The problem? We hate our enemies.
Christ’s solution? Love your enemies.
Christ’s solution? Love your enemies.
How?
Well… according to some, Jesus sets the example by condemning all those who don’t, won’t, or can’t believe him (aka his enemies) to hell for eternity.
Well… according to some, Jesus sets the example by condemning all those who don’t, won’t, or can’t believe him (aka his enemies) to hell for eternity.
Wait… that doesn’t sound right.
Let me try that again.
Jesus said to love your enemies. (See Luke 6:27, 35 and Matthew 5:44.) Check!
Jesus said that those who don’t believe in him are his enemies. Well, the only verse that maybe hints at that is Matthew 12:30, where he says that those who are not with him are against him. But it’s not clear what people need to be for in order to be with him. He hadn’t died yet, so it can’t mean believing in his death for sins. Let’s move on. I’ll consider this one possibly true.
Jesus will pronounce judgment of eternal life in hell to those who reject him.
I can’t find a verse that says that… hmm.
I can’t find a verse that says that… hmm.
What I can find is Jesus saying he condemns no one—but that those who don’t believe in his message are already condemned.
I guess “condemned” doesn’t necessarily mean eternity in hell or punishment. It doesn’t sound good, though. But he does say it’s something they’re already in, kind of like… hell is here on earth?
After reflecting, my reasoning seems to indicate that maybe someone superimposed the idea of eternal life in a torture chamber over the teachings of Christ.
It doesn’t seem to be a clear teaching at all.
It doesn’t seem to be a clear teaching at all.
So if it doesn’t mean that—what else could it mean?
(I’m ashamed to admit there was a time—brief as it was—when I believed it was somehow “loving” for those without faith in Christ to face eternal punishment. Not because it felt right in my spirit, but because I heard it preached with such certainty by more than one evangelical teacher. Besides, letting go of that idea meant the whole foundation of my salvation could crumble. More on that in a future post.)
This is where loving your enemy comes into play.
Someone who vehemently disagreed with my belief system had to point it out—and I had to hear it.
When a message like that lands in an open mind, the seed gets planted. And deconstruction begins.
But in order to prepare that ground—that stubborn, ignorant (willfully or naively) fundamentalist mindset—someone has to hear the message over and over before their soil softens enough to receive a new, contradictory belief.
(This is one reason evangelicals like to keep their children in Christian “bubbles.” It protects their weak faith. The ground—the mind—stays closed, hard, and unprepared for new seeds or growth.)
Because someone loved me—someone who would have hypothetically been considered my enemy or adversary—they were willing to have those uncomfortable conversations. A seed was planted. And the ground was ready.
Today, I can say with my full chest that the idea of eternal punishment is not only false, it’s dangerous.
Now—to be clear—this post isn’t just about hell, or Jesus, or theology.
It’s about perspective.
And yes, maybe a little bit about loving your enemies.
It’s about perspective.
And yes, maybe a little bit about loving your enemies.
It’s also about having the courage and wisdom to recognize that no one is born evil.
We are programmed with ideas from systems that aren’t always beneficial.
We are programmed with ideas from systems that aren’t always beneficial.
It is the job of those who are healing, those who are doing the inner work, the light workers, to help those still wandering in the dark.
As someone deconstructing from fundamentalist and evangelical Christianity, I understand why Christians think the way they do. They are my past. My yesterday.
And on the flip side, I also understand why so many left-leaning folks are absolutely enraged by the religious right.
Often, I stand right next to them, scratching my head in disbelief at the outrageous claims and distorted thinking.
Often, I stand right next to them, scratching my head in disbelief at the outrageous claims and distorted thinking.
But here’s the reality: many evangelicals (overwhelmingly Republican) genuinely believe it’s loving to legislate their beliefs.
Why?
Because they’re convinced their interpretation of the Bible is the truth.
They believe hell awaits the atheist, the heretic, the entire LGBTQIA+ community.
Why?
Because they refuse to play by the biblical rules (or their interpretation of them)—believe or burn.
They preach that belief is all it takes. (This is called justification.)
But once you’ve confessed that Jesus is Lord, you must spend your life proving to God (and his followers) that you’re a true believer.
But once you’ve confessed that Jesus is Lord, you must spend your life proving to God (and his followers) that you’re a true believer.
How?
By trying to keep all the laws the Bible claims no one can keep.
It’s impossible—but you must try.
That’s Christianity’s idea of sanctification, and it lasts until death, which is when glorification (the final stage of salvation) kicks in.
It’s impossible—but you must try.
That’s Christianity’s idea of sanctification, and it lasts until death, which is when glorification (the final stage of salvation) kicks in.
And what counts as proof of salvation?
That depends.
In some churches, it’s the language you use. No swearing!
In others, it’s whether you listen to secular music or not.
Sometimes it’s as superficial as the style of your clothing or the length of your hair.
In others, it’s whether you listen to secular music or not.
Sometimes it’s as superficial as the style of your clothing or the length of your hair.
Yes, really. I wish I was kidding.
There really is no hate like Christian (specifically evangelical or fundamentalist) love—because their belief is that God loves through eternal torture.
Ask an evangelical if God is love, and they’ll say “yes.”
