Luke 6:27-36 · Love for Enemies
Anything Better Than the Golden Rule?
Luke 6:27-36
Sermon
by William G. Carter
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A few years ago, I accepted an invitation to preach in a church in upstate New York. The sermon was based on Matthew’s version of what we have just heard from the Gospel of Luke: “Turn the other cheek. Give to everyone who begs from you. Pray for those who curse you. And love your enemies.” These are nearly impossible words to put into practice, much less hear, and I said as much in my sermon. Jesus is instructing us to take the initiative for making peace, to move beyond revenge and retaliation. We cannot make sense out of these words, I said, unless we see one another from the perspective of God’s coming kingdom. The day is coming when there shall be no distinction between “friends” and “enemies.” So when the opportunity arises, sometimes we can act as if that day is already here.

That’s what I said in my sermon. After the benediction, one person after another shuffled out the door and exchanged greetings. I turned around and went down the hall to hang up my robe, and noticed a young woman waiting for me. She stood with clinched fists and flushed cheeks. “I want you to know,” she said, “that I don’t agree with a word you said this morning.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “The way I see it, you were complicating the teachings of Jesus.”

“Was I?”

“Yes, you were,” she said. “If we want to follow Jesus, we have to do unto others as we would have them do unto us. That is the essence of what Jesus taught us. As far as I’m concerned, there is nothing better than the Golden Rule. That is all I want to say.” With that, she whirled around and stomped away.

She was not the first to sum up the implications of faith with the Golden Rule. About twenty years before the birth of Jesus, the two most prominent Jewish rabbis were named Shammai and Hillel. One day, a Gentile approached the two of them with this challenge: “I challenge you to summarize the teachings of your religion while standing upon one foot.”

Shammai dismissed him with the words, “You don’t know what you are asking.”

The questioner looked at Hillel and gave the challenge again. Hillel stood upon one foot and said, “Whatever is hateful to you, do not do to another. That is the whole law, and all else is commentary.”1

There is nothing new in Hillel’s teaching. The Golden Rule has been around for centuries in one form or another. Jesus did not invent it; he borrowed it from the best ethical traditions of the known world. Confucius taught the Golden Rule in China. Epictetus taught the Golden Rule in ancient Greece. It was a standard teaching of wisdom in many cultures. There is nothing specifically Christian about those words, but there is something genuinely human about them. It has always been a good idea to follow the Golden Rule. Many human problems could be solved if we would “do unto others as we would have them do unto us.”

During a recent visit to some family members, I picked up a copy of the local newspaper. It has everything you want in a small town paper: school news, restaurant specials, police reports, and garage sale announcements. On page three, there was a new column; actually it is not a column as much as a transcript. The editors have set up a phone line with an answering machine. They invite their readers to call the answering machine any time day or night and, within a one-minute limit, to say anything that they want to say. The next week, these anonymous comments are published for the whole community to see.

It is stunning to read what people will say anonymously on a telephone. Everybody has a complaint about something or somebody, and that newspaper provides a perfect forum for people to be nasty in public without being held accountable. People can stick it to somebody else because somebody has been sticking it to them. We would have a kinder country if we could simply speak words to others that we would want them to speak to us. If we could treat one another with the same decency that we would want from others, this old tired world would be a much nicer place.

What is so enduring about the Golden Rule is that it is reciprocal. The rule keeps us within a relationship to one another. It assumes we live in community. Whatever you want done, you do it for somebody else. However you want to be treated, you treat everybody else that way. If there is a word you want to hear from somebody else, you offer the word first. Living by the Golden Rule means you take other people seriously, particularly in their point of need.

There is a story about a rabbi who was approached by one of his students. The student said, “Rabbi, I love you.”

The rabbi said, “Oh, really? Well, do you know what troubles me most?”

The student said, “No, I don’t know what troubles you the most.”

The rabbi said, “How can you say that you love me if you don’t know what troubles me most?”

If I take the Golden Rule seriously, it means that I am going to take you seriously. We share our burdens because we know what it is like to carry a burden. We listen to others because we know how it feels to be ignored. Like the Good Samaritan, we reach out to others because we know what it is like for somebody to pass us by. That’s what the Golden Rule is all about. We take others seriously. We put ourselves in others’ place. We live as if we have everything in common. Wouldn’t it be great if we could live by the Golden Rule?

And yet, I don’t know anybody who can live by the Golden Rule. Once in a while, maybe; but not perfectly, and not all the time. If we want proof, we have no further to look than the teachings that lie around the Golden Rule. As some commentators come to this part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, they interpret the Golden Rule as a summary of teachings that come immediately before. “Love your enemies,” because you want your enemies to love you. “Do good to those who hate you,” for you wish their hate to be transformed. “Bless those who curse you. Give to those who beg. Turn the other cheek. Do unto others as you wish they would do unto you.”

