Loving Your Enemies

It is no coincidence that this week’s Scripture is what it is today. This week has been particularly difficult for our nation and for many people personally. We marked another anniversary of September 11, remembering the nearly 3,000 lives lost in those attacks 24 years ago. The pain of that day continues to echo through our collective memory, reminding us of humanity’s capacity for evil and destruction.

And then, as we were processing those difficult memories, we witnessed another tragic act of violence with the shooting of Charlie Kirk at Utah Valley University. Whatever we may have thought of his politics or his message, we cannot ignore the fact that a life was taken through an act of calculated violence. Another family grieves. Another community is shaken. Another reminder that we live in a broken world where hatred can manifest in the most devastating ways.

I know there are many feeling confused. Upset. Maybe even angry. Some might be asking How are we supposed to make sense of all this? or Where is God when these things happen? These are honest questions from honest hearts, and I want you to know that it’s okay to wrestle with them.

But this morning, as we open God’s Word together, we’re confronted with what might be the most challenging passage in all of Scripture, especially given the events of this past week. In Matthew chapter 5, Jesus looks at His followers-Peoople, who, like us, lived in a world marked by violence, oppression, and injustuces—and he says something that sounds absolutely impossible:

Matthew 5:43–48 NKJV

43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, 45 that you may be sons of your Father 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. 46 For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? 47 And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so? 48 Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.

Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you. In the wake of terrorist attacks and political assassinations, these words don't just sound difficult – they sound offensive. They sound naive. They sound impossible.

And yet, here they are. Words spoken by the Son of God himself, who knew full well what it meant to face violence, hatred, and ultimately death at the hands of his enemies. So this morning, I want to wrestle with these words together. Not because I have easy answers, but because I believe Jesus is calling us to something profound – something the world desperately needs to see, especially in times like these.

The Reality Jesus Acknowledges

Notice that Jesus begins by acknowledging a fundamental reality: "You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.'" Jesus doesn't start by pretending that enemies don't exist. He doesn't begin with some naive assumption that everyone is basically good if we just try hard enough to understand them.

No, Jesus acknowledges what we all know to be true: there are people in this world who will hurt you. There are individuals who will choose violence over peace, hatred over love, destruction over creation. There are those who will fly planes into buildings, who will walk into universities with weapons, who will target innocent people because of their beliefs or their politics or simply because they represent something they despise.

Jesus acknowledges that the natural human response to such people is hatred. When someone hurts us or those we love, when someone threatens our way of life or our safety, our instinct is to hate them back. To want revenge. To wish harm upon them. This isn't necessarily wrong – it's human. It's the way God designed us to respond to threats and injustice.

The "old way" of thinking that Jesus references – "love your neighbor and hate your enemy" – this makes perfect sense to us. Love those who love you back. Protect your tribe. Stand against those who stand against you. This is how communities survive. This is how nations defend themselves. This is how families protect their children.

And let me be clear: there's nothing inherently wrong with these instincts. When evil rears its head, when violence threatens the innocent, when hatred seeks to destroy what is good and beautiful in this world, it's natural and even necessary to stand against it. The question isn't whether we should oppose evil – we absolutely should. The question is how we oppose it, and what we allow it to do to our hearts in the process.

The Radical Call

But then Jesus says something that turns everything upside down: "But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

Now, before we dismiss this as impossible idealism, I want us to be very clear about what Jesus is NOT saying here. He's not saying we should be naive about evil. He's not telling us to ignore violence or fail to protect the innocent. He's not asking us to have warm, fuzzy feelings toward terrorists or assassins. He's not suggesting that we abandon justice or stop holding people accountable for their actions.

Jesus lived in a world under Roman occupation. He watched his people suffer under brutal oppression. He saw violence, injustice, and cruelty firsthand. When he speaks about loving enemies, he's not speaking from a place of sheltered idealism. He's speaking as someone who understands the reality of evil and the cost of confronting it.

So what does it mean to love our enemies? What does it mean to pray for those who persecute us?

First, it means refusing to let hatred consume our hearts. When we allow bitterness and rage to take root in our souls, when we let the actions of evil people determine who we become, we give them a victory they don't deserve. We become less human, less like the people God created us to be. Loving our enemies means choosing not to let their evil transform us into something we were never meant to be.

Second, it means praying for their souls and their transformation. This doesn't mean praying that they escape justice or that their actions are excused. It means praying that somehow, someway, the God who can transform any heart might reach even them. It means recognizing that behind every act of evil is a human being created in God's image, no matter how distorted that image has become.

