The Bigger Person Luke 6:27-38 Rev. Dr. Rhonda Abbott Blevins February 23, 2025

The Bigger Person
Luke 6:27-38
Rev. Dr. Rhonda Abbott Blevins
February 23, 2025

“But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat 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 asks of you, and if anyone takes away what is yours, do not ask for it back 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 expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again.  Instead, 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, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven;  give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

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A priest is giving a homily based on Jesus’s command to love your enemies.

“Now,” he says, “I’ll bet that many of us feel as if we have enemies in our lives,” he says to the congregation. “So raise your hands,” he says, “if you have many enemies.” And quite a few people raise their hands. “Now raise your hands if you have only a few enemies.” And about half as many people raise their hands. “Now raise your hands if you have only one or two enemies.” And even fewer people raised their hands. “See,” says the priest, “most of us feel like we have enemies.”

“Now raise your hands if you have no enemies at all.” And the priest looks around, and looks around, and finally, way in the back, a very, very old man raises his hand. He stands up and says, “I have no enemies whatsoever!” Delighted, the priest invites the man to the front of the church. “What a blessing!” the priest says. “How old are you?”

“I’m 98 years old, and I have no enemies.” The priest says, “What a wonderful Christian life you lead! And tell us all how it is that you have no enemies.”

“All those jerks have died!”

Of all the teachings we have from Jesus, this “love your enemies” might be the most difficult. This is the one that, just when you think you’ve arrived—that you’ve perfected the Christian life—this sneaks up on you in the form of negative feelings, a snarled nose, outright disdain, or simply a sense of “being better than” that person or people. Ask me how I know this. OK. Don’t ask. I’m not ready for confession this morning.

The burning question for me upon hearing this difficult teaching is simply, “How?” Jesus tells us to love our enemies, but he doesn’t give us step-by-step instructions for how. Sure, he offers, “Bless those who curse you,” and “pray for those who abuse you.” But this teaching leaves me feeling like I just bought a new desk from Ikea, which came home in the form of several boxes and a gazillion pieces, and no instruction manual. “How can I build this desk without instructions?” “How do I love my enemy, exactly, Jesus?”

Here’s something fascinating that modern science has discovered: when we make efforts to understand those we consider enemies, our brains actually activate the same neural pathways as when we think about friends. Isn’t that remarkable? It suggests that even biologically, we’re designed to bridge divides rather than maintain them. Our brains are actually wired for reconciliation, not perpetual enmity.

And this brings me to an important truth about loving our enemies: it’s like progressive weight training. You don’t start by lifting the heaviest weights. You begin with what you can manage—perhaps just acknowledging their humanity. Then gradually, as your ‘love muscles’ strengthen, you can take on heavier weights: offering forgiveness, showing compassion, and eventually, genuinely wishing them well. Just as you wouldn’t walk into a gym for the first time and try to deadlift 300 pounds, you shouldn’t expect to immediately feel deep love for someone who has hurt you deeply. It’s a process, and it requires consistent spiritual exercise.

One misunderstood part of this teaching is the part where Jesus tells his followers, “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.” Does Jesus really want us to be doormats? I don’t think so.

To understand the “strike you on the cheek” lesson, we need to think about the context—the who, what, when, and where Jesus was teaching. He primarily taught those in the peasant class. Some of them were slaves with masters. All of them were subject to the Roman soldiers known for their violent, oppressive ways. So Jesus taught, if a soldier strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also. But think about it, to offer the other cheek also is a sign of strength, even defiance. It taunts the one who hit. It says, “You can hit me, but you will not defeat me.” This is no “Be a doormat” lesson.

In the same way, the Roman soldiers could take whatever they wanted from the peasants they lorded over. It was quite commonplace for a soldier to demand the outer garment. Jesus suggests to his followers that when that happened, to offer the inner garment as well. You’d be in your skivvies, but the soldier is the one who would be shamed in the defiant act of generosity.

What Jesus is asking of his followers is to be “the bigger person.”

So back to the question of “How do we love our enemies?” I think the answer, at least at some level, is that in order to love our enemies we must possess tremendous strength of character. Only with great strength of character could you offer the other cheek. Only with great strength of character could you offer your inner garment as well as the outer. Only with great strength of character could any of us bless those who curse us and pray for those who abuse us. Strength of character is how we take the high road in difficult human relationships. Relating to others out of that kind of groundedness is actually liberating. We find freedom when we’re strong enough to be the bigger person.

Speaking of freedom, I think many of us believe ourselves to be free, when we’re not on many levels.

