Love Behind Enemy Lines | Sunday, November 9, 2025

Now when He concluded all these sayings in the hearing of the people, He entered Capernaum. And a certain centurion's servant, who was dear to him, was sick and ready to die. So when he heard about Jesus, he sent elders of the Jews to Him, pleading with Him to come and heal his servant... "Lord, do not trouble Yourself, for I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof... But say the word, and my servant will be healed..." When Jesus heard these things, He marveled at him, and turned around and said to the crowd that followed Him, "I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel!" And those who were sent, returning to the house, found the servant well who had been sick. (Luke 7)

A Roman officer—an enemy of Israel—becomes Jesus's living illustration of what it means to love your enemies.

The Hardest of Jesus's Teachings

A few weeks ago we studied one of Jesus's most essential and famous teachings, Luke 6:27: "But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who spitefully use you." It may also be one of the most difficult teachings to put into practice.

In the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5, Jesus identifies this as the path to perfection. But that word perfection in the New Testament usually means maturity, not sinless perfection. So Jesus is saying that loving your enemies is the path to becoming mature. "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies... Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect" (Matthew 5:43, 48). This is what it looks like to be like God—to image His glory through love.

The challenge is that emulating God this way is incredibly difficult. Quite frankly, I find "love your neighbor and hate your enemy" more appealing; my natural inclination says amen to that. The first-century crowds were inclined that way too. Yet "love your enemies" is the teaching Jesus is perhaps most well-known for, even among unbelievers. When someone calls Jesus a good moral teacher, this is usually what they mean.

Love That Is Counternatural and Extraordinary

This is also the identifying mark of His followers. "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another as I have loved you. By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another" (John 13). So our calling is clear: we have been called to love.

But the love to which Jesus calls us is otherworldly. Christlike love is counternatural and extraordinary. Counternatural means contrary to nature. We are all inclined to love those who are lovely, those we like. But to love the unlovely, to love those who hate us and would regard us as their enemy—that is contrary to nature. We love love, but we don't love loving our enemies. We have a love-hate relationship with our enemies: we love to hate them, and we look for loopholes in Scripture that might give us permission to hate them.

Because this teaching is contrary to nature and extraordinary, we need an example—a clear, fixed, tangible picture of this intangible concept. Biblical love is not a theoretical concept or a theological idea; it is the practical calling to which we've been called. Jesus says, "If you do good to those who love you, what good is that? Do not even sinners do the same?" He calls us to an extraordinary love of our enemies. And Luke 7 gives us a picture of exactly that.

Who the Romans Were

Aristotle, writing 2,500 years ago, defined love as "wishing for anyone the things which we believe to be good." Thomas Aquinas quoted the same: love is to will the good of another. Now think about that—Jesus says, "Love your enemies." Desire the good of my enemy. That is hard. And it's harder still because in my flesh I don't even have the power to will my enemy's good. More often than not my mind drifts toward something not good happening to my enemy. The Bible calls that malice, and Paul says in Ephesians 4 to put it away. I confess there have been more than a few times I've thought, "I kind of wish that would happen."

To understand Luke 7, we must understand how the Jews regarded the Romans—and they hated them for good reason. Rome took control of the entire region in 63 BC and ruled by the constant threat of terror. Every Jewish town was filled with Roman soldiers who could compel you to carry their packs a thousand paces—a mile. That's the background to Jesus's words, "Whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two" (Matthew 5:41).

Worse, their king, Herod, was a foreigner installed by Rome—an Idumean, descended from one of Israel's ancient enemies. The Romans built the Antonia Fortress above the temple to watch everything that happened there, declaring, "We are over you and your God." And their billboards throughout the nation were crucified Jews left to decay, warning everyone what happens if you resist Rome. So the Jews prayed daily for deliverance by the Messiah—whom they expected to be a political ruler who would destroy Rome and exalt Israel.

