Sermon for February 23, 2025
Readings:
I have to admit this morning that I kind of feel that preaching on this gospel passage is a little above my pay grade. Everything that Jesus has to say is important, but these words are extremely important. These words are the foundation stone of Christian morality and ethics. They are simultaneously the most often quoted words of Jesus, and the most often ignored. It is hard for me to preach on this passage, because I struggle with this too. Just this week I found out about something bad happening to someone that I would consider an enemy, someone I intensely dislike, and you know what it felt good. It felt really good for a minute, when I thought YES, this person is getting what he deserves. Karma! But then the gospel reminds me that God is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Jesus says to “be merciful, just as your father is merciful.” Jesus doesn’t offer us any exemptions on loving our enemies and praying for them. This morning’s gospel is familiar, but very, very hard. It tells us to do things that are unfair and that we don’t want to do. So I am turning to someone else for help this morning, one of my favorite authors, C. S. Lewis. What he has to say on this is better than anything that I could come up with. He writes:
Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive, as we had during the war. And then, to mention the subject at all is to be greeted with howls of anger. It is not that people think this too high and difficult a virtue: it is that they think it hateful and contemptible. ‘That sort of talk makes us sick,’ they say.
But right in the middle of Christianity, I find ‘Forgive us our sins as we forgive those that sin against us.’ There is no slightest suggestion that we are offered forgiveness on any other terms. It is made perfectly clear that if we do not forgive we shall not be forgiven. There are no two ways about it. What are we to do? We might make it easier by trying to understand exactly what loving your neighbour as yourself means. I have to love him as I love myself. Well, how exactly do I love myself?
Now that I come to think of it, I don’t exactly have a feeling of fondness for myself. So apparently ‘Love your neighbour’ does not mean ‘feel fond of him’. I ought to have seen that before, because, of course, you cannot feel fond of a person by trying. Do I think well of myself, think myself a nice chap? Well, I am afraid I sometimes do (and those are, no doubt, my worst moments) but that is not why I love myself. In fact it is the other way round: my self-love makes me think myself nice, but thinking myself nice is not why I love myself. So loving my enemies does not apparently mean thinking them nice either.
That is an enormous relief. For a good many people imagine that forgiving your enemies means making out that they are really not such bad fellows after all, when it is quite plain that they are. Go a step further. In my most clear-sighted moments not only do I not think myself a nice man, but I know that I am a very nasty one. I can look at some of the things I have done with horror and loathing. So apparently I am allowed to loathe and hate some of the things my enemies do. Now that I come to think of it, I remember Christian teachers telling me long ago that I must hate a bad person’s actions, but not hate the bad person: or, as they would say, hate the sin but not the sinner.
For a long time I used to think this a silly, straw-splitting distinction: how could you hate what a person did and not hate the person? But years later it occurred to me that there was one man to whom I had been doing this all my life—namely myself. However much I might dislike my own cowardice or conceit or greed, I went on loving myself. In fact the very reason why I hated the things was that I loved the person. Just because I loved myself, I was sorry to find that I was the sort of man who did those things. Consequently, Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty and treachery. We ought to hate them. But it does want us to hate them in the same way in which we hate things in ourselves: being sorry that the person should have done such things, and hoping, if it is anyway possible, that somehow, sometime, somewhere they can be cured.
Lewis goes on here to point out that sometimes we are disappointed to find out that someone isn’t quite as bad as we had hoped. It isn’t just that we hate our enemies; it’s that we want to hate them. We find a perverse joy in hating them. So we are determined to cling to that hatred, even against evidence. Lewis also says that it is perfectly fine to punish your enemies, and to fight them even to death if necessary, so long as what is motivating you is the good of another and not simply this perverse desire to “get ones own back.” To love your enemies, does not require you to become a doormat. It doesn’t require you to turn evil into good. It requires you to look at your enemies the way you look at yourself. To wish them well, even if they aren’t. He concludes talking about the need for Christians to suppress hatred:
I do not mean that anyone can decide this moment that they will never feel it anymore. That is not how things happen. I mean that every time it bobs its head up, day after day, year after year, all our lives long, we must hit it on the head. It is hard work, but the attempt is not impossible. Even while we punish we must try to feel about the enemy as we feel about ourselves—to wish that he were not bad, to hope that he may, in this world or another, be cured: in fact, to wish his good. That is what is meant in the Bible by loving him: wishing his good, not feeling fond of him nor saying he is nice when he is not.
Looking at Christian love the way C. S. Lewis does makes it seem a bit less daunting to me. I don’t have to try and muster affection for people who have done harm to me. I don’t have to ignore any damage or pain caused. I simply need to wish his or her good. It isn’t affection. It isn’t the same thing as the natural love we feel toward our friends and families. It is a supernatural love that teaches us to love the way that God loves. It requires grace. It is about always desiring good, even in the face of evil, and not succumbing to the evil itself.