Love Trumps Hate

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous." - Matthew 5:43-45 (NRSV)

There are days I worry that my utter frustration with a certain political party, and the voters that put them in power, has become a potent form of hatred.  I listen to the news, scroll though some vile facebook comments, and I can feel the rage coagulate into a red hot ball of cement that sits at the pit of my stomach. I am disgusted by the unrepentant selfishness and cruelty of my fellow Americans, and I wonder, do they act out of ignorance? Or worse, do they fully comprehend the consequences of their actions? 

I reflect on these emotions, recognizing the hypocrisy and cruelty within my own spirit, and yet, if one had to meet the standard of perfection to enforce moral accountability, justice would never be realized. No, moral conviction and petty judgement are not the same thing. It is entirely possible to respect someone and fundamentally disagree with them. 

That said, these days, I'm not so sure where my heart is. The ambiguity I have around this question matters to me. I take the life and teachings of Jesus seriously, and in Matthew 5 Jesus clearly tells his followers to love their enemies and pray for those who persecute God's people. I want to follow in Jesus' example, not just because he asks us to, but because when I do life becomes a more beautiful thing. 

So I ask myself, is there any part of me that has found a way to love my enemies? And that's when I remember what I do everyday:

I am a hospital chaplain. 

Every single day I encounter those that in this political climate I would readily call my enemies. I sit at their bedsides; I listen to their stories; I pray for their children. In spite of the ways I believe they have brought harm to God's people with their voices and their votes, I advocate for their human dignity. I hug them until my shoulder becomes a tearful, snotty mess. I do this day in and day out and I do it with love. 

I am not a saint, but I am tried of the self-righteous criticism that says dissent and disagreement are somehow un-loving, or un-Christian. So you can call me an ignorant, bleeding-heart snowflake, but I will still be there to support you when someone you love has taken their last breath, earnestly praying, earnestly loving. This to me is a better way to love you than shoving our disagreements under the rug for the sake of polite conversation. 

May this work be a sacrifice acceptable to the Lord.