Jesus tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who hate us. We immediately rebel against this command, dismiss it as rosy idealism, as too soft, as weak and ineffective, or simply as impossible. So I want to start today with a prayer that helps us take Jesus seriously even when we don’t want to. It’s called A Prayer for Enemies and it’s found in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. Let us pray:
O God, the Father of all, whose Son commanded us to love our enemies: Lead them and us from prejudice to truth: deliver them and us from hatred, cruelty, and revenge; and in your good time enable us all to stand reconciled before you, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
There. If you prayed that along with me, you just loved your enemy. Good work. It’s possible.
We have different kinds of enemies in this life, and I want to spend the next few weeks diving into how to love them – and I am going to be paying special attention to how we love our political enemies. The reason for this should be obvious. We will look at how to love the politicians we can’t stand. We will look at how to love our enemies systemically in how and why we vote. But today we are going to look at how we love the political enemy who is our family member or friend.
And let me say right out of the gates that yes, family and friends can be enemies. I know this is harsh language and it may make you uncomfortable to think this way. That’s ok. Let’s stay here for a little bit. Families and friendships can be pushed to or even past the breaking point over politics, and I’m not here to tell you that is inherently wrong, or that people are taking politics too seriously. If I were a person of color and one of my friends actively supported racist policies, I imagine it would impact our friendship. If I were a military veteran and a family member of mine cheered at funding cuts to the VA, I imagine it would impact our relationship.
Politics are personal. It’s odd that we suggest otherwise. Perhaps politics don’t feel personal when the results of an election don’t affect your daily life all that much. But if your rights are being debated, your livelihood or safety is on the line, it doesn’t feel abstract – it becomes more than just a matter of playful debate. Nostalgic conversations about civility and placid calls for unity cost us nothing and are worth as much. We have a responsibility to take our division seriously.
Deep division among family and friends is not new. Jesus himself warned his disciples that following him would cause division in their families and friendships. Jesus knew that taking him seriously would cause his followers to live their lives differently – to break down historic societal barriers, to transgress cultural norms, to create just, equitable, and peaceful communities. The first Christians refused to pledge allegiance to Caesar, believing their loyalty was with Jesus and their citizenship was in Heaven. They were often shunned by family and persecuted – even unto death – for the political implications of their religious beliefs.
In the course of this life, sometimes we make enemies. And sometimes those enemies are our friends and family. As David Rawlings sings, “sometimes brother hates brother.” This is not new. The question is how do we love each other?
I was having a conversation with a friend a while back, and they made a political statement I wasn’t sure I agreed with. In fact, I was pretty sure I didn’t agree. My first instinct was to say something about how I felt differently, but I held back partially because I love them, but mostly because I didn’t feel like getting into an argument. And then they kept talking and I got to hear something of their heart. And then it hit me – and I have no idea why this hasn’t hit me before – when someone shares their political perspective they are sharing something of themselves; they are sharing a piece of their hearts. and I have to respect that.
Every time someone shares a political opinion, they are disclosing something about their beliefs and their hopes and their fears and their hearts. And my initial reaction is to search them for perfect accuracy (defined by my own gauge of accuracy, of course).
This is not a disavowal of facts. There are true things and false things and right and wrong. And even people who are right a lot and have great hearts can believe wrong things. I want to say this again, because we might gloss over it: I can be a good person with a great heart and still believe something that is wrong and even harmful to others. I can want good things and still participate in destructive things. As my colleague Herschel recently preached, evil doesn’t always present as evil when it shows up. I am complicated and messy. It’s no use pretending otherwise.
But when someone tells you what they believe, they are telling you something about themselves. Even when they’re wrong, even when you disagree, even when they’re not sure of themselves. And that is a gift. A gift to you. It is a privilege to share this world with the people you love. Hell, it’s even a privilege to share this world with the people you don’t love. And when someone chooses to give you something of their heart and mind, there’s grace in that.
Loving the political enemy that is in your family or friend circle, that is in your regular life – it does not require you to paper over your differences. And your friendship may be strained or even broken. Don’t namecheck Jesus if you’re going to say that’s not Christian. Jesus is clear about the wedge our differences can drive between us. But, and this is not a semantic trick, you can still love them. You can love them fiercely and wholly and without condition.
To love someone is to recognize their humanity and respect their dignity, to act as if they too were made by God, as if they too are messy and complicated and beloved by the one who made them.
If I am on good enough terms with my political enemy, I can seek actively to listen and try to understand their heart even when I disagree with their conclusions. This will not solve the problems of the world, but it may create room for the love between us to grow. That is not nothing.
And if I am estranged from or on tenuous terms with someone I love because of our political differences, maybe I can start with the prayer from the beginning of this blog. This prayer seeks a reconciliation that comes from the sacrifice of pride and prejudice. It requires something of them, yes, but it requires something of me as well. And it requires something of God – who got us into this mess in the first place.
You and I exist because the God who is Love created us. We were born from love. We were born for love. It is not an elective or an extracurricular activity, and it’s not fluffy idealism. It is our reason for existing. The decision to love the people who disagree with us – and I mean even when we are actively working against each other – the decision to love them, to humanize them, to insist on their belovedness – this is the work that will define us, it is the work of our lives.
