The idea of loving a political enemy feels foreign and out of place, but so did the entry of the God-Man into our Creator’s narrative. Like putting the king of kings in a manger and surrounding him with shepherds, loving those who oppose us, and who work feverishly to defeat us, seems like a recipe for failure. In fact, it is the specter of political failure that gnaws at those who consider even the possibility of love in the public realm. How can it work? Can you win elections while loving people? Can you pursue policies in the rough-and-tumble reality of the public square and still love those who might distort, lie, and abuse you to achieve their own political aims?

This is looking at the matter backwards. The first priority of political engagement for believers should be to point the world toward Christ. We do this, in part, by loving our enemies so they can feel it and the world can see it. Results, be they electoral victories or policy gains, must come in conjunction with our love. Winning without, or in opposition to, love, truth, respect, honor, or obedience, is a human achievement that stands against the commandments of God. The question should not be, “can you win while loving your enemies?” but instead, “are you willing to obey Christ’s commandments in all areas of your life, including politics?”

Political results make a profound difference. Elected officials and the legislative, executive, and judicial acts they spawn are often matters of life and death. They shape justice. They impact millions with the stroke of a pen. By calling for enemy love, even in politics, I am not making my case by minimizing the importance of political results. Results, no matter how worthy, cannot justify deliberate, sinful actions that birth them. Hating our political enemies, even while winning, isn’t good enough. For the believer, both ends and means have to be scrutinized. Attempting to argue otherwise leaves us, as witnesses, in an untenable place if we take the words of God seriously. What goal, no matter how glorious, is worth the price of our souls? What if we think we need to lie, cheat, steal, and bribe our way to political gains? Can we compound our sins into the holiness of God? Heavens, no. Results are best left in the hands of a good, sovereign, just God, but our actions belong to us.

Conscientious Christians should strive to win in the manner God has laid out for us. This is hard in a polarized, complex political reality, but the difficulty of the mission does not absolve us of the obligation to fight on God’s terms. Besides, it seems possible to win and glorify God. William Wilberforce did it as he dragged an empire toward the abolition of slavery. We can do it as well, but how?

First, you must build relationships of sorts. It is difficult to imagine loving an enemy by ignoring them or pretending they don’t exist. To love requires awareness, knowledge, and interaction. This also allows for a better understanding of their views and concerns, which is critical in a political environment. This understanding should either sharpen our own arguments, or force us to reconsider them entirely.

Sometimes it may be as simple as carrying a casserole or a dinner invitation to a new neighbor. But what if your neighborhood, church, and other social networks are homogeneous? What if your “enemy” is nowhere to be found? This may require the development of new social and cultural mechanisms or spaces to bridge some of our divides. Imagine a community organization that sponsored speakers and followed that up with dinner and discussion. One organization, called Better Angels, is seeking to do these things on a broad scale. The group, made up of Republicans, Democrats, and Independents, holds workshops that bring “red” and “blue” Americans together. They work on skills of civility, host debates, and spark diverse discussions. The group formed in response to the 2016 presidential election and now has chapters in every state. Their goal is to “move Americans from hatred to respect and appreciation” in relation to political differences. This is just one example of what building relationships could look like.

Another is the Public Affairs Conference at Missouri State University. Every year, MSU invites an array of speakers and panelists to discuss complicated and controversial topics. I have been invited twice, and each time I was one of the few Evangelical Christian voices at the gathering. I have spoken about religion and the state, the role of diversity in our society, and the nature of toleration. Conference attendees were students with a smattering of community members. The panels were mixed to provoke discussion. The question and answer session killed any remaining pretense. After a talk on religion and diversity, one audience member asked me, “as a gay man, would I be welcome in your church?” I’ve been asked about religious freedom and the same-sex marriage debate, whether or not the church foments division in society, and many other questions I cannot recall. There was no dancing around those sorts of queries. When audience members got answers, from me and others, they did not always walk away persuaded, but at least we talked, open and plain, about our beliefs and disagreements. These aren’t relationships, but they are a start.

Panelists spend time together at meals throughout the conference. I found little agreement in these times. We came to Springfield, Missouri on different paths that started in separate places. I am committed to universal truth and I am a Christian, convinced not only of God’s existence, but of Christ’s death, resurrection, and sacrifice for my sins. These things set me apart from some fellow religionists and from panelists who were atheists, agnostics, or Marxists. I shared one panel with a gay, African-American theater professor. We clashed on every issue of significance, but we came together on sometimes shaky and rumbling common ground . We parted on abortion, sexuality, and marriage, but we joined on a concern with infant and maternal health care. We discussed ways the government and society might support young, pregnant girls, or women who have been abused or raped.