An Unlikely Man of Faith

With all of that as context, Jesus enters Capernaum, where at least five of His disciples were from, and is immediately met by religious leaders pleading on behalf of a Roman centurion—an officer commanding at least a hundred soldiers, the ruling power in the region. They want Jesus to heal his servant, his slave who was dear to him.

This is a curious situation, and the text gives us noteworthy qualities about this centurion. First, he had a good relationship with the Jewish religious leaders—strange, since they hardly befriended the soldiers occupying their community. Second, those elders beg earnestly, calling him deserving: "He loves our nation." Third, he demonstrated that love by building them a synagogue. You can visit the ruins of Capernaum's synagogue today, built during the Byzantine period on the foundation of the one from Christ's time—funded by this Roman centurion. As one commentator notes, "A man would scarcely have undertaken all that is involved in building a synagogue without some interest in the God who was worshiped there."

Fourth, he had marvelous faith. This Roman—the kind of man who'd be on the top-ten list of people the Jews in Capernaum hated—displayed faith in Jesus that inspired hope, and goodwill that expressed love. Faith, hope, and love: the New Testament's chief characteristics of a follower of God, found in the most unlikely of people. Sometimes the very ones we are tempted to hate surprise us.

His faith moved him to recognize Jesus's authority, calling Him Lord. It moved him to humbly acknowledge his unworthiness twice: "Lord, do not trouble Yourself, for I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof... but say the word, and my servant will be healed." And it moved him to honor Jesus's power to heal.

Hate Can Blind Us

When I consider who the Romans were and who this centurion was, I realize how easily I could fall into not recognizing what God is doing in the world. If we're not careful, hate can blind us to the very ones God desires to reach and heal through us. With a plank in my own eye, I miss what God sees.

But Jesus didn't. "When Jesus heard these things, He marveled at him." Three times in the Gospels this word marveled is used of Jesus, and always in connection with faith. He marvels here at the faith of an outsider, then turns to the people expected to be men and women of faith and says, "I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel." He says something similar of the Syrophoenician woman in Matthew 15, whose faith He honored even after calling her, in the Jewish manner, a dog—and she answered, "Yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table."

The only other thing that made Jesus marvel was unbelief—in His own hometown of Nazareth, where He could do no mighty work because of their unbelief (Mark 6:5–6). So consider this: it is far better to surprise Jesus by your faith than by your unbelief. Those sent by the centurion returned to find the servant healed.

My Flesh Wants Loopholes

This is the perfect practical application of "love your enemy." But to be candid, my flesh doesn't want practical applications of that teaching—my flesh wants loopholes. Can I get an amen? I don't like this teaching because I think that if I love my enemy, it lets him off the hook. He'll take advantage of my kindness and walk all over me. He'll never be pushed to repent. He'll think he's right while I keep being wronged. He'll never be brought to justice, and I'll never get my revenge.

So when I think like that, I conclude that Jesus's teaching doesn't work—if by "work" I mean feeling validated in my hate and vindicated in my desire for vengeance. His teaching seems nonsensical: if I actually love my enemies, the world will surely get worse and people will take advantage. It would be nonsensical—if I did not have the witness of Jesus.

The Witness of Christ and His Church

Jesus loved His enemies dramatically. He washed Judas's feet. He shared the Eucharist with Judas present. When Judas betrayed Him with a kiss, Jesus called him friend. From the cross He prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." We heard those words echoed recently when Erika Kirk said at her husband's memorial, "I forgive the man who shot and killed my husband." Jesus said, "Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends."

This week is Veterans Day, and we are grateful for those who volunteered to put themselves in harm's way, potentially laying down their lives for their countrymen. But Jesus one-ups even that: "God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners"—while we were His enemies—"Christ died for us."

I would also think His teaching nonsensical without the example of the early church, which lived this same ethos. The book of Acts is the story of God's people expressing His love and extending the grace of the gospel in ways that ultimately subverted Rome over several centuries. John wrote, "My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth." Church history is filled with bad examples—and notice, the church usually does bad things in the name of Christ precisely when it adopts "love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But when we do as Christ commanded, history is replete with believers laying down their lives in love for their enemies. The kingdom of God advances and overcomes as God demonstrates His love through His people—not by sword, spear, gun, or bomb, but by the love of the church and often by the blood of the martyrs.

