Len Desroches, Toronto, ON

“Love your enemies” says Jesus. “Hate and destroy your enemies” say the ruling classes and their militaries – and many ordinary people.

The most explicit teaching of Jesus regarding maturity of love is when he says, “I know, I know what you’ve been told, ‘Love your neighbours and hate your enemies.’ But I say this to you: Love your enemies. Become as mature in love as God is.”

The early church lived the spirituality of love of enemy. We get a hint of that in the Letter to the Romans: “If your enemy is hungry, you should give him food; and if he is thirsty let him drink…Resist evil and conquer it with good.”

There were radical voices. Origen (185-254): “No longer do we take the sword against any nation, nor do we learn war any more…It is impossible for Christians to follow Mosaic Law in killing their enemies…The greatest warfare is not with human enemies, but with those forces which make people into enemies.”

During the early fourth century a powerful civil administrator from the city of Milan, a man named Ambrose, became a Christian. He later became the bishop of Milan. His writings drew greatly on Cicero’s De Officiis (On Social Roles). Ambrose’s writings in turn greatly influenced that of the renowned teacher Augustine (354-430), who wrote at great length about what has come to be known as the Just War concept.
Augustine also developed the principle of “compelle intrare” – forced conversion. In the 12th century, the tremendously influential Cistercian monk, St. Bernard de Clairvaux, son of a pious knight, at first hesitated, but then accepted this notion of “compelle intrare.”

In 1129, at age 39 – 55 years before Francis of Assisi’s birth – Bernard participates in the Council of Troyes called by Pope Honorius II. Bernard makes the Milites Templi – an order of monks bearing the sword – accepted by the council. This makes more definitive the notion of just war – and logically, holy war.

In 1145, one of Bernard’s former monks became Pope Eugene III. The pope called on Bernard to preach the Second Crusade. After some reluctance, Bernard did so with enthusiasm. Bernard was revered for his powerful sermons to the Christian warriors, the crusaders. He wrote the Ad Milites Templi, which was considered by some to be the ‘breviary’ of warfare for Christian knights. It is literally a manual of how proper Christian killing of enemies should take place. “Deus vult” “God wills it” was the crusaders’ motto. Preaching to the Second Crusade, St. Bernard declared: “No doubt the death of a saint is always precious in the eyes of God, wherever it occurs. But doesn’t it seem even more especially beautiful on a battle field, where its glory is greater?”

In direct contrast to Bernard, Francis of Assisi, having actually fought in a bloody war, had no illusions about the sanctity of war. Having languished horribly in jail as a political prisoner, he also had no illusions about the glory of war. After his conversion – his encounter with Christ – Francis renounced all war. This is especially remarkable because the crusades reached their climax during Francis’ lifetime. These were not just justified wars, these were “holy wars” – the holy killing of the church’s enemies.

After his conversion, Francis lives the mystery of love of enemy. He lives that mature love that Christ calls us to. It is very striking that he confronts love of enemy in either words or actions at least six time that we know of:

Firstly: “Everyone who comes to them, friend or enemy, vagrant or robber, must be made welcome.”

Secondly: “The brothers should make themselves vulnerable to their enemies.”

Thirdly: “They are not to take up lethal weapons, or bear them about, against anybody.”

Fourthly: Francis crosses the enemy lines to meet with the enemy, Sultan Malik al-Kamil – even though the pope and every bishop and priest relentlessly portrayed all Muslims as evil, godless and barbarous. The sultan is roughly the same age as Francis and is deeply religious like Francis. They form a deep friendship.

Fifthly: “Christ says in the Gospel, ‘Love your enemies.’ A person really loves his enemy when he is not offended by the injury done to himself, but for love of God feels burning sorrow for the sin his enemy has brought on his own soul, and proves his love in a practical way.”

Sixthly: Francis adds a new verse to his Canticle of Creation, in response to the potentially deadly conflict between the mayor and the bishop of Assisi who were beginning to treat each other as enemies: “Be praised, my God, for those who forgive through your love. Blessed are those who keep themselves in peace.”

