Psychologists at Princeton Theological Seminary conducted a test in 1973. Seminary students were told to arrive at a building across campus, where they would need to give a short talk about the parable of the Good Samaritan. Along the way, each student encountered a man huddled in a doorway, coughing and in distress. He was an actor hired by the psychologists. Among the seminary students rushing to arrive in time to deliver their Good Samaritan message, only 10 percent stopped to help the man in need.
There are numerous conclusions to draw from the study, including this one: Love in theory is easy. Love in practice is hard. When asked, I’m sure all the seminary students affirmed the theoretical importance of loving strangers in need, but when presented with a particular person in the actual reality of rushing to an on-campus appointment, far fewer actually loved a stranger in need.
I think the same disconnect likely applies to Jesus’ words about loving our enemies. Affirming this command in the Sermon on the Mount is easy, but actually doing it is something else entirely. In The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoyevsky wrote about the ease of loving “humanity” while simultaneously hating actual humans:
“The more I love humanity in general the less I love man in particular. In my dreams, I often make plans for the service of humanity, and perhaps I might actually face crucifixion if it were suddenly necessary. Yet I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together. I know from experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs me and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he’s too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to me. But it has always happened that the more I hate men individually the more I love humanity.”
It’s one thing to love an opponent from a distance, to wish a political leader from the opposite party no harm, or to even pray for that online influencer who triggers your anger. But a much deeper reservoir of grace is needed to love the adversaries in our immediate vicinity; the everyday enemies in our households, workplaces, and communities. Jesus is not calling us to love humanity, but to love the annoying humans who interfere with our wills and obstruct our desires with mundane regularity. That means loving the inconsiderate spouse, the self-centered teenager, and the absent-minded child. It is a call to love the disrespectful boss and the demanding client. It means recognizing the presence of the ordinary enemies we encounter every day and choosing to love them in practice not just in theory.
Daily Scripture
Matthew 5:43–48
Romans 5:6–11
Weekly Prayer
From John of the Cross (1542 - 1591)
I no longer want just to hear about you, beloved Lord, through messengers. I no longer want to hear doctrines about you, nor to have my emotions stirred by people speaking of you. I yearn for your presence. These messengers simply frustrate and grieve me, because they remind me of how distant I am from you. They reopen wounds in my heart, and they seem to delay your coming to me. From this day onwards please send me no more messengers, no more doctrines, because they cannot satisfy my overwhelming desire for you. I want to give myself completely to you. And I want you to give yourself completely to me. The love which you show in glimpses, reveal to me fully. The love which you convey through messengers, speak it to me directly. I sometimes think you are mocking me by hiding yourself from me. Come to me with the priceless jewel of your love.
Amen.
