27 “But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; 28 bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you. 29 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. 30 Give to everyone who asks of you, and if anyone takes away what is yours, do not ask for it back again. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you. 32 If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35 Instead, 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 himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. 37 Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 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.”
Luke 6:27-38 (NRSVue)
The command to “love your enemies” stands out among Jesus’s teachings. It is shockingly counterintuitive, for retaliation seems the more instinctual human response. But the extension of divinely patterned love all the way to enemies is not the part of this command that most challenges me. After all, Jesus is pulling on a long biblical thread, recognizing that enemies (just as much as friends) are part of the human family and should be afforded dignity, compassion, mercy… in a word: love.
Consider the following legal case: “When you come upon your enemy’s ox or donkey going astray, you shall bring it back. When you see the donkey of one who hates you struggling under its burden and you would hold back from setting it free, you must help to set it free” (Exodus 23:4–5). The implications of case laws like this are not limited to the given scenario alone but are meant to be the basis for social principles. Here, the principle is that even the enemy—if they are in need—must be shown generous care. Or consider the following proverbs: “Do not rejoice when your enemies fall, and do not let your heart be glad when they stumble” (Proverbs 24:17); “If your enemies are hungry, give them bread to eat, and if they are thirsty, give them water to drink” (Proverbs 25:21). In other words, the Bible’s legal and wisdom traditions both give precedent for loving one’s enemies and treating them with dignified compassion.
The part I find most difficult to accept in Jesus’s teaching from Luke 6 is not the extent of the love he commands, but rather his matter-of-fact acknowledgment that his followers will have enemies. Perhaps I am naïve about this, but my conflict-avoidant nature balks at the prospect of having enemies. I come to Luke 6 expecting Jesus’s message to be that we ought not to regard any human sibling as an “enemy” but always as a potential friend. Human conflicts that trend toward or reinforce enmity ought to be resolved as quickly as possible through generous diplomacy and forgiveness—with the goal of reconciliation and the remaking of enemies into friends.
While such an angle on conflict may have biblical support, that is not the angle Jesus is taking in Luke’s “sermon on the plain.” Here, Jesus accepts that enemies are real and insists that his followers will have them. Again, the recognition of enemies for God’s people is not Jesus’s own invention (skim through the Psalms, for example, to find them riddled with laments about enemies). The sobering reality is that whatever the effects of Jesus’s movement may be, he does not predict that it will eliminate the experience of having enemies. On the contrary, Jesus expects that alliance with him will actually provoke enmity (see Luke 6:22–23, just prior to the lectionary text).
If Jesus is right, that having enemies is a fact of life, then we ought to ask: Who, then, is my enemy? In Jesus’s speech, he identifies enemies (using typical Semitic rhetorical parallelism) as “those who hate you … those who curse you … those who mistreat you” (Luke 6:27–28). He also refers to those who “exclude you, revile you, and defame you…” (Luke 6:22). This is helpful because it distinguishes enemies from mere “opponents” or “adversaries.” Enemies (in the way Jesus is using the term) are not those with whom we disagree, those who are different from us, those beyond our own ethnic in-group, those we do not understand, those we find morally repugnant—such people Jesus identifies as “neighbors” (see Luke 10:25–37). Enemies are those who possess power over us and use that power to harm, oppress, or persecute.
Enmity, in this sense, exists in the context of a social power differential. Expressions of enmity (cursing, mistreating, excluding, defaming) are attempts to reinforce the power differential when one’s position of dominance feels threatened. Attacking those without the resources to effectively retaliate belies a fragility on the part of the oppressor. It is “punching down” by those insecure in their own social standing—however confident or bombastic they may appear—in a desperate effort to preclude the self-determination of the other. Often, these enemies resort to violence (whether physical, psychological, or legal violence) to maintain their system of dominance, believing that such violence is necessary, right, and coherent. “Security” (for the privileged) becomes the highest priority.