Ask if God sends unbelievers to hell, and they’ll say “yes.”
Then ask if it’s loving to burn your enemies—and they’ll likely say, “His ways are higher than our ways.”
Ask if God sends unbelievers to hell, and they’ll say “yes.”
Then ask if it’s loving to burn your enemies—and they’ll likely say, “His ways are higher than our ways.”
They love like their Heavenly Father does: conditionally and, often, cruelly.
They’re not trying to be cruel. They don’t know any better.
They genuinely believe what they’ve been told. Let’s be honest, most of them have never read their holy book.
They’re not trying to be cruel. They don’t know any better.
They genuinely believe what they’ve been told. Let’s be honest, most of them have never read their holy book.
(I’m not speaking about politicians or religious leaders here. Many of them do know they’re being deceitful. They’re charlatans, wolves in sheep’s clothing.)
Those who oppose this logic—these days, that’s typically those who lean center or left—see it for what it is:
An attempt to control or enslave the masses using religion.
This is how I see it now, and I cannot unsee it.
This is how I see it now, and I cannot unsee it.
Liberals can’t make sense of the evangelical mindset.
Evangelicals can’t make sense of liberal pushback.
Evangelicals can’t make sense of liberal pushback.
We believe we have only two choices—and that we must choose one.
Everyone is either ally or adversary, friend or foe.
Everyone is either ally or adversary, friend or foe.
So how do we move forward?
Is it even possible without splitting in two?
Is it even possible without splitting in two?
How do we begin to understand—not necessarily agree with—one another?
How do we begin to heal the divide when we refuse to even sit across from our “enemy” long enough to ask why they believe what they believe?
How do we begin to heal the divide when we refuse to even sit across from our “enemy” long enough to ask why they believe what they believe?
I think this is what Christ meant when he told his disciples to love their enemies.
He didn’t say “agree.”
He didn’t say “be a doormat.”
He said: love.
He didn’t say “be a doormat.”
He said: love.
Be curious. Look past the words and actions. Ask what’s underneath.
I see this same effort when I watch Dean or Parker debate politics with people on the opposing side.
I hear it when exvangelicals share their stories in Facebook threads filled with folks who are still devoted to the faith.
I hear it when exvangelicals share their stories in Facebook threads filled with folks who are still devoted to the faith.
Love takes courage.
It takes patience.
Kindness.
And a willingness to not insist we know everything. (See 1 Corinthians 13:4.)
It takes patience.
Kindness.
And a willingness to not insist we know everything. (See 1 Corinthians 13:4.)
If we can’t be kind enough, thoughtful enough, and curious enough about the whys, we will fall.
The hell we bring will be our own doing. Hell! It's already here.
The division will inevitably destroy us.
Kindness and a willingness to truly hear one another isn’t the solution.
(Spoiler: there isn’t one magical solution.)
But it is a solution.
And I believe with my whole heart that it helps.
(Spoiler: there isn’t one magical solution.)
But it is a solution.
And I believe with my whole heart that it helps.
I’m not saying you need to argue with your MAGA family.
But I am saying—remember: they genuinely are brainwashed into believing that what they’re doing is best.
For them.
For you.
For the country.
For God.
But I am saying—remember: they genuinely are brainwashed into believing that what they’re doing is best.
For them.
For you.
For the country.
For God.
NOTE: If just thinking about those conversations makes your chest tighten, this isn’t your task. You are healing. That is your priority right now. Leave this to those of us who feel prepared. You need to learn how to love yourself before you can love others. And that takes time.
When we know someone’s why, we can meet them there.
Not all of them are willing.
But some are.
I have faith in humanity.
I have faith in the potential of the people who make up this broken, beautiful country—even those who seem hell-bent on destroying it.
I have faith in the potential of the people who make up this broken, beautiful country—even those who seem hell-bent on destroying it.
America can be great.
But only if we believe it’s possible—and take the uncomfortable steps toward that possibility.
But only if we believe it’s possible—and take the uncomfortable steps toward that possibility.
Today, I choose to love my enemies.
Not perfectly.
But intentionally.
And for me—that’s enough.
Not perfectly.
But intentionally.
And for me—that’s enough.
Will my love toward them look different than yours? Probably.
But I do know this: love never feels cruel, or unkind, or unjust to the giver or receiver.
So I can easily spot those who follow this teaching of Jesus—just like he said.
We will know them by their love.
But I do know this: love never feels cruel, or unkind, or unjust to the giver or receiver.
So I can easily spot those who follow this teaching of Jesus—just like he said.
We will know them by their love.
How about you?
Who do you consider your enemies?
Can you choose to love them?
Are you willing, ready, and able?
If not—why? (It’s okay to disagree with me. I’m still learning.)
Who do you consider your enemies?
Can you choose to love them?
Are you willing, ready, and able?
If not—why? (It’s okay to disagree with me. I’m still learning.)
Maybe the stronger belief isn’t in winning the fight…
but in letting go of the idea that we even have enemies at all.
but in letting go of the idea that we even have enemies at all.
Maybe we’re all just humans—trying to grow up—and it’s messy and uncomfortable.
And maybe… that’s okay.
With love,
Candi D 💕
Candi D 💕
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