Radical Love
Preached by Jason Abbott
February 12, 2017
About a year or so ago, Natalie and I watched the independent film Calvary. It tells the story of a man who has become a priest following the death of his wife, and by all accounts is a good priest. Yet, despite attempts to love the congregants in the small Irish village in which he pastors, he begins to receive death threats from an unidentified member of the parish. (Spoiler Alert!)The drama climaxes when the day arrives in which the priest has been told he will finally face the anonymous parishioner and pay for the sins of the church which he represents. And, sure enough, they do meet, and the priest is murdered. An innocent man dies for the sins of the guilty.Yet, as the film ends with a montage of events taking place after the murder, one of the most radical scenes shows the daughter of the priest visiting the man who killed her father in order to offer him love and forgiveness. The scene’s given to us without comment, without explanation. Just given! And it’s very profound. What could empower such radical and sacrificial love from the priest’s daughter? What could make us love even our worst enemies? Well, let’s look at this passage of Scripture to find out. (It’s on page 979 in the brown Bibles.)
Luke 6:27-36
27 “But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. 29 To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either. 30 Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. 31 And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.32 “If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. 35 But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. 36 Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.
We’re going to hang our thoughts about such radical love on 2 hooks today: (1st) on a radical security which empowers love and (2nd) on a radical image which requires love. Let’s look at both.
1. A radical security (vv. 27-31)
Last Tuesday afternoon I popped into Benjamin’s office in order to ask him if he could think of a more challenging command in all of Scripture than this one—to love your enemies. After a few moments in which we both gazed at our eyelids (And why do people do that when thinking anyway?! It’s really strange, isn’t it?) . . . anyhow, after those odd moments, we concluded there’s likely not a command which is more difficult to live out than loving your enemies.It’s unsettling even to think about:
Do good for those who hate you.
Bless those who curse you.
Pray for those who abuse you.
The very idea of this calling challenges our security: I have rights, we think. People who do such things to me should pay, we think. So it’s certainly not natural for us to engender these commands of Jesus. Consequently we usually don’t.As Christians we’ve largely failed at this call to love those who persecute us. If you don’t believe me, let’s not consider how we treat those outside the church. Rather, let’s consider how we regularly treat our own brothers and sisters in Christ when they cross us. We’ll shut them out. We’ll gossip about them. We’ll daydream about them getting what they deserve. We’ll even leave church because of them. And again, this isn’t how we treat our enemies but how we treat the family of God! So clearly we’re not good at obeying the command to love our enemies.And here’s why—We’re not trusting in God. We’re not finding our security in Christ. Instead, we trust in something or in someone else. We find our security in something or someone else. We don’t follow or obey these commands of Jesus because we don’t really believe that he knows what’s best for us. In other words, we don’t think he’s right about this one. Oh . . . we may never admit we doubt Jesus, but the proof is in the pudding of our practice.Yet, here’s how finding radical security in Christ helps us love our enemies, whether we find them outside or inside the walls of the church.First of all, when I find my security in Christ, I begin to really know myself. I start seeing my sins more clearly, and my rebellion against God more clearly. Thus, to put it in everyday language, I begin to grasp that I’m not all that and a bag of chips. I’m often offensive. I’m often selfish. I’m naturally a pretty good enemy without having to try much. This is who I am. This is who you are.
So in light of all this, to love my enemy is to love someone a lot like me. To say that that person doesn’t deserve forgiveness is to say that I don’t. And I certainly don’t want to say that!
Second, when I find my security in Christ, I begin to grasp what God thinks about me. And despite the sinfulness and jerkiness to which I am naturally prone, God loves and values me, because of Jesus, even above my ability to comprehend. In other words—God has loved and will love me even though I’ve been nothing but an enemy to him my whole life.
So, because of God’s unmerited and unfailing love for me in Christ Jesus, to love my enemy is to love as God loves me. I can thus love my enemy and be hated in return since my value isn’t based upon human approval, but, rather, on God’s irrevocable love which is forever mine in Christ.
Finally, when I find security in Christ, I don’t have to worry about my rights or my justice. If I’m struck on one of my cheeks, I can offer them the other as well. If someone takes my cloak, I can give the perpetrator my tunic to go right along with it. I can give and forgive without bitterness. How so?
Because—when my security is in Jesus, when I truly trust Christ’s words, I know that justice will ultimately prevail. It’ll either be done at the cross when that person who wronged me trusts Jesus to cleanse him of his sins (just like I once did). Or, it will be done on the day of Christ’s return when Jesus will judge the sins of all who refuse to repent. In either case, it’s no longer my concern—for justice will be done.
