Loving our enemies

There are some people in this world I just don’t like. Of course, I’m reasonably confident that I fall into an unliked category or two myself.

So it goes.

The reigning philosophy is that you can’t like everybody – so don’t worry about it. The Christian modification to the reigning philosophy is hate the sin but love the sinner. Love your enemies. Yeah, right.

I’ve had a lot of trouble with that love your enemies business. It’s easier for me to understand things like “Cross me once, shame on you; cross me twice, shame on me” and “I don’t get mad, I just get even.” These concepts seem imminently more practical – you know what I mean?

Besides, Jesus had people He obviously didn’t like: like some Pharisees, for example. St. Peter had pretty much contempt for people who sidled up to new Christians and tried to take advantage of their newfound innocence and lead them back to the old way.

Thomas Merton tells the story in “Seven Storey Mountain” about the fat man who entered the Monastery of Gethsemani the same time he did. Merton said the fellow used to sleep during the night Office. It was obvious Merton didn’t like him, and he even kind of gloated when the guy washed out.

Then, though, there are the St. Theresa stories. The Little Flower was bothered by the nun in the choir whose teeth kept clacking. She offered that up, her biographers tell us. There was also a certain nun in the cloister Theresa simply couldn’t stand.

The nun of the saint’s displeasure apparently also had the distinction of not being well liked in her community in general. So it was, however, Theresa was assigned to work alone in the kitchen with guess who.

The story goes that St. Theresa found her kitchen companion a truly irritating individual. Nevertheless, after some time, Sister Irritation approached Theresa wanting to know why she alone, among all the nuns in the convent, was the only one who liked her.

There you have it, folks. All that’s required in dealing with people you don’t like is heroic sanctity.

Well, not possessing heroic sanctity, these patient endurance methods have left me in a pickle. I’ve had to search out other ways. I mean, not liking somebody hurts – if not them, then certainly me.

It seemed to me that there ought to be a Christian technique at least as practical as the vengeful, cold-shoulder, resentful scenarios that breathe up out of hell.

By golly, I’ve found one. Guaranteed, foolproof, works every time. Just follow these simple, easy-to-read instructions:

– Think of somebody you don’t like and pray for them.
– When I’ve got a good resentment going, I say this prayer every day:

“O Lord, give _______ every good thing I would want for myself and my family. Give them peace in their heart and health in their mind and body. Keep them free from harm and shelter them from all anxiety. Keep them healthy and happy. And yes, Lord, bring us together to eternal life with You.”

– I’ve found that if I pray this, even if I have to grit my teeth to do it, the hurtful feelings go away.

I’ve found that after a few weeks, the object of my prayer may still be a jackass, but my attitude toward them has changed. I may continue to dislike what a person does, but the person they are in Christ is more apparent to me. That must be hating the sin, but loving the sinner.

There are still people around who rub me the wrong way. I don’t like them, don’t want to be with them. But what I mean by that is different after praying for them. It’s what they do that bothers me. In and of themselves, I know that God loves them as much as He loves me.

written by Thomas A. Russell
first published in the Lafayette Sunday Visitor on September 7th, 1986