Love Your Enemies
Stories
Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit
Series V, Cycle C
Object:
But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you. If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High. (vv. 27-35a)
Corrie ten Boom was a prisoner at the Ravensbruck concentration camp during World War II. She was one of the fortunate ones who survived. Following the war, she returned to her homeland of Holland.
In 1947, she returned to a defeated Germany -- to a church in Munich -- with the message of God's forgiveness. It was a truth that they desperately needed to hear in that bitter, bombed-out land. She told them, "When we confess our sins, God casts them into the deepest ocean, gone forever. And even though I cannot find a scripture for it, I believe God then places a sign out there that says, 'NO FISHING ALLOWED.' "
The solemn faces stared back at her, not quite daring to believe in such mercy. There were never questions after a talk in Germany in 1947. People stood up in silence, and in silence they put on their coats and left the room.
But not this time. She saw a balding, heavyset man in a gray overcoat, clutching a brown felt hat between his hands. As he approached her, she recognized him. Mentally, he transformed into a blue uniform complete with a visored cap adorned with skull and crossbones. Suddenly she also saw Ravensbruck: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights; the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor; the shame of walking naked past this man. The man who was making his way forward had been a guard -- one of the cruelest guards.
Now he was in front of her. He thrust out his hand and said, "A fine message, Fraulein! How good it is to know that, as you say, all our sins are at the bottom of the sea!"
Rather than take his hand, she fumbled in her pocketbook. He continued, "You mentioned Ravensbruck. I was a guard there." He didn't recognize her from among the thousands of prisoners. He went on, "But since that time, I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well, Fraulein." Again he offered his hand as he said, "Will you forgive me?"
She knew what she had just said and that her sins had again and again been forgiven, but she stood there struggling to forgive. Her sister, Betsie, had died in that horrible place. How could he erase her slow, terrible death with a simple request?
Mere seconds passed, but time seemed eternal. She knew she had to forgive him. At home, in Holland, only those who were able to forgive their former enemies were able also to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as simple and horrible as that.
Still a coldness clutched her heart. She prayed silently, "Jesus, help me!" as she mechanically thrust her hand into his. As she did, an incredible thing took place. A current of love started in her shoulder, raced down her arm and sprang into their joined hands, then the healing warmth flooded her whole being, bringing tears to her eyes. She cried, "I forgive you, brother! With all my heart."
For a long moment they grasped each other's hands -- the former guard and the former prisoner. Corrie wrote, "I had never known God's love so intensely as I did then. But even so, I realized it was not my love. I had tried, and did not have the power. It was the power of the Holy Spirit."
As Jesus reminds us -- anyone can love a friend; loving an enemy is a greater task and the call of the Christian. It is not easy, but it is what sets us apart as believers. If we will attempt to love in faith, God will see us through.
(Corrie ten Boom, "Love Your Enemy" Guideposts magazine [Carmel, New York: Guideposts Associates, 1972])
Corrie ten Boom was a prisoner at the Ravensbruck concentration camp during World War II. She was one of the fortunate ones who survived. Following the war, she returned to her homeland of Holland.
In 1947, she returned to a defeated Germany -- to a church in Munich -- with the message of God's forgiveness. It was a truth that they desperately needed to hear in that bitter, bombed-out land. She told them, "When we confess our sins, God casts them into the deepest ocean, gone forever. And even though I cannot find a scripture for it, I believe God then places a sign out there that says, 'NO FISHING ALLOWED.' "
The solemn faces stared back at her, not quite daring to believe in such mercy. There were never questions after a talk in Germany in 1947. People stood up in silence, and in silence they put on their coats and left the room.
But not this time. She saw a balding, heavyset man in a gray overcoat, clutching a brown felt hat between his hands. As he approached her, she recognized him. Mentally, he transformed into a blue uniform complete with a visored cap adorned with skull and crossbones. Suddenly she also saw Ravensbruck: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights; the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor; the shame of walking naked past this man. The man who was making his way forward had been a guard -- one of the cruelest guards.
Now he was in front of her. He thrust out his hand and said, "A fine message, Fraulein! How good it is to know that, as you say, all our sins are at the bottom of the sea!"
Rather than take his hand, she fumbled in her pocketbook. He continued, "You mentioned Ravensbruck. I was a guard there." He didn't recognize her from among the thousands of prisoners. He went on, "But since that time, I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well, Fraulein." Again he offered his hand as he said, "Will you forgive me?"
She knew what she had just said and that her sins had again and again been forgiven, but she stood there struggling to forgive. Her sister, Betsie, had died in that horrible place. How could he erase her slow, terrible death with a simple request?
Mere seconds passed, but time seemed eternal. She knew she had to forgive him. At home, in Holland, only those who were able to forgive their former enemies were able also to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as simple and horrible as that.
Still a coldness clutched her heart. She prayed silently, "Jesus, help me!" as she mechanically thrust her hand into his. As she did, an incredible thing took place. A current of love started in her shoulder, raced down her arm and sprang into their joined hands, then the healing warmth flooded her whole being, bringing tears to her eyes. She cried, "I forgive you, brother! With all my heart."
For a long moment they grasped each other's hands -- the former guard and the former prisoner. Corrie wrote, "I had never known God's love so intensely as I did then. But even so, I realized it was not my love. I had tried, and did not have the power. It was the power of the Holy Spirit."
As Jesus reminds us -- anyone can love a friend; loving an enemy is a greater task and the call of the Christian. It is not easy, but it is what sets us apart as believers. If we will attempt to love in faith, God will see us through.
(Corrie ten Boom, "Love Your Enemy" Guideposts magazine [Carmel, New York: Guideposts Associates, 1972])