Third, it means working to break cycles of revenge and retaliation that only perpetuate more violence. When we respond to hatred with hatred, to violence with violence, we don't end the cycle – we continue it. We ensure that there will be more victims, more grieving families, more communities torn apart by senseless acts of violence.

But perhaps most importantly, loving our enemies means choosing to live as citizens of a different kingdom. Jesus is calling us to represent a different way of being human. He's asking us to show the world what it looks like when people are transformed by the love of God. He's challenging us to be agents of healing rather than agents of further division.

The Divine Pattern

Jesus explains the reason behind this radical call: "that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous."

This is a profound statement about the character of God. Even in a world filled with violence and hatred, even in a world where terrorists plot destruction and assassins take innocent lives, God continues to show mercy. The sun rises on the homes of both victims and perpetrators. The rain falls on the just and the unjust alike.

God's love is not conditional on our behavior. His grace is not reserved only for those who deserve it. If it were, none of us would receive it. The same God who grieves over every act of violence, who weeps with every victim, who burns with righteous anger at injustice – this same God continues to offer mercy even to those who commit the most heinous acts.

This doesn't mean God excuses evil or ignores justice. Scripture is clear that God is both perfectly loving and perfectly just. But it does mean that God's heart breaks for everyone created in his image, even those who have chosen to distort that image beyond recognition.

And Jesus asks us a challenging question: "If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?"

In other words, what makes us different? If our love extends only to those who love us back, if our compassion reaches only to those who share our values and beliefs, if our forgiveness is offered only to those who don't really need it – then how are we any different from anyone else in the world?

The world is full of people who love their own tribe and hate their enemies. The world is full of communities that protect their own and seek revenge against those who hurt them. If that's all we offer, then we have nothing unique to contribute. We're just another voice in the chorus of division and hatred that already fills our culture.

But Jesus is calling us to something different. He's calling us to love in a way that doesn't make sense to the world. He's asking us to forgive in a way that seems impossible. He's challenging us to respond to evil with something the world rarely sees: grace that extends even to our enemies.

Living This Out in Dark Times

So what does this look like practically? How do we live out this impossible command in the wake of tragedies like we've witnessed this week?

Let me start with our hearts. We must guard against bitterness taking root. This doesn't mean we don't feel anger – even Jesus felt righteous anger at injustice. But it means we don't let that anger turn into hatred that poisons our souls. It means we don't let the actions of evil people determine who we become.

We pray for those who commit acts of violence, even when it feels impossible. We pray for the shooter who took Charlie Kirk's life. We pray for the terrorists who planned the attacks of September 11th. We pray not because they deserve our prayers, but because prayer changes us. It keeps our hearts soft when the world would make them hard. It reminds us that everyone is created in God's image, even when that image is barely recognizable.

We remember that hurt people often hurt people. This doesn't excuse their actions, but it helps us understand that behind every act of evil is often a story of brokenness and pain. When we pray for our enemies, we're praying for God to heal whatever brokenness drove them to such desperate acts.

But loving our enemies doesn't stop with our hearts – it extends to our actions. We support justice through proper legal channels. We want the shooter brought to trial. We want accountability for those who plan and carry out acts of terrorism. Love doesn't mean abandoning justice – it means pursuing justice without hatred.

We protect the vulnerable and innocent. We work to prevent future tragedies. We support policies and practices that make our communities safer. But we do all of this without letting fear and hatred drive our decisions.

We work to address the root causes of violence and hatred in our society. We ask hard questions about what creates the kind of desperation and radicalization that leads to mass shootings and terrorist attacks. We look for ways to build bridges rather than walls, to create communities where people feel valued and heard rather than isolated and angry.

And perhaps most importantly, we refuse to participate in cycles of retaliation. We don't respond to political violence with calls for more political violence. We don't answer hatred with hatred. We break the cycle by choosing a different way.

The Church's Unique Calling

As a church, we have a unique opportunity and responsibility in times like these. While the world responds to tragedy with more division, more hatred, more calls for revenge, we have the chance to model something different.

We process grief and anger honestly together. We don't pretend that loving our enemies is easy or that we don't struggle with feelings of rage and desire for revenge. We acknowledge these very human emotions while refusing to let them control us.

We support those most affected by recent events. We pray for the Kirk family as they grieve their loss. We remember the families of September 11th victims who are reminded afresh of their pain each year. We offer practical support and spiritual comfort to those who are hurting.

We become agents of healing rather than division in our community. Instead of adding our voices to the chorus of hatred and blame, we speak words of healing and hope. We look for ways to bring people together rather than drive them apart.

We model a different way forward. When our neighbors see how we respond to tragedy and violence, they should see something that makes them curious. They should see people who grieve deeply but don't become bitter. They should see people who pursue justice without hatred. They should see people who somehow manage to love even when love seems impossible.