In our context (I’m thinking of my own context in the USA, but the phenomenon is unfortunately global), wealthy, straight, white men who have incredible social privilege and power are exposing their insecurity by labeling as dangerous threats: immigrants, people of color, sexual minorities, gender minorities, those with mental illness, the impoverished—all vulnerable populations with precarious social power. The new Trump administration’s crackdown against diversity, equity, and inclusion; mass deportation of neighborly immigrants; closing off the border to desperate refugees; freezing assistance to humanitarian aid organizations; erasure of transgendered citizens’ rights and existence by executive edict; and other similar actions represent textbook (and devastating) toxic insecurity. By oppressing vulnerable communities in the attempt to “make [us] great again,” the powerful have made themselves into true enemies.
Before turning to Jesus’s recommended response to such enemies, it is important to consider: Am I an enemy? I happen not to belong to any of the vulnerable communities I named in the previous paragraph. Therefore, I must be ready to acknowledge that to the extent I rest in my privilege, hoard my own power, and tacitly condone the mistreatment of the vulnerable, I am also the enemy. Jesus’s harshest words may be addressed to me: “Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep” (Luke 6:24–25). If someone like me is to be a friend—an ally—and not an enemy, it will require true solidarity with those “who are poor … who are hungry now … who weep now” (Luke 6:20–21), to consider their enemies as my enemies.
It does not follow, however, that accepting Jesus’s description of a world of oppressive enemies encourages the oppressed and their allies to resist oppressors through retaliatory violence. Instead, Jesus commands his followers to respond to enemies with love.
Importantly and (I must confess) counter to my own interpretive instinct, Jesus does not advise love of enemies as a strategy for turning enemies into friends—as if the response of love will cause them to be ashamed of their behavior and lead to repentance. The project of transforming the soul of society is a worthy one, but it is not Jesus’s focus here. Moreover, we have two millennia of historical experience to demonstrate that Christian love of enemies (when it has been practiced) has not led to an enemy-less utopia. The powerful still characteristically oppress the vulnerable.
No, the purpose behind love of enemies is not the transformation of the oppressor, but the empowering of the oppressed. Love does not excuse oppression. It still names the enemy as an enemy and calls out their mistreatment for the evil it is. But the response of love sidesteps the interminable cycle of violence and retaliation and lays hold of a new identity, as one who bears the family resemblance of the God who is Love. Love says to the oppressor, “You are indeed my enemy, but your enmity does not define me. God’s love alone is the foundation of my identity.”
Loving the enemy empowers the oppressed to reframe or redefine their identity, not according to the violent terms of the oppressor but according to their own self-determination (or divine determination, as Jesus describes it). In this way, love of enemies functions as resistance against oppression, by refusing to let the oppressor control the terms of the relationship; by refusing to confirm the fears of the powerful that our intentions are bent toward domination. Love undercuts the narrative of “danger” and exposes it as a farce. Enemies may not accept the farce of their narrative. They may disregard the incoherence of their violence. They may refuse the transformative potential of love. But for the oppressed, love is their liberation, bonding them as family to the One who is sovereign over all.
Jesus’s command to love our enemies does not preclude the types of resistance that involve political advocacy, legal challenges, nonviolent activism, and the like. Indeed, it gives those involved in that struggle a place of strength, a sense of God-given dignity, from which to pursue justice—even when that justice is elusive. “Love your enemies, do good … expecting nothing in return” (Luke 6:35a). Love changes the game, disrupts the economics of power and dominance, and takes hold of the promise of divine—rather than human—benefaction: “Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High” (Luke 6:35b).
Dear Dr.McNish, your article was very insightful and pertinent to our own predicament as Christians who are trying to navigate through very difficult circumstances where all of us have become, in one way or another, enemies. Perhaps you might want to consider addressing the same theme to the religious institutions, which in some way would need to shepherd their constituencies through some dire situations.
Once again, thank you for your “word” at this time of need.