He asks some friars to sing the canticle with this new verse to both the mayor and the bishop. Both are so deeply moved that they reconcile with each other.

What Jesus puts before us – love of enemy – is a mystery. Mystery implies exploration. Such exploration involves time, energy and money. We have given – and still give – time, energy and money to explore the mysteries of AI, of Outer Space and of the Atom.

Alienated from God – from Love – we feared and hated the enemy so intensely that we relentlessly explored the physical mystery of the Atom to see what it could offer to destroy the enemy. We finally discovered the atom bomb – nuclear weapons: there are 13,865 nuclear weapons in the world. Finally, after intense exploration, we could destroy millions of enemies in a very short time. All this time, we could have been exploring – instead of the physical mystery of the Atom – the spiritual mystery of love of enemy, which Christ puts before us.

Historically, it has become extremely urgent that we begin exploring the life-giving and world-changing mystery of love of enemy. An example of “world-changing”: There are 102.4 million Christians in Russia, 70 per cent of the population. What if all of them lived the mystery of love of enemy and refused to fight Putin’s war?

What will we discover? Love in a broken relationship? Friendship in our neighbourhood? The global “Beloved Community” that Martin Luther King spoke of? Ukrainians embracing Russians? Israeli Jews embracing Palestinians? Nothing less is needed!

Mystery! Exploration! We need to step right into this mystery – with our time, our energy and even our money – individually and collectively as church.

Let us hear some of the many witnesses of love of enemy. Archbishop Desmond Tutu stepped right into the mystery of love – of gospel nonviolence in the face of the empire of South Africa and its brutal system of apartheid. Tutu refused to hate and helped unleash the power of love in others: he helped give birth to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

In a culture that props up the myth of victory over the enemy as excitement, we hear too few of the powerful stories of reconciliation with the enemy. Stanley W. Green, originally from South Africa and later president of the U.S. Mennonite Board of Missions, told the story of an elderly South African woman who suffered terrible losses at the hands of a brutal murderer: “She stood in an emotionally charged courtroom, listening to a group of white police officers acknowledge the atrocities they had perpetrated in the name of apartheid.

Officer Van de Broek acknowledged his personal responsibility in the death of her son. Along with others, Van de Broek shot her 18-year-old son at point-blank range. The group partied while they burned his body, turning it over and over on the fire until it was completely reduced to ashes. Eight years later, Van de Broek and others arrive to collect her husband. A few years later, shortly after midnight, Van de Broek again appeared and took the woman to a place beside a river. On a woodpile her husband lay bound. They forced her to watch as they poured gasoline over his body and ignited the flames that consumed his body. The last words she heard him say were, “Forgive them.”

Now, Van de Broek stood before her awaiting judgment. Vengeance seemed inevitable. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission officers asked her what she wanted. “I want three things,” she said calmly. “I want Mr. Van de Broek to take me to the place where they burned my husband’s body. I would like to gather up the dust and give him a decent burial. Second, Mr. Van de Broek took all my family away from me and I still have a lot of love to give. Twice a month I would like for Mr. Van de Broek to come to the ghetto and spend a day with me so that I can be a mother to him. Third, I would like Mr. Van de Broek to know that he is forgiven by God, and that I forgive him too. And, I would like someone to come and lead me by the hand to where Mr. Van de Broek is, so that I can embrace him and he can know my forgiveness is real.” As they led the elderly woman across the silent courtroom, Van de Broek fainted, overwhelmed. In the courtroom, someone began singing “Amazing Grace.” Gradually, others joined in until, finally, everyone there was singing the familiar hymn.”

Then there is the story of Danielle Kane, a 31-year-old nursing student who was shot by the “Danforth Shooter,” 29-year-old Faisal Hussain on July 22, 2018 in Toronto. The bullet tore through her stomach and diaphragm and shattered part of her spine, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down.

Faisal Hussain suffered from severe mental health issues and family tragedies. He struggled with psychosis and depression. His sister was killed in a car accident. His older brother suffered a drug overdose that left him in a vegetative state.

