Do you and I have real enemies? Could they even be our neighbors? I’ve been reading the first several psalms this week, and it struck me how easily the psalmist referred to some people as enemies. Who ever says that these days? We’re so much more comfortable with pleading, “Why can’t we just get along?” What about diversity? What about multiculturalism? What about valuing everyone’s unique perspective on life?

It’s a sham, that’s what. It was always a sham. No matter who you are, there’s someone, somewhere, who would love to hurt you, destroy someone you love, or tear down something you believe in. You literally cannot value someone’s so-called “unique perspective on life” when their perspective includes destroying what matters most to you.

And even though it’s really uncomfortable to call that person your enemy, I can think of at least four reasons it’s good to face reality, and call a foe a foe.

Four Reasons It’s Good to Recognize We Have Enemies

First, it can help clarify what’s important to us. When we start thinking of someone as an enemy, we have to decide whether we really care that much about whatever it is that they’re attacking or threatening.

Jesus knew we had enemies; that’s why He told us to pray for them.

Second, we can be guided by the discomfort that comes with the thought. Are we exaggerating the problem? Is the person really that hostile toward us? If we re-think it, we may decide there’s nothing there worth considering them enemies after all.

Third, for those who really are enemies, it’s actually more respectful to say so than not. I honor my enemy more by acknowledging his beliefs and convictions than by denying them. If he’s set himself up in opposition to me, my values and the people I love, who am I to say he hasn’t?

Fourth, and most importantly, recognizing our enemies as such leads to crystal-clear guidance on how we should pray and act. Jesus said,

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 sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? … And if you salute only your brethren, what more are you doing than others?

Who Is My Enemy?

So then, who is my enemy? One easy answer is, it’s anyone who is actively hostile toward someone or some value I hold dear.

There are some people, for example, who want to scrape out all trace of religion from all walks of life. They want to stigmatize it to death. They want faith declared — and medically treated — as a mental illness.

I know some of them by name, and I’m not overstating a thing. I wrote about one quite recently here. These individuals are unremittingly hostile to Jesus Christ, which makes them hostile to me, as one who loves and serves Him. I didn’t ask for them to be my enemies; they chose it.

Which means, by God’s grace, Jesus’ command and Jesus’ own example, I am called to love them and to seek their very best, even as I continue standing firm against their distorted, anti-Christian beliefs and values.

My Enemy, My Neighbor

But I cannot forget the words that flashed across my mind immediately after I wrote the question above, “Who is my enemy?” For it is hauntingly similar — yet very different — to another one Jesus once answered. Remember: Jesus was very realistic. He knew we had enemies; that’s why He told us to pray for them. Yet no one asked Him, “Who is my enemy?” Maybe it was too obvious. Someone did ask Him, though, “Who is my neighbor?”

You know the story Jesus told in response: the Good Samaritan. And who was the neighbor in this story? It was a Samaritan — historically an enemy to the Jews who were asking the question.

Who, then, is my enemy? Among other things, he’s my neighbor. I didn’t say my neighbor is my enemy — I had to throw that in for Frank and Carla next door! Rather, he who is my enemy is also my neighbor, no matter where he lives.

My Neighbor Above All

There’s an atheist leader in Michigan I’ve known online for several years. We met for the first time last Saturday at a conference in Kalamazoo. It was almost like meeting an old friend. We sat drinking coffee together and chatting for quite some time.

Above all, we’re both created in the image of God, who loves us both equally and infinitely.

We talked about our families and our jobs. We talked about our backgrounds and beliefs. Now, he’s nowhere near as hostile to faith as some atheists I’ve known; but then, I’ve had enjoyable mealtime conversations with some of them, too.

Last Saturday I discovered again what I never want to forget: For all his online opposition to the faith I hold dear, my new-old friend is still my neighbor. We hold a whole lot of very important things in common. Above all, we’re both created in the image of God, who loves us both equally and infinitely.

Obviously we differ on some crucial matters. So, is he my enemy? I still hate to use that word, even though it’s true in certain ways that I cannot just sweep aside. He stands against something I would give my life for.

But even though Jesus didn’t say it in so many words, His message was clear. To whatever extent this atheist leader actively supports and campaigns for disbelief in God; to whatever extent he acts in hostility to beliefs I would die for; to that same extent, God calls me to love him and pray for him.

Is he my enemy? The Psalmist might have said so, and he wouldn’t have been wrong. But if he is my enemy, he’s still my neighbor. May I always treat him so — even as we disagree.

 

Tom Gilson is a senior editor with The Stream and the author of Critical Conversations: A Christian Parents’ Guide to Discussing Homosexuality with Teens (Kregel Publications, 2016). Follow him on Twitter: @TomGilsonAuthor.