I don’t report these things in pride. I have much room for improvement when it comes to loving those who disagree with me. I am convicted by Christ’s words in Matthew 5 and I have not done enough to know people outside my bubble. I teach at a Christian university, and I live in the village that surrounds that university. I work with and teach people who agree with my basic conceptions. I get outside that bubble when I speak at academic conferences and when I do media interviews in Dayton, Columbus, Cleveland, or Chicago. These are clear chances to represent Christ, but they do not foster strong, deep relationships where we challenge each other on a personal level or develop concerns for one another. I need to branch out more on my own, either through ministry or deliberate actions.

When you love someone, certain forms of behavior naturally follow. In an argument, you interpret them carefully and you treat them with grace and forgiveness. You never assume the worst. You listen with rapt attention, not to construct a devastating response, but to understand them better and to see things from their point of view. When you love someone, you engage not to destroy but persuade. This assumes more than civility. Remember, as a believer, you hope for your enemies to come to Christ. You want to love them as a witness to God’s grace, with the hope they will come to see their own need. This love is seen through kindness, charity, and sacrifice. This is true in all areas and relationships, including politics.

Some may mistake this kind of behavior as an agreement with, or a tacit endorsement of, sin, or as compromising truth. To love is to want what is best for someone. This assumes grappling with what is true and good. I cannot show love to someone by affirming and supporting a destructive habit or lifestyle, even if they are convinced it is good. My challenge is to love them while still taking the opportunity, when it arises, to share my thoughts and hopes for them. This very act may destroy friendships. It may make it difficult to know and stay connected, for many of our political “enemies” will carry profoundly different views of reality with them. In fact, they may see us as bigots unworthy of friendship or respect. Once they know us, and our beliefs, they may fight us tooth and nail at every step. They may refuse our overtures and even deny our humanity. In the extreme, our enemies may marginalize us, imprison us, or even kill us.

We have an ample guidebook for how to behave in such times and places. We are commanded to make peace, to the degree we are able. We are commanded to love our enemies. We are commanded to shine our light, as if we were a city on a hill. We are commanded to honor all people, including the emperor. We are commanded to turn the other cheek when insulted and walk the extra mile when burdened by abuse. If we care about the souls, even of our oppressors, our mission is clear. It takes us to the highways and byways, and onto every inch of earth, in search of foe or friend, with the hope of sharing God’s truth.

At least in America, we are not navigating straits that dire. We are working with parties that seem intractable. They are dug into their partisan positions so firmly that even the possibility of solving problems seems distant if not fanciful. To love our enemies in such a reality requires at least a recognition that one’s own party does not monopolize truth or virtue. To solve our problems necessitates working with people from the other party to accomplish shared goals. It might be tempting to assume there are no shared goals when worldviews collide, but I am not quite so cynical. Unearth those goals, through relationships, and search for even slivers of ideas and policies that might be agreeable. There are many areas where this is possible: criminal justice reform, health care, and even immigration. I am not naïve enough to think bipartisanship can be the norm. Nor am I convinced that both parties, and the dominant ideologies that undergird them, are equally right or good, but our government is, at least at this moment, hardly functional. There should be enough willingness to get along and cooperate to restore a basic level of political sanity, even in Washington, D.C.

Finally, I want to caution against an obvious, but ever-present, category error that plagues discussions of love in politics. It is tempting to turn government into a source of love, and to expect it to project this love into the political world. This would mean government, and its policies, should show neighbor love and enemy love either in a way that is similar to citizens, or even in a macro or accelerated way that spreads love across a community or nation. Scripture does not portray government in such terms.

Government is an agent of justice. It has been endowed with the sword to pursue justice, on behalf of God, in the temporal world. Love may require us to turn the other cheek or walk the extra mile, but justice does not. Government should pursue justice against the wrongdoer. Justice demands some form of compensation or retribution. This is where the government’s obligations are simply different, but not always opposed to, the obligations felt by citizens themselves. Beyond this, government is an inadequate agent of love. We love through relationships and sacrifice. We love by bearing one another’s burdens. We love through shared lives. Government policies cannot function in this manner, or if they try, they do so poorly. I have no doubt many conscientious, godly government employees—like social workers or parole officers—can display love to their clients. But they must also promote order, enforce rules, and report illegal activity. They cannot love in the same manner as friends, family members, or neighbors. These possess a love that can be ever-present, flexible, and discerning as they aid those in need. Government, by definition, must be regimented, equal, and impersonal to a degree. This assures fairness and justice. I want my government to be kind when it can. I want it to seek the good of all. I want it to show mercy when appropriate, but these should never interfere with the government’s essential, divine mission—to reward good and punish evil.

***This is Part 4 of a series of articles on the necessity of Christian Love in the Political Arena. Here are links to Part 1 and Part 2 and Part 3.***

Pondering a question on politics, culture, the Christian life, or really any topic? Submit it to mailbag.bereans@gmail.com! Your question may feature in Matt’s Marvelous Monday Mailbag.