Luke 6:27-38
Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany
Year C
Luke’s counsel towards love and non-violence in Luke 6:27-38, paralleled in Matthew 5:43 and Romans 12:20, is one the most distinctive directives in Christianity, laying the foundation for the long-held belief that early Christianity was pacifist to the core. Texts like these also played a formative role in the reflection of luminaries like Howard Thurman and Martin Luther King Jr., who found in them biblical support for non-violence as a form of resistance to evil.
It may seem odd to characterize Luke’s version of enemy love as “resistance”: “Do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat, do not withhold even your shirt.” At first glance, this doesn’t look like resistance but more like “doormat Christianity” because it seems so passive.
In her book Dear White Christians, Jennifer Harvey tells a story about her mentor, James Cone, the prominent Black liberation theologian who often critiqued both integration and passive nonviolence. When White folk would ask him, “Do you believe in violence?” Cone would expose the assumption behind this question because it never took seriously the oppressor’s violence, answering, “Whose violence are we talking about?” This story illuminates reflection on Luke 6:27-38, a text in which Jesus counsels enemy love.
Love is not something you feel but something you do, regardless of how you feel.
You see, Jesus’ admonition to love enemies is anything but passive. To understand this, it is important to understand the biblical notion of love — which is not primarily a feeling (as if you could command a feeling). Love is not something you feel but something you do, regardless of how you feel. What Jesus has in mind is action for the common good in socially marginal situations where a power imbalance demands creative tactics for change. So when Jesus says, “If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also,” he is not counseling passivity but rather a creative response to an abuse of power.
I’ve learned from community organizing that if someone is using power against you, they either expect you to be passive or fearful — so do neither. Love in this situation entails finding a way to work for the common good. Turning the other cheek is, indeed, forcing the common good. In the ancient world, if a person in power struck an inferior on the cheek, they most likely used a back-handed slap, aimed not to injure but to dishonor and humiliate. Thus, Jesus advises turning the cheek, forcing those in power to hit you with an open hand like an equal, recognizing your dignity.
In short, “turning the other cheek” means taking creative, imaginative action that exposes and breaks the cycle (and systems) of violence, forcing those abusing power to recognize and respect the equality and dignity of others.
Another thing I’ve learned from community organizing is that “there are no permanent enemies and no permanent friends” in public relationships. A public relationship is one in which the common good is at stake, requiring people to be accountable to each other. Public relationships can be found in leadership in the religious and civil arenas.
Elected public officials, for example, can be held accountable for the common good by their constituents. If they have promised to do something for the common good but either reneged on the promise or failed to take a stand on an issue that aligns with their stated public ideals, creative public gatherings can be orchestrated that will bring them face-to-face with their constituents, where they can be pressed on matters of accountability. In this context, when public figures have proved to be adversaries rather than servants of the common good, turning the other cheek entails creative thinking and action that will provide opportunities for constituents to hold them accountable for the common good and call out for abuses of power.
More can be said here. Loving the enemy, whoever they may be, and no matter how morally bereft that person is construed to be, is part of what it means to love one’s neighbor. Amy Jill Levine puts it this way in Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi: “Can we finally agree that it is better to acknowledge the humanity and the potential to do good in the enemy, rather than to choose death? Will we be able to care for our enemies, who are also our neighbors?” Moreover, the enemy is not a monolith — there is a dynamism to one who is construed as an enemy, just as there is in what we know to be true about ourselves.
Have you ever changed your mind or heart about something or someone? Really changed? I have. While it is true that in some cases, we may have to pressure public figures to do the right thing, we should never discount the possibility that they might be changed in doing so.
Or let’s put that another way: have you ever been compelled internally by conscience or by external forces to do the right thing to correct a wrong — and found yourself changed in the process? This dynamic is, I think, what being a Christian is about: conversion. So, loving one’s enemy sometimes means loving yourself! After all, loving us as enemies is what God does. As Paul tells us, “While we were enemies we were reconciled to God” in Christ (Romans 5:10).
Abraham Lincoln attended the church I served for many years in Washington, D.C., The New York Avenue Presbyterian Church. His memory is revered there, as it is throughout the nation. At this moment of dire political turbulence in our country that threatens to erode democracy itself, I find myself recalling Lincoln’s healing words during an earlier moment of turmoil in the nation’s history as he delivered his Second Inaugural Address: “With malice towards none; with charity to all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds.”
This admonition is as powerful today as it was in the troubled era in which Lincoln spoke. Indeed, it resonates profoundly with Jesus’ admonition to disciples to love our enemies. And in the present moment, our perceived enemies may have become those who stand on one side or the other of the nation’s political divide, a divide represented in most of our churches, our denomination, and in all the communities in which we live. Reaching across that divide is hard work, but it is our calling if we are to love our enemies.
Loving our enemies is integral to the pursuit of justice, standing in solidarity with the marginal in our midst, and naming evil as evil — especially if our enemies might become our friends in the process.
Finally, and emphatically, loving our enemies also entails pursuing justice, standing in solidarity with the marginalized among us, and calling evil by its name. In fact, loving our enemies is integral to the pursuit of justice, standing in solidarity with the marginal in our midst, and naming evil as evil — especially if our enemies might become our friends in the process. Identifying and addressing instances of oppression is critical, particularly when we have been complicit in that oppression. Even, in other words, when we have been the enemy, for in so doing, we might become a friend.
Questions for reflection on Luke 6:27-38:
- How have you heard the concept of enemy love interpreted in the past?
- When you think of “enemies” and adversaries, who comes to mind?
- What might “turning the other cheek” look like in the context of your life and ministry? If you discern abuses of power in your context, what imaginative, creative actions might be taken to break the cycle of violence?
- How might the notion of “no permanent enemies and no permanent friends” inform challenges you face in your ministry context? How might the notion of “no permanent enemies” reflect the dynamic of conversion?
- What might enemy love, as explored in this essay, look like amid current political polarizations impacting your church or community?
- How can enemy love include naming evil, standing with the marginal, and pursuing justice in your community?
View the corresponding Order of Worship for the Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany
Sign up for worship resources in your inbox every Monday.
