The Enemy

     The campaign season rages on, roiling in newspapers, television, Facebook, and other forms of social media. In the halls of my school students recklessly hurl insults around blissfully ignorant of the issues at hand and the injury they may cause each other. Politicians and other leaders stoke the fires of fear and ignorance, hoping to gain ideological support for their party, continued employment, and positions of power and influence. This maelstrom sucks Christians of all types into the swirling chaos of contemporary culture. All too often we give into these forces letting them conform us to their shape. We search holy writ for some scrap of scripture that lends itself to our purpose. Somehow position trumps love. All the while God calls me to love my enemy. How can I love those who insult? How am I to love those who hate from far, far away? How do I maintain love in the face of continual encouragement to despise and demean? How do I love those who seem so different, so estranged, so opposed to what I consider best or normal? In I John 4:18-20, John, Jesus’ best friend, gives me some gentle and challenging pointers in my struggle to love.

     When fear motivates me, I’ve stepped out of love. Love takes up all the space in my heart, leaving no room for hatred. Apparently, in some spiritual way, this is an all or nothing prospect. I either love or hate with nothing in between. In Revelation 3, Jesus speaks to this, “¹⁵ “‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were cold or hot! ¹⁶ So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.” No matter how I try, I cannot mix love and hate. One or the other serves as my primary motivation. Hatred moves me to view those who are different with suspicion, consigning them to the status of, “the other.”

     Once I think of someone as, “the other,” I more easily dehumanize them, ridicule them, suspect them of ulterior motives, spread rumors about them, describe them as the enemy, and hate them. All of these are the antithesis of how God views them. God calls me to love my enemy, pray for them, seek the best for them, hope for their success, to see them as He sees them. I think I do well when I pray for my enemy. It is a start. However, I still fall woefully short of the mark. In my prayer life I do lift up my enemies, but I still consider them, “the enemy.” I am wrong. They are my brothers and sisters.

     God loves them just as much as He loves me. Jesus came, lived, and died for them as much as He did for me. God does not secretly rejoice when my enemy fails, or perishes lost, estranged from the loving embrace of God. He weeps. II Peter 3:8-20 reminds me that God wants all of His children to come home. It grieves Him that so many live in darkness. And when I treat my fellow man, fellow children of God, with disdain, He grieves. As a parent, it gives me great joy to see my children enjoy each other as adults. They still laugh together and rise up to defend each other. When one struggles, the others weep. They love each other and want the best for the other. Oh, that I would feel the same level of compassion for those I consider my enemy. I should not avoid the other; rather I should run to them. I must learn to stop praying for “my enemy” and instead lift up my brothers and sisters, earnestly seeking God’s favor for them, longing for the day when they enjoy the same outpouring of God’s grace that so enriches my life.

     If those of us who claim Christ could grow in this particular grace, perhaps our campaign season might pass more calmly. Perhaps we might find that the other side actually desires good for our nation. Perhaps, even, we might discover some better solution to the problems that vex us so. And most importantly, perhaps we might serves as better ambassadors for Christ, a more pleasing aroma.