But there is no automatic connection. If you love your enemies, or act kindly to those who hate you, curse you, and harm you, there is no assurance your enemies will be kind to you. What is missing in the Golden Rule is a means to handle those occasions when the community breaks down, when people cease to take one another seriously, or when people call up the newspaper and leave anonymous complaints without any common responsibility. A good deed for others gives no assurance that others will be good to you. That is the limit of the Golden Rule.

Remember what that woman said to me after that sermon? She said, “There’s nothing better than the Golden Rule. That is all we need to do.” She could be right: maybe there is nothing better. But have you ever met somebody who has been able really to live the Golden Rule? I am not talking about being kind to people who are already kind to you, but loving your enemies, truly loving them. I don’t mean being nice to other nice people, as if the primary Christian virtue was being nice to nice people; no, I mean acting gracious even when others lash out at you, or acting with kindness to those who are ungrateful and wicked. Is there anybody who can act that way?

Back in the fifth century, there was a British monk named Pelagius. He taught that God would not command us to do something that we are not able to do. “After all,” he said, “all of us are basically good people. And if we have a hard time measuring up to God’s rules, well, we need to try a little bit harder.” It’s an appealing idea, which may be why I know a lot of closet Pelagians. Their voices speak up and say:

• “If we could only pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps;

• “If we could only be more productive with our time;

• “If we could only work a little harder;

• “If we could only ‘do unto others’ a bit more, then we will be good enough for God.”

There is great appeal to thinking like Pelagius. But it didn’t take long for the church to declare such thinking a heresy.

As I said before, there is nothing specifically Christian about the Golden Rule. It is simply a teaching about how we should behave: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The Gospel, on the other hand, is good news about what God has done in the face of our misbehavior. What gathers us here as a church is not an affirmation of human goodness and competence, but rather a celebration of what God has done in the thick of our weakness and incompetence. For what has God done? God has loved his enemies. God has been good to those who hate him. God has blessed those who curse him. God has been kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.

We have seen it on the cross where Jesus was hanging. Someone struck Jesus on the cheek, and he offered the other cheek also. Someone took away Jesus’ coat, and he did not withhold his shirt. Someone took away all of his goods, and Jesus did not ask for them again. This is what God is like, particularly for those who do not do unto others as they wish it done unto them.

Without the cross, the Golden Rule is merely a Silver Suggestion or a Platinum Platitude. Without the revelation of God in the death of Jesus, we are captive to our own advice. It is true that the Golden Rule has been present in many cultures, in many languages, among many peoples. Yet if Jesus came merely to teach people what they already know, then he could have ignored the cross, lived to a ripe old age, never troubled anybody, and sold self-help books. As you know, that’s not what happened. “While we were helpless, Christ died for the ungodly ... While we still were sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:6-8). Jesus died at the hands of people who thought they didn’t need him. He forgave his enemies. He extended the mercy of God to all of us ... in the end that we might become merciful.

A number of years ago, The New York Times Magazine told the story of Nicholas Gage and his mother Eleni. Eleni was a Greek peasant who smuggled her son out of the village before he could be “re-educated” by the communist party. As a result, she was tortured and murdered on August 28, 1948.

Thirty-two years later, her son quit his job as a reporter for the New York Times. He devoted his time and money to finding his mother’s killer. He sifted through government cover-ups and false leads. Eventually he found the person who ordered Eleni’s death. His name was Katis.

In a moving account, he tells of going up the path to a seaside cottage, where he sees Katis, fast asleep. He stood and looked at the man who had killed his mother. But as he pondered his revenge, Gage remembered how his mother did not spend the last moments cursing her tormentors; rather, she faced death with courage because she had done her duty to those she loved. “I could have killed Katis,” he confessed.

“It would have given me relief from the pain that had filled me for so many years. But as much as I want that satisfaction, I have learned that I can’t do it. My mother’s love, the primary impulse of her life, still binds us together, often surrounding me like a tangible presence. Summoning the hate to kill my enemy would have severed that bridge connecting us. It would have destroyed the part of me that is most like my mother.”2

Gage prowled all over Greece, looking to treat somebody else as he felt his mother had been treated. He spent his money trying to give the enemy a taste of his own medicine. Instead he was interrupted by love, a mother’s love that made sacrifices for him, a love that was not withheld even in the face of certain death, a love like the love of Christ on the cross.

When we love one another like this, we show ourselves to be children of the Most High God. The promise of the gospel is that God is kind to the ungrateful, the wicked, and the self-sufficient. You have heard it said, “Do to others as you would have them do unto you.” But the gospel says, “Do unto others as God has done unto you.”

Yes, there is something better than the Golden Rule, and it is the marvelous love of God. Love is one trait that marks a church full of God’s children. Around here, you might say there is a striking family resemblance.


1. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke I-IX (New York: Doubleday, 1981), p. 639.

2. Quoted by James F. Kay, Seasons of Grace (Grand Rapids: Erdmanns, 1994), pp. 71-72. Original source: New York Times Magazine 3 April 1983: 20.

CSS Publishing Commpany, Praying for a Whole New World, by William G. Carter