A few years ago, I had a dream. In this dream I was in a theme park ride, kind of like a maze—think one of those large hamster habitats with lots of tunnels. I was moving through this maze on a track, riding in an open cart. I was being carried along in this maze, not by my own strength, but passively, wherever the track would take me. Eventually I ended up in a large space within the maze, with dozens of other people. We were divided into two groups, seated, the two groups facing each other. One side was being instructed to yell, “Build the wall!” The other side was instructed to yell, “Stop the wall!” After a time, the groups switched, and yelled the opposite of what they were first instructed to yell.

As I was yelling the thing that didn’t align with my own thinking, I found myself beginning to embody the “other side.” I found myself becoming one with those with whom I disagree. Finally, I woke up and thought, “That was weird!”

Now let’s psychoanalyze this dream. Who here thinks the meaning of this dream is, “Pastor Rhonda is whackadoodle?” In line with being whackadoodle, I believe this dream may offer some insight to us this morning.

First, as a passive traveler through the maze, I had no agency—no choice where I would go. I was simply along for the ride. And I think that’s how many if not most of us live. We passively absorb content through televisions and computer monitors, smart phones and radios. We mindlessly immerse ourselves in all of this content until finally, our thoughts are not our own. Our views are shaped and formed by media of all kinds. When this happens, how free are we, really?

Secondly, when I found myself surprisingly one with “other side,” it was because I found myself chanting their chant, walking in their shoes if you will. My judgment dissipated.

My takeaway from this was being reminded of something I learned some time ago . . . our attachments cause our suffering. Attachment to my ideas about “the wall,” for instance, sets me at odds with those who disagree with me. Because I am attached to my ideas . . . which are merely constructs . . . I sometimes designate those on the other side as “enemies.” And who suffers when I designate someone as my enemy? Me! Here’s how psychologist Gail Brenner describes this:

“I have made a very interesting discovery. Whenever I have a reaction to anything – a person or situation, something someone says or does, I am attached. I am holding a belief or expectation that things should go a certain way or that a given outcome should occur. I want what I want, and in that attachment, I suffer . . . Simply said, when we make our happiness dependent on people, money, success, possessions, or circumstances, we suffer. Attachments are sticky. Our freedom goes out the window, and we react emotionally and maneuver to get what we want and reject what we don’t want. Oh, if only the world would cater to our personal desires. Just for a moment, imagine being free of attachments. Things come and go, but you are stable and unmoving in the midst of it all. It doesn’t mean you don’t care. In fact, in the lack of clinging, you are free to care deeply. The most intimate state of being is devoid of the separation that attachment brings.”

What Brenner calls “the most intimate state of being” is what Jesus simply calls “love.” Love is “being devoid of the separation that attachment brings.” Jesus tells us to love our enemies. The problem is, we’re attached to our hatred or disdain. We’re attached to our judgments, our ideas. To love our enemies requires us to let go of these attachments.

Prayer helps—particularly contemplative prayer. In contemplative prayer, the goal is to empty your mind of thoughts in order to find yourself connected more deeply to Absolute Being (God). One illustration used in teaching beginners: imagine standing on the side of a busy, congested road with many lanes of traffic. You can notice the cars drive by, without getting in any of them. In the same way in contemplative prayer, as you empty your mind, when thoughts or ideas enter your mind, you notice them, but you don’t attach to them. In the same way you can notice the cars driving by without getting inside any of them.

I’m no contemplative prayer master, but I know that this practice of not attaching to thoughts or ideas in prayer helps us let go of attachments of all kinds in our daily living—including our attachments to judgment and disdain.

Mark Nepo writes, “The glassblower knows: while in the heat of beginning, any shape is possible. Once hardened, the only way to change is to break.” Once we become hardened towards another person or people, the only way we can change—the only way we can love our enemy—is to break. We must break ourselves of thought patterns that keep us stuck in bitterness and hatred. To grow stronger in our faith—to love like Jesus tells us we must—we must break old patterns. We must shatter our thought patterns that keep us stuck as spiritual wimps. The result of doing this difficult spiritual work? How does Jesus say it?

“Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High.”

So beloved children of the Most High, my challenge and my prayer for us today, is that each of us might grow in our capacity to be “the bigger person.” May we each find the strength to break old patterns, that we might live more fully the life of love to which we were called.

And remember, just as with weight training, progress comes gradually. Start with the weight you can manage today—perhaps just recognizing your shared humanity. Your spiritual muscles will grow stronger with each rep, each practice of choosing love over hate, understanding over judgment, connection over division.

Our very brains are designed for this transformation. We just need the courage to begin.