Breaking the Cycle: What Jesus Meant by Loving Your Enemies
Jesus once said something that still feels almost impossible:
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.”
(Luke 6:27–28)
For many people, these words feel unrealistic. When someone hurts us or treats us unfairly, our instinct is to defend ourselves, get even, or simply walk away. So when we hear Jesus tell us to love our enemies, it can sound like he is asking us to become doormats.
But that’s not what Jesus is teaching.
Imagine you are a fisherman in first-century Galilee. You’ve been working all night on the lake and are finally heading back into town with your catch.
Before you can sell your fish, you must pass the tax booth. The tax collector demands payment, but today you don’t have enough. The system is stacked against you, and if you can’t pay, you may have to throw away some of your catch.
You try to explain the situation, but instead, the tax collector publicly slaps you across the face. Roman soldiers stand nearby, ready to punish anyone who fights back.
You’ve been listening to Jesus teach. You want to follow him.
What do you do?
Or imagine a situation that feels closer to home. You’ve been having difficulties with a colleague at work. Recently, you’ve noticed things going missing from your desk; pens, stationery, your lunch from the staff fridge and maybe worst of all, using your favourite mug.
One day you step out briefly and when you return you find that colleague going through your belongings with your wallet in their hand.
How do you respond?
Many people assume Jesus is telling us to simply accept mistreatment and do nothing. But loving your enemy is not passive.
It isn’t revenge. It isn’t retaliation. But it also isn’t doing nothing.
Instead, Jesus calls his followers to respond deliberately and differently, breaking the cycle of hostility that usually defines human relationships.
Imagine responding to the tax collector by turning your other cheek to them and saying calmly, “It seems like you’re having a rough day. Is there anything else you need to get off your chest?”
Or asking the colleague, “Are you okay? Things must be difficult right now. Can I take you out for lunch?”
That kind of response is not weakness. It requires strength, courage, and self-control.
Jesus had a word for this kind of response. In the original language of the New Testament, it is called agape.
In English, the word love can mean many things. We say we love pizza, love a favourite film, and love our family. Often, the word refers to a feeling. You know that warm, fuzzy feeling.
But the love Jesus talks about here isn’t primarily a feeling. Agape is a choice.
It is choosing to treat someone with kindness and dignity, regardless of how they treat you. It is choosing to see another person as someone made in God’s image, even when their behaviour makes that difficult.
Jesus knows that loving enemies is not easy. In fact, it may be one of the hardest things we are ever called to do.
But it is also one of the most powerful ways we can live out our faith. When we refuse to repay evil with evil, we interrupt the spiral of bitterness and hostility that so often damages relationships and communities.
Jesus goes on to say that when we live this way, we are reflecting the heart of God himself.
God does not only show kindness to people who deserve it. As Jesus also says, God “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”
God’s generosity extends even to those who reject him. When we choose to show kindness where it isn’t deserved, we begin to mirror that same generosity.
Loving our enemies does not mean pretending wrongdoing doesn’t matter. It does not mean allowing injustice to continue unchecked.
But it does mean refusing to allow anger and hatred to control our response.
Jesus invites us into a different way of living, one marked by courage, mercy, and surprising acts of kindness.
It may feel unnatural at times. Yet when we choose that path, we reflect something of the very heart of God.
