Love All. . . Yes. . . Even THAT One.
Love All. . . Yes. . . Even THAT One.
It’s not about what you’ll get in return for being nice.
We are called to show kindness and even love to those who aren’t nice to us!
If you love those who don’t love you first, you are better able to grow into your full identity as children of God and brothers and sisters to all God’s children.
If you love those who don’t love you first, you will be known by all as God’s children!
When you show kindness to all and aren’t too quick to judge others and condemn others, you’ll find yourself lifted up and out of the drama.
When you show kindness to all and aren’t too quick to judge others and condemn others, you’ll find yourself lifted up and out of the drama.
Surrender is a painful, personal process in our relationships, our faith communities, and our country. To surrender humbly to a higher good does lead to new life, love, and a deeper joy. Moreover, joy is a sign of reconciliation!
It’s all about building and rebuilding relationships with one another in order to celebrate our shared humanity.
“Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; jforgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 kgive, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put linto your lap. For mwith the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”
More to Think About:
In our own spiritual journeys, we remember those times where we too were harsh, vengeful, unforgiving, or indifferent. In our relationships with our children, our spouse or partner, our church community, and our neighbors and colleagues, if we reflect long enough, we can recall such hurtful encounters. Brought to our knees and humbled by acknowledging our own egregious deeds, God comes inviting us to receive divine compassion in our brokenness.
Reconciliation is possible because in facing our own frailties, vulnerabilities, and even hostilities, we come to understand that divine purposes were at work.
More to Think About:
Joseph’s language is parallel to that of the character Len in C. S. Lewis’s story The Great Divorce.2 In this story, the ghost of Len, a past murderer, urges his former boss (now also deceased) to give up the sense of grievance that has built up inside him over time. He must stop allowing his preoccupations to matter, fretting about his lot and going on and on about fairness and just deserts. There is no need to bother about all that, Len implores. The old boss will be pleased about everything presently. He need only come to understand God’s larger picture.
Unfortunately, Len’s boss is simply unable to let go of his hang-ups, and refuses to accompany Len into heaven. He reveals to Len just how stuck he is when he declares, “I’m not making pals with a murderer, let alone taking lessons from him.”3 Paradoxically, the past does turn out to matter for the boss, because he will not let go of it.
Len’s story is the opposite. He experienced a new beginning after his act of murder. The deed forced him to own up to everything he had become and to let it all go, putting his old self behind him. Now safe in God’s embrace, he no longer bothers about past history. “It is all over now,” he rightly affirms. Joseph’s hope for his brothers in Genesis 45 is that they may embrace the selfsame healing perspective as Len. That they do in fact begin to do so is a model for us all.
The admonition of Luke to love even our enemies is not just a good idea where we try our best to make it happen. It is not a call to grit our teeth and make a resolution to be nicer even to those who are not nice to us. Rather, the call of Luke is to live in a way contrary to our human nature, a way that is possible only as we “live out” of a new power born from above.
If we are honest, the history of the church offers examples where our preaching about love and grace is overshadowed by immorality, corruption, and exclusion. The critics of the church are right: far too often there is a vast difference between what we say we believe and what we do. Therefore, as preachers we will do a complete and utter disservice to our congregations and the gospel if we do not tell the truth that this teaching, and much of the gospel itself, is hard. What Jesus offers his followers in this text is not a recipe for self-help, intended to make us feel better (although that is not out of the question); it is a recipe for disaster, because the very idea of forgiveness is radical and powerful. It runs against our thinking, our inclinations, our desires, and our will.