March 2022 Connections

Josh Maurer adapted this article from one he wrote in 2016 that was published on Talking Points blog at Grand Rapids Theological Seminary in Grand Rapids Michigan. You can read the original post here: https://bit. ly/3HbsVtw. It is our prayer that this post will begin to put language to our Christian call to “love our enemies” in a culture that is deeply divided along many fault lines. Our Christian identity—and the call to love—transcends any social, economic or political affiliations. After two tumultuous presidential elections and the cultural upheaval that has ensued, discussion surrounding the intersection of evangelical faith and politics in America—whether coming from the so-called right or left—has reached fever pitch. One only needs to peruse social media for a few minutes before becom- ing immersed in this brave new world (to say nothing of cable news channels). I am under no illusion that this article will be sufficiently nuanced to engage all the necessary questions that must be asked and answered. Yet, I do believe it will be a challenging, timely, and I hope helpful, contribution to the discussion.

How should Christians living in this chaos we know as post-2016 reality (Trump/ Biden, #metoo, George Floyd, BLM, January 6 Capitol riot and more) speak and act as those whom Jesus described as salt of the earth and the light of the world? Many people, Christian and non- Christian alike, were elated with Trump’s election; many were devastated. The same holds for Biden. Many, in the face others have protested. Some have done both; others have done neither. Some have even resorted to the very same violence and intolerance they once feared. What is clear in all of this? America is deeply divided. Evangelicalism in America is deeply divided. Such division has manifested itself in a disturbing array of mentalities and behaviors fueled by entrenched ideologies from folks on both sides of the proverbial political aisle. The climate has bred more enemies, it seems, than allies. Now, as “strangers and exiles on the earth who desire a better country” (see Heb. 11:13-16), and as those who are “in the world but not of the world” (John 17:15-19), we are bound up in this turmoil, for good and ill (hopefully more for good). So again, how should we speak and act as salt and light?

Wise contextual sense would have us look to the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7, for it is there we receive this high calling in the world (5:13–14). And surely these chapters are full of relevant words for the present situation. For example, who among us would not benefit from dwelling with the seventh beatitude: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God” (5:9)? Or, more popular but no less powerful, the Golden Rule in Matthew 7:12: “Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets”? These truths are necessary and altogether worthy of extended reflection as we learn how to speak and act as citizens of the kingdom of God in and for the sake of the world. Nevertheless, I want to focus on one particular command, which at once is so familiar and yet still so foreign—one that is both painfully severe and preciously sweet. I’m referring to the command to love our enemies.

It is worth quoting in full: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matt. 5:44-48)

Even a surface reading reveals its severity, for we do not naturally love our enemies but hate (or at the very least, dislike) them. In fact, the very idea of loving our enemies— praying for them and seeking to do them good—seems at best counterintuitive and at worst suicidal. Test yourself. How have you responded to those who voted differently than you did? How do you interact with those, Christian or non-Christian, who are across the political aisle? How have you engaged with fellow evangelicals who take a different stance than you on the cultural issues? I readily admit I have noticed in myself a seed of resentment at times. And if I were a betting man, I would bet I’m not alone. Now, don’t misunderstand, disagreement per se, even strong disagreement, is not resentment, bitterness or hatred. But as the prophet Jeremiah bluntly pointed out: the heart is deceitful and desperately wicked. (Jer. 17:9) It does not take long for healthy disagreement to slide into sinful animosity. Test yourself.

Jesus commands us to be hungry for righteousness and to love our enemies. In other words, to embody and work for biblical justice and love those perpetrating injustice against us. This is difficult, indeed paradoxical. These two aims often collide, for the enemies whom we are called to love are often the same ones who perpetuate genuine evil and injustice. So, how can we be hungry for righteousness (individual and systemic) and at the same time love our enemies? Where do we get the resources for such a posture? It is precisely at this point where the severity of this word gives way to sweetness for those saturated in the gospel.

You see, Jesus is not asking us to do something he has not already done. Grounding, supporting and motivating our acts of love for our enemies is God’s immeasurable act of love for his enemies—us! Paul makes explicit in Romans 5:10 that God reconciled us to himself by the death of his Son precisely “while we were enemies.” The parallel with verse 8 confirms that this reconciliation was rooted in divine love: “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” The only hope we have of obeying Jesus’ command to love our enemies, and thus be salt and light, is to be reminded of, humbled by and to delight in, the God who loves us. As the apostle John said, “We love because he first loved us.” (1 John 4:19) We are mirrors designed to reflect in this world, among other things, and however imperfectly, the matchless love of God.

Therefore, in these days our task is not simply to love our political and cultural allies (the “good” or “just” of Matthew 5)—after all, what reward is in that?—but to love our political and cultural enemies (the “evil” and the “unjust”), and so demonstrate that we are “sons of [our] Father in heaven.” (5:45) Perhaps then, as a result, the world would understand why Jesus calls us the salt of the earth and the light of the world.