A HEART FOR THE ENEMY – Consider the Christ

From the book Nathanael’s Bubble

In a recent post reflecting on the extreme hardship in Lebanon, where over a million people have now been displaced in less than a month, I encountered a comment blaming Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran for “fueling the hatred.” The response, “They are to blame,” instantly shifted the focus from the suffering to finding a scapegoat.

What amazes me most is that we can look at the pain and suffering of people while still trying to defend and justify an argument.

• “Yes of course we feel sorry for the 42,000 people who died in Gaza but the blame falls on Hamas’s shoulders”
• “Yes, of course, it’s terrible that more than 16,000 children were slaughtered but it is because Hamas uses them as human shields.”
• “Yes, of course, the bombing of hospitals is terrible but that is where Hamas has its tunnels”

Does this sound familiar?  No anguish, just excuses.  No compassion, just agendas.  The inability to simply weep – weep for friends and weep for enemies – has become the single greatest denial of a Christ consciousness of our time.  It has become more virtuous to be right than to be compassionate.

Consider the Christ

If we were to script Jesus’s time on earth and plan His place of birth, the announcement of His arrival, His place of death, and where and when He would have His most strategic encounters, I could safely say that our story would look vastly different. No, we would not have chosen a stable in Palestine for the King to be born and we would certainly not have announced His birth to a bunch of shepherds. The only thing we would have got right was the trumpets and angels. We would not have suggested a place called “skull”, a place of suffering and torture, as the final resting place for the Prince of Peace, our beloved Saviour. We also would not have chosen a donkey as the mode of transport when entering a city of conquest. Someone seriously slipped up on that. Yes, if the needs of the Messiah depended on us, He would have been born in a palace, announced to the elite, died in a mansion and His arrival in Jerusalem would have been riding on a white horse accompanied by a serious military parade.

But wait, there’s more. How about the place and people to whom Christ would announce, for the first time, that He is the Messiah? No doubt we would have included all the VIPs, the elite, the celebrities, the rich and the famous. A prominent mega-church would have set the scene with Gospel bands to create the ambiance. After all, this was to be the greatest announcement in human history. The Messiah, the anointed one, the chosen one, the one that ALL prophets referred to, the Saviour has arrived. Our bubbles would burst with excitement and space to accommodate all the dignitaries would be limited. What a moment in history!

So, where did this announcement take place?

Take a deep breath and keep that thought for a moment while we contemplate the context…

STEP INTO THE STORY

Consider the awkward meeting in John 4. You have been travelling with Jesus for days now. You are irritable and edgy as you arrive in the god-forsaken little town of Sychar in Samaria. It’s hot, it’s dusty, you are tired, and you haven’t eaten anything since who knows when. As you enter Sychar, Jesus rests beside a well as the other disciples head into town to buy food. You stay with Jesus.  He looks weak and you are concerned that He hasn’t eaten for too long now (John 4:31). He needs nourishment and He needs it fast.

And then the woman arrives.

Consider your predicament. There you are. You have a choice between indignation or intrigue. No place on earth makes you feel more uncomfortable than where you find yourself right now, but you know that this meeting will most definitely challenge your spirituality. Not only are you standing on enemy territory of the despised and half-breed Samaritans, but you are standing there exposed. Only you and Jesus. But, that’s not the worst. You are alone with a woman. A Samaritan woman. Oh God forbid. To add insult to injury, not just any Samaritan woman, but one OF reputation. Not one WITH a reputation but one OF reputation—if you know what I mean. The kind that your mother warned you about.

Everything in you wants to escape the scene but you are intrigued by the master’s intentional choice to stop, speak, and entertain what was culturally inappropriate and religiously unacceptable. This was no accident.

This woman was obviously an outcast. Standing there alone in the heat of the day, you are convinced that she is a character not to be associated with. Not even by a Samaritan standard. A sudden surprise of anguish fills your heart. She must be lonely. Maybe this is why Jesus stopped.

You take your position behind the bucket. Firstly, to not be tempted by her obviously enticing and revealing attire and, secondly, to not be seen by someone of your religious bubble. You can only imagine the shame.

You know what I’m talking about. We all do it. We hide in our bubbles from the shame of association.  We defend the aggressor and shun the victim.  It’s easier.  Loving your enemy doesn’t come naturally.

Not so with Jesus. He steps into her bubble and confronts her deepest and most inner feelings. Like so many people, she simply existed, without life. Jesus enters her existence with a profound promise of LIVING water and life in abundance.

Then came the announcement. WOW. In enemy territory, to a single woman of reputation. The greatest announcement in human history is wasted on a Samaritan prostitute. Press the pause button there for a moment. The woman of reputation from a culture group viewed by Jews as half-breeds, is the first person to whom Jesus openly reveals himself as the Messiah.

Read that again: The woman of reputation from a culture group viewed by Jews as half-breeds, is the first person to whom Jesus openly reveals himself as the Messiah.  No, it was not the pious Jewish leader, Nicodemus, it was not the Roman emperor, Herod, or even the religious elite like Caiaphas. The greatest announcement of all time happens in an obscure village to a Samaritan prostitute. She heard the words before anybody else: “I am He, the one who is speaking to you” (John 4:26).

With all due respect, I, therefore, proclaim to myself and all other bubble-dwellers: “Put that in your pipe and smoke it”.

If Christ would dwell the earth today, He would probably do the same. He would not visit the satisfied in luxury churches but the thirsty in Palestine and the lonely amongst Hamas. Our half-breeds would become His priority and those who would fill our bubbles with shame would receive a place of honour at his side. This is who He is, not what He does. He continuously leaves His “bubble” and enters the “bubbles” of those who need Him.  Belonging before believing has always been His approach.

Oh Lord have mercy.  May we love unconditionally and weep unreservedly.  May we find the grace to step out of our bubbles and into the lives of those who thirst for dignity, living water, and a redeeming Saviour.