In a CBC interview, aired July 21, 2019, Danielle reiterated that she felt sorry for Faisal: “It’s obvious that he was suffering. He had these issues for a long time, and he fell through the cracks. He was supposed to follow up with a forensic psychologist and that never happened. I think our system needs to be improved. I think that individuals like Faisal should have caseworkers or someone that they need to check in with regularly – whatever it is that they need to stay on track and not be so isolated as he was. I’ve been in really dark places. If you’re alone and you don’t have anyone to pull you out of that negative spiral, how far you can go down! I understand ‘cause I’ve been there. I haven’t been as far down as he has, clearly. But we all need community; we all need people to love us. I know it’s hard for other people to believe, but we need to bring in people like Faisal and love them.”

Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish had three of his daughters killed in Gaza by an Israeli bomb. He wrote a book entitled I Shall Not Hate. Refusing to hate is the first step into the mystery of love of enemy – along with the willingness to forgive. Refusing to hate and willing to forgive!

Let us listen to the radical wisdom of Miguel d’Escoto, Nicaraguan priest: “I don’t believe that nonviolence is something you can arrive at rationally. We can develop it as a spirituality and can obtain the grace necessary to practice it, but not as a result of reason. Not that it is anti-reason, but that it is not natural. The natural thing to do when somebody hits you is to hit them back. We are called upon to be supernatural. We reach that way of being, not as a result of nature, but of prayer. I have come to believe that creative nonviolence has to be a constitutive element of evangelization and of the proclamation of the gospel. The cancer of oppression and injustice and crime and exploitation was allowed to grow [in Nicaragua], and finally the people had to fight with the means available to them, the only means that people have found from of old: armed struggle. The church arrogantly said violence was bad, nonviolence was the correct way. But that spirituality and work with people’s consciences had never been done. We have no right to hope to harvest what we have not sown.”

“We are called upon to be supernatural!” To step right into the mystery of love of enemy!

Are most Christians afraid of the Christ that puts before them the mystery of love of enemy? Are most Christians depriving themselves of a full encounter with Christ; depriving themselves of what Martin Luther King called “a unique relationship with God”? A FULL encounter with Christ. Not just a PARTIAL encounter – avoiding, denying the mystery.

In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul says “Make no mistake about it: if any of you thinks of himself as wise, in the ordinary sense of the word, then he must learn to be a fool before he really can be wise. Why? Because the wisdom of this world is foolishness to God.” So what is the wisdom of this world? The Institution of War – universally hate and destroy the enemy; money for the military, not for a people’s Department of Nonviolent Defence – what J.S. Woodsworth referred to as the “new means of protecting our nations.” Saint Paul says “he must LEARN to be a fool…” Francis of Assisi: “God wanted me to become a new fool in the world.”

Martin Luther King: “Far from being the pious injunction of a utopian dreamer, the command to love one’s enemy is an absolute necessity for our survival. Love even for enemies is the key to the solution of the problems of our world…We should be happy that Jesus did not say “Like your enemies.” It is almost impossible to like some people. “Like” is a sentimental and affectionate word. How can we be affectionate toward a person whose avowed aim is to crush our very being and place innumerable stumbling blocks in our path? How can we like a person who is threatening our children and bombing our homes? This is impossible. But Jesus recognized that love is greater than like…Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive our hate; only love can do that.”

It is important, in nonviolent resistance, to refuse to hate even a Donald Trump or a Netanyahu or a Putin. But it is, at the same time, crucial to understand and admit that they are spiritually very sick and very dangerous. They must be resisted.

When we acknowledge that love of enemy can be extremely difficult and painful, we are touching directly on the very real mystery of the Holy Spirit, inviting us, urging us, to live community, including deep relationship with Love versus alienation from each other and from God. Again, Jesus says “Become as mature in love as God is!”
We sometimes – rarely – have to face the mystery of love of enemy alone. Even then the Spirit of God is with us, deeply, in the mystery: the stunning example of Franz Yagerstatter facing his execution for refusing to fight for Hitler, “God gives so much strength.” But love of enemy more often demands community. Further, it actually creates or nurtures community if encountered and lived fully. For example, that is the power of a deeply loving, fully committed parish community.