Love Anyway
Psalm 37:1-11, 39-40 & Luke 6:27-38
I know.
I know how exhausting it is to try and be good in a world that rewards cruelty.
I know how tempting it is to give up—to stop caring, to stop trying, to stop hoping that things could be any different.
I know what it feels like to want to turn off the TV, cancel your newspaper subscription, delete your social media, and bury your head in the sand.
Because what does it matter anyway?
I know what it’s like to wake up to yet another headline, yet another policy, yet another leader whose incompetence and malice seem to know no bounds.
There’s a word for this.
Kakistocracy.
A system where the worst, the least qualified, the most unscrupulous are in charge.
And yet, somehow, the kindest, most selfless people you know are just barely scraping by.
The writer of Ecclesiastes wrestled with the same frustration:
"There is something else meaningless that occurs on earth: the righteous who get what the wicked deserve, and the wicked who get what the righteous deserve. This too, I say, is meaningless."
I know what it is to watch people lie, cheat, manipulate, and still win.
I know how easy it is to want to fight fire with fire—to say, Fine. If this is how the world works, I’ll play by those rules too.
But then...
Then you hear Jesus.
And Jesus says, Love your enemies.
And you think, Nope. Not today, Jesus.
Love them?
Do good to them?
Bless them?
Pray for them?
That is not how survival works.
That is not how power works.
That is not how the world works.
And yet Jesus keeps saying it.
Even when the empire is crushing him.
Even when the religious leaders are conspiring against him.
Even when his closest friends abandon him.
Even when he is hanging on a cross, looking out at a crowd that came to watch him die—
Even then.
"Father, forgive them."
Oh, I have struggled with this one, friends.
Really struggled.
Because I don’t want to love them.
To forgive them.
I don’t want to do anything close to that.
If I’m honest, and I should be honest, shouldn’t I? If I’m honest, I’ve had some bad thoughts…
And I want to find some loophole—
Something in scripture that makes my anger righteous.
That makes my hatred okay.
Because how do you love people who persecute the most vulnerable among us?
How do you pray for those who do harm and feel no remorse?
It doesn’t make sense.
But that’s the kind of love we’re dealing with.
A love that doesn’t make sense.
A love that is infuriating.
A love that doesn’t play by the world’s rules.
A love that refuses to let hatred win.
And maybe that’s the point.
Because look at the world we’ve built…. the one that does play by those rules.
A world that rewards ruthlessness.
A world that says, step on whoever you need to step on to get ahead.
A world where power belongs to the ones willing to wield it the most viciously.
How’s that working out for us?
Are we more whole? More free? More at peace?
Or are we just more exhausted?
More cynical?
More afraid?
Jesus offers another way.
Not an easy way.
But the only way that leads to life.
Because when you refuse to be hardened by the hardness of the world…
…when you refuse to let hatred turn you into the very thing you despise…
…when you insist on loving anyway…
That is resistance.
That is defiance. That is how we survive.
That’s what Psalm 37 is getting at too:
"Do not fret because of the wicked… do not be envious of wrongdoers."
The psalmist is saying: Don’t waste your energy wishing you could be like them. Don’t let their apparent success make you think they’ve won.
Don’t give them free rent in your head.
Because that way will not last.
That way is fleeting.
It’s all smoke and mirrors.
That way might look powerful in the moment, but it is hollow.
It is a house of cards.
And it will crumble.
The way of the wicked always does.
But the way of love?
That way is eternal.
That way is the way of God.
That way is the way of mercy, the way of justice, the way of humility, the way of grace—
That is the way that will remain when all the rest has faded.
In the end, these three things remain…
Faith, hope and love.
And the greatest of these is love.
Yes, I know.
I know how easy it is to get tired.
I know how tempting it is to want to fight on their terms.
I know how much it hurts to love people who do not love you back.
But the question isn’t Do they deserve it?
The question is Who do you want to be?
Because you do not have to let them change you.
You do not have to let them pull you into the ugliness.
You do not have to play by their rules.
You can choose another way.
You can choose to love.
Not a soft, passive, roll over and take it kind of love.
No.
A strong, unshakable, nothing you can do will make me hate you kind of love.
An I will not let your ugliness infect me kind of love.
A love that is not weakness, but absolute strength.
A love that builds the kind of world we actually want to live in.
And when we do that—when we love anyway—
We start to see glimpses of the kingdom breaking in.
We start to see a new world being born.
A world where power does not come from domination, but from mercy.
A world where enemies become friends.
A world where the brokenhearted find healing.
A world where goodness is not a liability.
A world where love is not a risk.
A world where people don’t just survive.
They thrive.
So keep going.
Keep loving.
Keep blessing.
Keep showing up with your kindness and your tenderness and your mercy, even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.
Because Jesus knew what he was talking about.
Because love is the only thing that will last.
In the end, these three remain:
Faith, hope, and love.
And the greatest of these is love.
Love is the only thing that will save us.
Even here.
Even now.
Amen.