very high bar that Jesus sets for his followers – about as literally as I do some of the other things he says about plucking out our eyes if they cause us to sin, or chopping off our limbs if they cause us to stumble. That kind of stuff is holiness to the extreme – it seems like crazy talk – it’s virtually impossible, for most of us – it’s really hard work when the rubber meets the road, to be sure. (Love your enemy … Do unto others … Bless those who curse you … Turn the other cheek …)
I still kind of hold a grudge against that terrible ref at the New Pal/Mt. Vernon basketball game on Friday night! (Love your enemy… Do unto others … Bless those who curse you … Turn the other cheek …)
But seriously, we need to work at this.
Did you know that, in Florida right now, there is a 79 year-old man on trial for shooting and killing a 43 year-old guy named Chad Oulson, in a movie theater, because the 43 year-old wouldn’t turn his cell phone off during the previews and may have thrown some popcorn? (Love your enemy… Turn the other cheek… Do unto others…)
But, it’s not always so cut and dried, is it?
I watched coverage of the Kim Potter sentencing on Friday. She was the officer who shot and killed 20 year-old Daunte Wright during a traffic stop in Minneapolis, a year ago, April. She was sentenced to 2 years, but will only serve 16 months of those behind bars.
I think God understands that Daunte Wright’s family doesn’t have it in them to forgive Kim Potter for killing their son, boyfriend, father, and friend, just yet – and that they want her to do more time for that crime. I think God understands that they can’t love their enemy … turn the other cheek … or, do unto Kim Potter at the moment. And I’m not sure I could either.
But that doesn’t mean we ignore Jesus words altogether – this invitation to forgiveness, to love, to turning, to blessing – it doesn’t mean we don’t strive to achieve those things – somehow … some way … in some measure of time.
I think what Jesus does today is call us toward a better way, as hard as that might be for us. I think Jesus is always inviting us to love, even when it seems impossible; to bless others, even when it’s really hard. I think Jesus is always calling us to mercy and forgiveness even when it goes against our first instinct; or our natural, sinful, selfish inclinations; or even when it goes against what the world would have us do under the same circumstances; and even if we never get all the way there.
I stumbled across something called The Forgiveness Project last week, which is a movement that provides resources and experiences to help people overcome unresolved grief and grievances. The website shares story after story of forgiveness and reconciliation by survivors of all sorts of trauma – from child abuse to school shootings, from parents of murdered children to victims of terrorist attacks, from war crimes and war criminals to victims of terrible car accidents, even. They talk about Forgiveness as a whole other kind of “F Word,” because, as someone there said, it can be the hardest word to say out loud.
And these astonishing feats of faithfulness (parents who can forgive their child’s murderer, children who can forgive abusive parents, women who can forgive their rapists) … that kind of supernatural grace … that sort of sacred selflessness ... that holy humility … that kind of Heaven on Earth … all of it makes me wonder if Jesus’ words about loving your enemies; blessing those who curse you; turning the other cheek; praying for those who abuse you are more possible than I pretend. It makes me wonder if that high bar of impossible mercy really is possible and worthwhile – rewarding, even – if we take it seriously.
I think that’s what life in the kingdom is supposed to look like. And I don’t think we need to have suffered a major, life-altering, news-worthy trauma to give it a go.
We can pray for bullies on the playground, in the classroom, and in the cafeteria. We can forgive that jerk at the office. We can work at loving those people in our lives who make it so hard sometimes. We can be slower to condemn those with whom we disagree. We can be generous, even if we don’t think someone deserves it. We can practice humility when we want so badly to prove how right we are. We can offer a blessing and mean it.
We can show and receive mercy. We can forgive and receive forgiveness. We can love and be loved, in spite of ourselves.
And Jesus models all of this for us, and invites us to it, because he knows we’ll be blessed and because the world will be changed when we live this way.
Because in the end God is merciful, even when we can’t be. God is loving, even when we’re not. God’s grace is more than we can give and always more than we deserve: a good measure, for sure, pressed down, shaken together, running over – for you, for me, and for the world, until we get it right.
Amen
