Love an Enemy? Yeah, right?

by Julie Cramer

Her ex-husband called me, irate—over a birthday party.

For the past year my friend has been separated from her husband. In that year of friendship, he has accused us of being lovers; of her dating someone from our running group (attractive B.O. guys, yum); threatened to take their son and not tell her where he was going; and screamed so loudly and spoke with so much threat that I got pulled over by a cop for not turning the car we were in at a green light (the abusive tirade I overheard had me unfocused and rattling).

Today her soon-to-be-ex demanded to know if she was actually taking her son to a sleepover birthday party, or … what?! He wanted details. Emails. To go to the home. For sure, a father should know where, when, and with whom his child will be partying down on Fritos and cake icing. However, he also accused my friend of something other than, something sinister, something adulterous.

Unfortunately, we weren’t surprised. He wasn’t in control, and it made him as frenetic as a sexless bull.

Then, he called my work phone, irate, demanding a return call (since the party was for my nephew, I could confirm its validity). I drove home, asking God to calm my my nerves. I asked him for wisdom, for calmness, for self-control … for help not to cuss the #$%& out.

Here’s the hardest maxim of Christ: Love your enemy.

Over this past year, whenever I've encountered my friend's ex or prayed for their situation, I have felt God impress two scripture verses on me. I wrote them down, took a deep breath, and I called her ex back.

To my surprise, he gave me enough space that I shared these verses with him (thank you Holy Spirit!): Matthew 5:37 and Proverbs 22:24. The verse in Matthew is one a trusted friend of mine once gave to me: “Simply let your ‘yes’ be ‘yes,’ and
your ‘no,’ ‘no.’” I was inconsistent. People felt they could not rely on me. I devalued people by not valuing their time. As a hairy-warted people-pleaser, I still struggle with this. I canceled plans just last night within five minutes of having said, “yes.” I have much room to grow.

The proverb takes the cake of all birthday cakes: “Do not make friends with a hot-tempered man, do not associate with one easily angered.” My friend's ex intimidates in order to regain control. He belittles and degrades. He attacks you at the core of your dignity. And he’s a follower of Christ.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember Jesus doing that. I remember him getting pretty darn specific about people’s sin and hypocrisy, but I don’t recall him shredding someone’s imago dei. In fact, his truth-in-love tack—though painful—is strategic. He pulls back the bow of truth to lob his words at our hearts, to pierce us with conviction, to promote pain that leads to healing.

When I spoke to my friend’s ex, he persisted in telling me that I didn’t know the full picture, that I didn’t know what she was really like, what he was really like. Really? Don’t his actions speak loudly? I know when I lash out I am accountable for the lashings I inflict. I really am like that. Perhaps not always, but I deserve some hits to the heart. Yet he was unrelenting in “giving me some information.” He kept saying his behavior was in reaction to what she had done.

Do you hear that? The blame-shifting. “I did that because you ….” “It’s not really my fault because if you’d only heard what she’d said, if you only knew how much she’s hurt me throughout the years.”

I get it. I’ve been bruised. I’ve been mistreated. But I’ve also been the one—as one of my friends recently said—kicking shins and running for cover. I’ve sulked in the corner and nursed my crooked heart harder.

Birthdays are about celebrating a person whom God has created in his image. In this case, it was a little boy who, as a toddler, had cheeks like potato rolls warmed in butter. He no longer has those cheeks, but those blue-sky eyes and easy laugh. Would I use my "inappropriate" words if someone attacked him? You bet your @#$# I would and anything else I could get my hands on.

I find it difficult to love my enemy because in every case truth-in-love may take different forms. Do you remain silent? Do you confront? Do you sever ties? Depending on the situation, all options may be the most loving choice. Jesus knew this. That’s why it’s all in there: love your neighbor as yourself; don’t make friends with an easily angered man; don’t associate with fools; flee from evil; stand up for the oppressed.

All I know is that tonight God, through his Spirit, gave me wisdom and grace to see through an abuser to his dignity. He gave me guidance on how to approach him. He curbed my anger when I wanted to do to him the very thing he did to my friend—kill the spirit, tear down, shame and deface. I wanted him to hurt. To feel beneath me.

That's ugly, isn't it? Have you ever felt that way? Thankfully, I think it's normal. The Psalms are chock-full of revenge language. Injustic is injustice. Anger has a purpose. In this case, God helped bring my feelings to light and helped me to confess them to him before I confronted the ex-husband. Otherwise, truth-in-love without first confession becomes truth-in-self-centeredness.

All that to say what? Unfortunately, I don't think this "one" has a tidy ending. What I can offer is that whether we harm each other violently or subtlely, it may be best to ask God to reveal ourselves to us before we even try to open our mouths. Let’s admit. Let’s pray. Then let’s be brave in our relationships so that God's Word can sink its healing arrows into our hearts.

And when the enemy remains an enemy? When a loved one continues to ignore or deny his or her part in the hurt? All I can offer is what God is giving to me in this moment—post conversation with the irate ex and hurtling emotionally down the path of consuming the entire supply of chocolate cake donuts at the nearest Dunkin’s: I did what I could. I confessed. I asked. I followed through in the best way I knew how. And I tried to honor the high cost of God's grace.

Now, the rest is up to the party pooper.