Bible reading: Luke 6:27-36 – the words of Jesus.

Message.
I wonder how much we listen to the radio? Perhaps we have music on as a background to our household chores, we might listen to comedy programmes as we journey in our cars, Moira likes putting on Radio Cymru when she’s cooking as it gives her more exposure to Welsh. Some of us may listen a lot, some of us may hardly listen at all; but we can all agree that, in today’s world of social media, television, streaming and the internet, radio is just one voice among many.

That hasn’t always been the case. People in Britain listened avidly to the wireless (as it was known in those days) during the dark days of World War 2. And, in the second half of the last century, radio was the primary means of communication and entertainment in many African countries where newspapers were only available to a few city people, television was in its infancy, and rural areas had no mains electricity. Battery-powered radios were relatively cheap; more to the point, listening to them fitted in well with the strong tradition of oral story-telling. When I lived in Guinea-Bissau in the early 80s, there was only one channel and, as one walked down the road, one could follow the programmes, including our own weekly church service which I produced for a while, coming from sets placed on peoples’ verandahs.

You won’t have heard of “Radio-Television Libre des Mille Collines” – RTLM for short – which began broadcasting in Rwanda in 1993. This station was totally different to the official Government one: its disc jockeys were jokey, informal, used street language and were some-times drunk, there was pop music and phone-ins. The station was designed to appeal to the unemployed, the delinquents and to the gangs of thugs in the militia. It soon became very popular.

But there was sinister intent beneath the banter. RTLM had been set up by hard-line Hutu extremists: wealthy businessmen, bankers and relatives of the President, who had an agenda. If you listened carefully, you would have realised that the discussion and jokes, even some of the songs, revolved around fear and hatred of the minority Tutsi tribe. In a society where anger and division had festered for years – among people who in fact were very similar – the radio station fuelled hate and helped prepare the way for the 1994 genocide in which over half a million people, mostly Tutsis, were murdered in horrific ways. The radio station wasn’t the only reason for the genocide, but it certainly seems to have been a contributory factor. Tutsis were the enemy.

It may seem strange to say this, but people often like having enemies. That’s because knowing (or thinking we know) who our enemies, or just the people we disagree with, are helps us define our own identity. This is true for individuals; it’s even more true for groups of people. So, for instance, we may define ourselves by rubbishing the folk who voted “Remain” or “Leave” in the Brexit referendum, or by mocking any team that’s playing against Wales in football or rugby, or (in the Christian world) criticising either “those hardline fundament-alists” or “those woolly liberals”. More seriously, not only did we witness that murderous rage between the Hutus and Tutsis, but we can see the visceral hate between many Jews and Palestinians. Here in Britain the far Right loves to stir up hate against Muslims, refugees or people whose skin isn’t white, often using selective facts and downright lies to further their cause. If you’ve read George Orwell’s novel “1984” you’ll know that the citizens of Oceania are worked into a daily frenzy during the “Two Minutes Hate” against the foreign powers which, says Big Brother, are a constant threat to them.

There must have been plenty of people for Jesus’ hearers to hate. The most obvious were surely the Romans, whose oppression must have constantly niggled; King Herod and his family, Jewish collaborators who loved to feather their own nests, must have been particular targets. We know that there was tension between the mainstream Jews and the Samaritans: this dated back centuries, like in English villages which still aren’t on speaking terms because they supported different sides in the Civil War of the 1640s. There was dislike of some of the religious classes, intent on imposing their pernickety rules on humble people, as well as the usual divides between social classes and families. Everyone had someone, or a group of people, that they loved to hate. We still do.

It’s into this angry society that Jesus says, “Love your enemies”. And, just in case his listeners haven’t grasped what he’s saying, he elaborates it: “Do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” – in other words, respond in precisely the opposite way to what your enemies would have expected. And, to rub things in even further, Jesus gives practical examples of what this “loving” might mean: “If anyone hits you on one cheek, let them strike the other one too; if someone takes your coat, let them have your shirt as well. Give to everyone who asks you for something, and when someone takes something that is yours, don’t ask for it back”. We might say, “Of course it’s hyperbole; Jesus was exaggerating in order to make his point”. But was he?

Now we need be careful with these verses. The idea of “turning the other cheek” has brought misery for women and children who have suffered abuse. Jesus isn’t saying that they have to “put up with it” as mere doormats. Indeed, that isn’t the focus of this passage at all and, when we look at the context of his words, we discover something else.

For in Jesus’ day the people who got hit on the cheek were slaves or servants; it’s how their master disciplined them. And there was a proper, we might even say “official”, way of doing this: the servant would stand facing their master, who would strike the servant’s right cheek with the back of his right hand. However, Jesus says, “Now turn the other cheek” – so what does this mean? Well, if you try this for yourselves (not that I recommend it) you’ll find that it’s almost impossible to strike someone’s left cheek with the back of your right hand; in other words, the master is unable to discipline the servant in the accepted fashion. That implies a loss of face or honour for him, which in turn means that “turning the other cheek” is actually an act of passive resistance, something which shows how powerless the master really is.

