Cat Goodrich
Faith Presbyterian Church of Baltimore, MD
February 23, 2025
Grace
Luke 6:27-38
One of the only times I can remember my dad getting upset with me about schoolwork was an essay I was supposed to write for Martin Luther King Day. I don’t remember what I’d written, but I’m guessing I’d waited until the last minute. Dad was always my editor, offering comments, encouragement, and suggestions for clarity. Reading the essay, he heaved a big sigh through his nose. His face got red and flushed. I think he even raised his voice, which was rare. He didn’t think I’d taken the prompt seriously enough and told me so – sharing how disappointed he was in me, and insisting I re-write it. He cared about me enough to challenge me to do better; he cared about the legacy of Dr. King enough to challenge me to spend more time seeking to understand it.
We do this for the people we care about, right? We don’t accept mediocrity because we know they’re capable of more. It is love for a subject that inspires teachers to teach; love for their students that enables teachers to continue despite long days, low pay, difficult parents, political culture wars playing out at school boards, and more.
Now, if we don’t care about someone, it’s easy to let them continue ambling along in mediocrity. In fact, complacency – doing nothing – is the path of least resistance. Challenging a person to do better is hard. You risk making them angry, and alienating them – no one wants to be the bad guy. But think about the times someone has helped you see room for improvement, and encouraged you along the path to reach your goals. Maybe it was a coach, a strong manager, a teacher, or a therapist. Maybe a parent, partner, or a sibling? It can be embarrassing to be corrected or challenged, but that is how we grow! And people who care enough to correct or challenge are a gift.
Our passage this morning is one of the most well-known lessons Jesus ever taught – and perhaps his most difficult teaching, too. In fact, many people find it impossible. Jesus looks out at the crowd of peasants who have gathered to hear him teach, to seek his healing power, and he tells them: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you… turn the other cheek…Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
This passage follows on the heels of the beatitudes, and it tells us how to be a disciple: how to share God’s love and grace in a world where love and forgiveness are not lauded, but instead are often seen as liabilities.
We are one month into a new administration that has not been shy about their desire for retribution. Rooting out the perceived “deep state” has led to tens of thousands of federal workers being fired or furloughed. Rhetoric around these firings would lead one to believe that public servants in the park service, CDC, Department of Education, Department of Justice, and our international development experts are not passionate, highly skilled employees but rather enemies of the state. Wasteful and fraudulent. The FBI agents who pursued charges against those who sought to disrupt the peaceful transfer of power, who stormed DC seeking to execute the house majority leader and brought a gallows to capitol hill for the vice president, who trashed the us capitol and attacked police officers – the agents who investigated those cases were fired for doing their job. These leaders have made it clear that they are seeking retribution, not repair, not restoration. Certainly not grace.
In this political climate, it is as if anyone who disagrees with me is my enemy. Not capable of neutrality, not capable of fulfilling their duty to uphold the law or carry out their job. Indeed, not even human. We see this dehumanization in the othering and silencing of trans people, in the claim that women and people of color in positions of power could not possibly have earned those positions. In the targeting and terrorizing of immigrant communities. It goes on and on.
And yet, Christ calls us to love our enemies, to bless those who hate us, and to turn the other cheek. Dr. King said, “far from being the pious injunction of a utopian dreamer, this command is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. Yes, love is the key to the solution of the problems of our world, love even for enemies.”
How on earth do we do this? How can we love our enemies with hearts that are broken? How do we expand our capacity to love?
When I was a second-year seminarian, I signed up for what was billed as a meditation study through the Danielson Institute at my school, Boston University. I admit that as a broke graduate student, I was motivated as much by the promise of compensation as I was by my curiosity about meditation. And I didn’t know it at the time, but I was committing to six weeks of lovingkindness practice.
It’s a practice where you take a few minutes each day to bask in the love and goodwill of someone who cares for you, and then to extend that feeling of love, first to someone toward whom you feel neutrally, and then, toward someone who irks you. Bring to mind someone in your life who cares for you. Imagine them smiling at you, vividly picture their presence. Soak in the love and the joy that they bring to you. Breathe in, and out. Notice how your body feels, any emotion that is coming up for you.
Then, imagine someone toward whom you don’t feel much of anything, and extend to them thoughts of goodwill, of well-being, of happiness. And, again, bring them to mind vividly as though they were right in front of you. Breathe in, and out. Notice how your body feels.
Finally, bring to mind someone who causes you distress. Notice how thinking of that person makes you feel and then, as you inhale, draw in the intention for this person to be truly happy, fulfilled, and joyful. And as you exhale, wish this person happiness, fulfillment, flourishing. Notice how that makes you feel, what comes up in you when you try to do that. Over time this practice will strengthen your ability to re-route your anger, and you will find that your capacity for love will grow. And that is the path to healing. The path to forgiveness, the path to wholeness. The path, ultimately, that will save us all.
When Jesus calls us to love our enemies, turn the other cheek- he is not calling on us to be doormats or to be passive in love. But instead, he is calling us to love as my dad loved me. Love which speaks the truth, and cares enough to hold another accountable to a higher standard. Love which says, we are better than this. Love which moves us to nonviolent resistance, love which refuses to stoop to dehumanization but radically humanizes the other side – and sees their fear, their love of power, their chaos and says – we are better than this. Love does not allow our own bodies and minds to be hijacked by hate, because it eats away at us! It’s not healthy! It steals our focus and productivity. Instead, our challenge for the coming week is to try this practice, to expand our capacity to love others, even our enemies.
Let us love with courage and conviction and intention. Because that is the path to liberation.