This is truly a radical security which empowers us to love even our enemies. But, won’t such a security, keep us from working for justice right now? Not at all!The assurance that Jesus will one day judge all crimes with perfect justice doesn’t mean that Christians neglect the pursuit of justice in the meantime. In fact, Christ’s assurance of final justice drives us to seek it now. So, believers can work for justice while praying like Jesus taught us to pray: God, your kingdom come; God, your will be done—on earth as it is in heaven.Furthermore, what kinds of people do we really want working for justice? Those who are bitter? Those who are vindictive? Those looking to settle a score? No . . . we want those who can be evenhanded and discerning—those who aren’t looking for personal vengeance. We want those who possess a radical security. Friends, we, in the church, should be just this kind of people. The kind of people who simultaneously seek justice and mercy.Philip Yancey shares the story of a South African woman whose husband and son were murdered by the same police officer simply because they were black. She had to witness this brutality as he took these loved ones from her.Under the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which was set up to bring about restorative justice to a deeply divided nation, this police officer was brought to trial; and this woman, who had had so much taken from her, finally had her day of reckoning. First, the officer took the stand confessing the details of his crimes. Then the woman was invited to respond to this man’s confession. Yancey recounts what happened next. He writes:
The courtroom grew hushed as the elderly woman...was given a chance to respond. “What do you want from [the officer]?” the judge asked. She said she wanted [him] to go to the place where they burned her husband’s body and gather up the dust so she could give him a decent burial.
Then she added a further request, “[The policeman] took all my family away from me, and I still have a lot of love to give. Twice a month, I would like for him to come to the ghetto and spend a day with me so I can be a mother to him. And I would like [this man] to know that he is forgiven by God, and that I forgive him too. I would like to embrace him so he can know my forgiveness is real.”1
Friends, this is loving one’s enemy; this is Jesus’ command put into practice. However, this isn’t ignoring justice, is it. This isn’t letting evil go unpunished, is it. Rather, it’s a radical mixture of justice and mercy. It’s a picture of the good news of Jesus being lived out. But, such a living out of the gospel takes radical security in the person and the work and the promises of Jesus. If you follow Jesus Christ, then you’re called to this type of radical security.Well, let’s turn now to the final idea.
2. A radical image (vv. 32-36)
Let me reread the last few verses again. Jesus says to his followers:
If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful (vv. 32-36).
A couple of weeks ago I believe I made a rather embarrassing confession about my often critical nature. Well, today I’m going to confess something else. Namely that I’m a big “hold-the-door-open-for-others” guy.So imagine you’re coming into a coffeehouse and I’m leaving a coffeehouse, and we get to the door at the same time. I will go out of my way to hold the door for you. I mean I’ve done square-dance moves in order to hold the door for others. That’s how dedicated I am about it.However, woe to you if I “do-si-do” so as to hold the door so you can enter, and then you neglect to say thank you to me. I’ll all but call down fire from heaven upon you if that happens. My wife can tell you stories of people walking past me without acknowledging me and how I react. Often I’ll facetiously say no problem or you’re welcome or have a nice day. That’s me.What does this say about me? Well, it says I’m a lot like the type of people whom Christ describes here. Jesus says, Even sinners hold doors like that, Jason.Essentially, Jesus is saying that such an ethic is merely a self-loving ethic—doing good solely for what we get from it. I’ll be nice to others because I want nice from others. Jesus bluntly asks us:
Who doesn’t love those who love them?
Who doesn’t do good to others to get good from others?
Who doesn’t give away what they’ll surely get back?
Basically Jesus says, Any schmuck does these things! But if you follow me, then you must be radically different. You must look radically different than that. You must behave like sons and daughters of the Most High.That’s the radical image that should be reflected in the followers of Christ. The Church is to be strangely different.
Loving when we know there won’t be love in return.
Doing good when we know we will be hated and mocked for it.
Giving away what we have no hope of getting back or being repaid for.
And to be clear, there are non-Christians who behave in these kinds of ways; but, if you ask them why they live like this, they’ll surely say, Because I want to. Because it makes me feel good. And friends, as sweet as their altruistic impulse is, make no mistake about it—it’s merely another form of self-love: I and me motives in the end.But not with you who follow Jesus. We can’t simply choose to live like this when we feel like it. We must live like this for others because Christ lived like this for us. We must treat others this way because God in Christ has treated us this way. So Paul reminds us: Christ died for us while we were still sinners (Romans 5:8). Our motive must not be I or me—but Christ’s glory.As we close, let me simply point out that when Jesus was teaching this ethic, he was simultaneously living this ethic. This would have been lost on his audience, but it certainly wasn’t lost on him. He knew what was to come. He knew the cost. Every step he took was a step closer to the cross. It was a move toward the enemies who would mock him and spit upon him and slap him and flog him and nail him to a cross—so that those enemies might be made free and whole and alive again. This is the radical image of Christ that we’re called to bear. Amen.
1 You can read a fuller account of Yancey’s story here.