Let’s think, too, about someone who takes away your coat: this would typically be a Roman soldier. That’s your outer garment gone: you’re left standing in your shirt. If you give that away, you’ll be left naked and cold. That might be embarrassing; but it also exposes for all to see the injustice of what the soldier has done. Once again, following Jesus’ advice leads to a non-violent, but powerful, act of defiance. Carrying a soldier’s pack for two miles when he’s only told you to carry it for one is similar: you are exposing the injustice of the situation and asserting your freedom. As one writer puts it: “Jesus is offering a way of life in which the poor and powerless can act from a position of strength – to take an initiative which confronts their opponent and which leaves the wrong where it belongs. Their dignity does not depend on how others treat them”. This is truly radical, another example of Jesus driving a coach and horses through society’s usual values.

One thing I haven’t mentioned so far is what Jesus meant by the word “love”: please notice that this is an imperative, a command, something that we are being told to do. Clearly he’s not talking about squishy, romantic feelings or warm, cozy emotions. In fact he’s using a Greek word which I’m sure you’ve all heard of: “agape”, which has nothing to do with feelings, liking people, or even friendship. Its meaning is to act with good will towards another person; it’s about relationships and behaviour rather than feelings. When Jesus says, “Love your enemies,” he is saying, “Treat your enemies in ways that will create justice, kindness, mercy, harmony, and well-being for everyone, for human society, and for all of creation”. That’s a very big ask! But it goes to the very heart of the Gospel: after all, Jesus was willing to give his life not only for his friends but also for the people who hated him.

So how do we – how can we – love our enemies? Indeed, considering that this might be the greatest challenge to us in all of the gospels, is it even possible? Well, although many of us may hold grudges against people, loving our enemies is a clear command of Jesus. It isn’t good advice or a suggestion: it’s an order. We have no choice but to obey, and there is no easy way of doing so. Our natural response when we are attacked is to retaliate, to seek revenge. But, as we know only too well, that often leads to an escalating vicious cycle which has no winners and drags in innocent people along the way. That can’t be right.

Certainly Jesus tells us to pray for our enemies and bless them. That won’t be what we feel like doing – and please note that Jesus didn’t say that we should pray for them to come to a sticky end! In fact I think that this “praying” and “blessing” is as much to do with ourselves as with our adversaries: we stop seeing them in impersonal terms as “the enemy” and start seeing them as people; aggressive, cruel, vindictive and unfair but still human. We might even begin to feel sorrow at the attitudes ingrained within them: why do they behave as they do, and can we support them in any way? Perhaps our positive and outgoing behaviour will show them that there is a better way to live.

I was watching “Midsomer Murders” the other day – you know, that apparently tranquil part of the English countryside where so many people are bumped off in bizarre and ingenious ways. After each death the detectives ask an inevitable question: “Did he (or she) have any enemies?” The answer tends to be either “lots” or “none”. Well, I hope that none of us has any enemies, people we cannot forgive who we’d prefer to never see or talk to again – but some of us may. Even if we don’t have personal enemies, we live in a society which seems to love promoting division and a toxic “us-versus-them mentality” which sees people with different views or beliefs as enemies to be despised rather than opponents with whom we disagree. Somehow we need to “lower the temperature” when we’re talking, and recognise that even the folk we dislike bear God’s image within them, however hard it may be to discern. As Martin Luther King said, “The person who hates you most has some good in him; even the nation that hates you most has some good in it; even the race that hates you most has some good in it. And when you come to the point that you look in the face of every man and see deep down within him what religion calls ‘the image of God,’ you begin to love him, in spite of”.

I began this message in Rwanda; I’m going to end it in Egypt. On Palm Sunday 2017, two bombs, planted by Isis, exploded during Mass: one inside St George’s church in Tanta, the other outside St Mark ‘s in Alexandria, the mother church of Egyptian Christians.  Forty-seven people died and over 100 were injured. On Easter Sunday Fr. Boules George preached in Cairo; this is part of his message.

“What will we say to those who killed us? The first thing, which you won’t believe when we say it, is, ‘Thank you very, very much’. Do you know why we thank you? I’ll tell you. You won’t get it, but please believe us. It’s because you gave us to die the same death as Christ, and this is the biggest honour we could have. Christ was crucified – and this is our faith. He was slaughtered – and this is our faith. You gave to us to fulfil what Christ said to us: ‘Behold, I send you out as lambs among wolves’. We were lambs; our only weapons were our faith and the church we pray in.

“We also want to tell you that we love you. And this, unfortunately, you won’t understand at all. But this too is a teaching of our Christ who said: ‘If you love those who love you, you have no profit or reward with me. But I say to you, love your enemies’.

“We Christians don’t have enemies; others make enmity with us. We don’t make enemies because we are commanded to love everyone. So we love you because this is the teaching of our God: that we’re to love you, no matter what you do to us.  And we’re praying for you”.

The Christians in Egypt knew what real enmity was – and responded in a Christ-like way, in love. Would we have done the same?