
I’m not a Christian—but I do follow the teachings of Jesus.
I’m not a Christian—but I believe loving your enemies is wise.
I’m not a Christian—but I try to love my neighbors as I love myself.
I’m not a Christian—but I do believe in the divine.
Growing up in evangelical Christianity, I knew the Bible inside and out. At one point, I had the entire book of Titus memorized word for word.
Leviticus and Numbers could put anyone to sleep, but I was told the “red letters” were the important ones—the words of Jesus. The minor prophets had some gripping stories, though also some disturbing ones.
As I got older and began raising a family, I started listening more closely to what was preached from the pulpit. I began comparing it to the actual words of Jesus. And slowly, something became clear:
They didn’t always match.
In fact, most of the people around me seemed to follow the shouting voice of the preacher over the steady, calm presence of Christ.
Jesus said, “Love your enemies.” He even emphasized that it means nothing to love those who love you. The real challenge is loving those you don’t agree with, those who seem against you.
But I never heard a sermon about how hard it is to love your enemies. Not once.
Instead, I was taught—either directly or through implication—that certain people were our enemies:
- Democrats (aka “demon-crats” or “libtards”)
- Scientists who supported evolution
- Public school teachers
- College professors from secular institutions
- People who swore (especially those who said “OMG”)
- People who drank alcohol
- Pro-choice voters
- LGBTQIA+ people
- Rock stars and porn stars
- Hollywood
- Catholics
- Mormons
- Jehovah’s Witnesses
- Muslims
- Hindus
- Atheists (especially!)
- And many more
Did we claim to love all these people?
Yes, technically. But in practice, “love” meant choosing our interpretation of scripture over relationship. It meant pointing out sin, offering correction, and hoping the person would change to become more like us.
That version of love wasn’t love at all.
It was judgment wrapped in piety.
And it wasn’t even hard—it came naturally.
It was judgment wrapped in piety.
And it wasn’t even hard—it came naturally.
The truth is, when someone isn’t like us, our subconscious often reacts with discomfort. As a hypnotherapist, I understand how the subconscious mind is wired. It sees “different” as dangerous. The unknown activates our fight-flight-freeze-fawn response.
But when Jesus said we’d be known by our love—and that we should love even our enemies—he was pointing toward something radical. Something that defies our survival instincts and cultural programming.
It was radical then, and it’s still radical now.
And just in case we misunderstand what love looks like, we’re given a pretty clear definition in 1 Corinthians 13. It says:
Love is patient and kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast.
It is not proud.
It does not dishonor others.
It is not self-seeking.
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
It does not envy.
It does not boast.
It is not proud.
It does not dishonor others.
It is not self-seeking.
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
That means love doesn’t punish. It doesn’t insist on its own way. It doesn’t keep score.
So no eternal hell.
No legislating morality.
No arrogance or superiority.
No legislating morality.
No arrogance or superiority.
In 1 John, we’re told that God is love.
If that’s true, then all of the above must be true of God, too.
If that’s true, then all of the above must be true of God, too.
Jesus said that his followers would be known by their love—not by their doctrine, their church attendance, or their political affiliation.
So here’s a truth we don’t hear often enough:
You can follow Christ and not be a Christian.
You can be a Christian and not follow Christ.
You can be a Christian and not follow Christ.
If you practice unconditional love, you’re following Christ—regardless of your label.
If you don’t practice unconditional love, then no label makes it so.
If you don’t practice unconditional love, then no label makes it so.
That kind of reasoning may seem obvious now, but inside evangelicalism, sound reasoning was often discouraged. We were told not to trust our feelings or our intellect. We were taught to trust our leaders—no questions asked.
Since leaving that system, I’ve slowly learned what love actually looks like. It’s messy. It’s inconvenient. It’s uncomfortable.
Following Jesus isn’t easy.
But being a Christian? That was.
But being a Christian? That was.
And if you’ve left a high-control group or cult-like religion, you might have come to understand something powerful:
Loving your enemies doesn’t just heal the world—it heals you.
Loving your enemies doesn’t just heal the world—it heals you.
And maybe, just maybe… you’ve realized that you don’t really have enemies at all.
They were created for you.
But you don’t have to keep believing in them.
But you don’t have to keep believing in them.
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Love, Can 💕