The Call to Perfection

Jesus concludes this impossible teaching with an equally impossible command: "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

The Greek word translated "perfect" here doesn't mean moral perfection in the sense that we never make mistakes. It means completeness, wholeness, maturity. It means being fully developed into what we were created to be. And what we were created to be is people who love the way God loves.

God's love is complete. It extends to everyone, even his enemies. It reaches into the darkest corners of human brokenness and offers hope for transformation. It doesn't excuse evil, but it doesn't give up on evildoers either.

Jesus is calling us to this kind of complete, mature love. Love that doesn't make sense to the world. Love that extends even to those who hurt us. Love that somehow manages to hold together justice and mercy, truth and grace, righteous anger and compassionate forgiveness.

And here's the thing: this kind of love is impossible in our own strength. We cannot manufacture this kind of grace through willpower or good intentions. It can only come as a gift from God, through the power of his Spirit working in us.

This teaching points us to our desperate need for God's help. It reminds us that we cannot live as citizens of God's kingdom through our own effort. We need divine transformation. We need the same Spirit that enabled Jesus to forgive his executioners to work in our hearts.

Conclusion

So where does this leave us this morning? We've acknowledged the difficulty of Jesus's teaching. We've wrestled with what it might mean to love our enemies in the wake of recent tragedies. We've considered both the impossibility and the necessity of this command.

I want to close with a challenge and a promise.

The challenge is this: Will we let recent events make us more like the world, or more like Christ? Will we respond to hatred with more hatred, to violence with calls for revenge, to division with more division? Or will we choose the difficult path of loving our enemies, even when it feels impossible?

The world is watching how we respond to tragedy and violence. Our neighbors are looking to see if our faith makes any real difference when it's tested by the worst that humanity has to offer. They want to know if the gospel we proclaim has the power to transform hearts even in the darkest times.

This doesn't mean we become naive about evil or passive in the face of injustice. It means we respond to evil with something the world rarely sees: love that is stronger than hatred, grace that is more powerful than revenge, hope that can overcome even the darkest despair.

And here's the promise: We don't have to do this in our own strength. The same God who calls us to love our enemies is the God who provides the power to do so. The same Spirit who enabled early Christians to forgive their persecutors is available to us today. The same grace that transformed murderers like Paul into messengers of peace can work in our hearts as well.

This morning, if you're struggling with feelings of hatred or desire for revenge, bring those feelings to God. Don't pretend they don't exist – confess them honestly and ask God to transform them. Ask him to give you his heart for even your enemies. Ask him to help you love the way he loves.

If you're confused or upset by recent events, know that it's okay to wrestle with difficult questions. God is big enough to handle our doubts and our anger. But don't let that confusion drive you away from the radical love Jesus calls us to. Let it drive you deeper into dependence on his grace.

Church, we live in dark times. But we serve a God who specializes in bringing light into darkness, hope into despair, love into hatred. May we be instruments of his light in a dark world. May we be agents of his love in a world filled with hatred. May we show our enemies – and our neighbors – what it looks like when people are transformed by the impossible love of God.

In times like these, the world needs to see people who love differently. Not because it's easy, but because it's the only way to break the cycles of hatred and violence that threaten to destroy us all.

May God give us the grace to love our enemies, pray for those who persecute us, and be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect. Not in our own strength, but in the power of his unfailing love.

Let us pray.

Heavenly Father, we come to you this morning with heavy hearts and confused minds. The events of this week have reminded us of the depth of human brokenness and the reality of evil in our world. We confess that our natural response is hatred and desire for revenge. We want those who commit acts of violence to suffer as their victims have suffered.

But Lord, you call us to something different. You call us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. This feels impossible, and in our own strength, it is. We need your help. We need your Spirit to transform our hearts and give us love that doesn't make sense to the world.

Help us to grieve appropriately for those who have been lost. Comfort the families who are mourning. Bring justice through proper channels. Protect the innocent from further harm. But don't let hatred take root in our hearts. Don't let bitterness poison our souls. Make us agents of healing rather than agents of further division.

Show us what it looks like to love our enemies without excusing their actions. Teach us to pursue justice without hatred. Give us wisdom to know how to respond to evil in ways that bring glory to your name and healing to our world.

Lord, we cannot do this without you. But we believe that your grace is sufficient, your love is stronger than hatred, and your kingdom will ultimately triumph over all evil. Help us to be faithful witnesses to that kingdom, even in the darkest times.

In the name of Jesus, who loved his enemies even unto death, we pray. Amen.