"Ain't free will a bitch?" I was walking with one of my favorite theology professors through campus one day and his comment totally caught me off guard. First, because I had never heard the man cuss before. Second, because we were talking about how hard it is to love our enemies like Jesus commanded.
So often when we Christians read those words of Jesus from Matthew 5:44, we tend to treat them as abstractions. We acknowledge Jesus said it and we should probably do it but most of the time - when pressed - we struggle to identify or even name our enemies. Especially if we are coming from a place of privilege. On this particular day, my prof challenged me to go deeper. He was relentless. "Before you love your enemies, Doug, you must first learn to name them. Only then does Jesus' command become real."
I have to admit I struggled that day. I couldn't come up with any names despite the pestering of my professor. I didn't want to. Acknowledging I had real enemies meant acknowledging the pain they caused me. Acknowledging my weakness. My fragility. My frailty. It meant acknowledging my insecurities and deepest fears. For if I truly had an enemy then I was exposed. Vulnerable. Something I fear more than anything else in this world.
My professor kept at me. Over the next several weeks and months we began to tease out the names of those who had hurt me over the years. Some were childhood friends. Some were close family members. Some were church people. Some were not church people. Some had ill intentions. Others were just playing around. Some I hadn't spoken to in years. Others were classmates at the time. I know "enemy" seems like a strong word to describe them but it is often how one feels when one has been hurt. Wounded. Betrayed. And though most of the hurts I have experienced in my life are fairly superficial - when compared to some of the stories I've heard in my time as a pastor - my professor was teaching me that it was okay to acknowledge them openly and honestly and transparently.
Then came the second lesson. Learning to love my enemies. Once I named them, they became real. They had a face. A name. And we had a history. Loving them meant facing that history with eyes wide open and when you do that, it is tempting to play the victim. To hold onto the hurt and pain, refusing to let go. In this way, I exercise power over those who hurt me because I can shame them. And shame is one of the most powerful weapons we have in our arsenals. One we typically save for those who hurt us the most. But my professor wouldn't let me stay in that place. He challenged me to follow the path of Jesus. To choose the way of love over the way of hate. And the way of love is defined by passages in the Bible like 1 Corinthians 13. Love is patient and kind. It doesn't envy or boast. It keeps no record of wrongs. (Imagine that in a world where you can get crushed over something you said decades ago!) The Bible goes further in framing love as the ultimate act of self-sacrifice. Laying down one's life for another. Just as Jesus did for us. For His enemies.
What does all this have to do with the election? As I listen to the rhetoric from my friends across the political, social, and religious spectrum; I am struck by the apocalyptic tone. Black or white. Good or evil. There is no longer any middle ground. And perhaps that's even true. But the way of Jesus calls us to cross the divide anyway. To love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. And it's not like He didn't know what He was talking about. He lived in occupied territory where enemies were real and all around. They wore armor and marched under the standard of the Roman Eagle. They wore robes and phylacteries and marched under the banner of Torah. They carried daggers and sought to kill collaborators and traitors. They lived in tight-knit communities out in the desert. And they crucified anyone who upset the delicate balance they had achieved. These were the flesh and blood enemies Jesus chose to love. Furthermore, as the Son of God, He could see all of history and all the human race spread out before Him. He could see and feel the weight of our sin. The darkness of our corrupt hearts. He could hear our rebellious cries. He could see us raise our arms in defiance. All of us were at war at one time with God. All of us were enemies of Jesus. And still He laid down His life.
I find that loving people without strings requires the same kind of sacrifice. Every day as I engage with those who think differently than me or act differently than me or voted differently than me or see the world differently than me...I am faced with a choice. Will I love my "enemies" as Jesus did? Or will I retreat into my more natural, more comfortable state of hate? Anger? Cynicism? Fear? (By the way, as much as I love Twitter, it is a great medium for this kind of thing. Limit people to 140 characters? Just enough for them to express their basest emotions? Sounds perfect! The devil could not have come up with a more effective tool, IMHO!) Every day I leave my homogeneous circle of friends and engage the world "out there", I am placing myself at risk. Every day I actively listen without interrupting or making my point or exercising my privilege, I am intentionally choosing a more powerless path. Every day I live among my friends and share in their sufferings, hear their heartbreaking stories, and sit with them in the ashes of their lives without answers; I assume a more vulnerable posture.
The reality is that every human being is endowed by God with a "will." They are given the freedom by God to exercise that "will" however they choose. And while they are held responsible by God for the choices they make, they are allowed to make them nonetheless. Even when they are evil. Even when they are self-destructive. Even when their decisions might bring harm to other human beings. (Thus my professor's expletive above...) Does that mean we must remain passive in the face of evil and suffering and pain? Does that mean we are powerless before those who would exercise their "will" in forceful, violent, unhealthy, and dysfunctional ways? Does that mean we become a doormat for our enemies? Absolutely not! We get to make choices here as well. The choice to offer a gentle answer to turn away wrath. The choice to repay evil with good. The choice to meet violence with courageous non-violent protest. The choice to face down those who abuse us or attack us or persecute us and demand justice. The choice to be people of peace in a world where hatred and rage seem to be the currency of the day. This is what means to lay down our lives. This is what it means to love our enemies. This is what our world so desperately needs.