The Godfather Christianity

The difficult part is that I have a hard time believing and behaving as if this is true; my fallen heart wants vengeance and retribution. A couple of weeks ago in Jerusalem, my friend Pastor David Guzik and I were debating the greatest movies, and The Godfather came up. I admitted I'd never seen it, and David—appalled that an Italian-American named DeBenedictis had never watched it—pulled a USB drive from his bag, and over three nights we watched it in our hotel room.

Spoiler alert for a 1972 film: the climactic baptism scene cross-cuts between Michael Corleone renouncing Satan as godfather of his nephew and his henchmen murdering the heads of the rival families. "Do you renounce Satan?" "I renounce him"—boom. "And all his works?" "I renounce them"—boom. I like the Christianity of Michael Corleone. But God says, "That doesn't work for Me." As John writes, "Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God... In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another."

Citizens of Another Kingdom

The kingdoms of this world advance by dominance, power, and retribution, and as citizens of another kingdom we are tempted to join the fight following the same patterns. But the kingdom of our Lord was inaugurated by the suffering Servant on the cross who said, "Father, forgive them," and it has advanced for 2,000 years through servants who likewise suffered, like lambs led to the slaughter who opened not their mouths (Isaiah 53). I don't like the way that sounds in my flesh, but it is nonetheless true—and it has renewed importance in this moment.

We are living through increasingly divided times. The division is primarily political, and everything has been politicized. The extreme poles pull us further apart, often amplifying a "love your neighbor and hate your enemy" politics—identity politics—wrapped in very Christian-sounding language. Tribalism increases: red states get redder, blue states bluer, as we self-select into politically comfortable places. We are pressured daily, through social and corporate media, to engage according to our fallen nature. And I have to resist that, because I like Michael Corleone.

What makes it harder is that the loudest voices on either side wrap their ideology in Christian language. A recent example is the conversation between Tucker Carlson and Nick Fuentes—lots of Christian-sounding things, but, as a Bible guy, a lot out of context. So we Christians must be clear about who Jesus really is as King and Lord, what His kingdom is and is not, when we should obey or disobey earthly rulers, where our ultimate hope comes from, how Christ becomes Lord of our lives, and why the gospel is the most essential message for a divided world.

Why I Am Wary of Christian Nationalism

Since Charlie Kirk's assassination, I've been asked a lot about Christian nationalism, and I'll share my aversion to it. By nature I'm drawn to a fighting patriotism. I was born and raised here in San Diego; I've traveled the world enough to see, and I like it here. I would love for my children, and their children, to live under the freedoms I've enjoyed. So when those freedoms seem threatened, I get charged up.

But as a Christian I have to remind myself of hard things. This nation, as much as I love it, is not my eternal home or hope. It is not the kingdom of God, nor will it ever be; it does not represent Christ, and it has all kinds of problems—better than the alternatives, but in need of Jesus. The answer for our culture and every culture is the gospel.

So I am a citizen of another kingdom and a subject of another King. "For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ" (Philippians 3:20). And I am an ambassador of Christ: "We are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us: be reconciled to God" (2 Corinthians 5). The verse I've long wrestled with, being combative by nature, is James 1:19–20: "Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God."

Are You the Coming One?

Almost all of Jesus's earliest followers followed Him for political reasons, looking for a messiah who would destroy Rome. Among them was John the Baptist, who rightly called out Herod's unrighteousness and was thrown into prison, eventually executed. At the very moment Jesus is healing the centurion's servant and—in the next section of Luke 7—raising a young man from the dead, John is languishing in prison.

So John sends two disciples to ask, "Are You the Coming One, or do we look for another?" (Luke 7:19). I think John was asking the question many people in our day ask: Where is the Jesus-led political uprising? You're supposed to be the Messiah—why aren't You rescuing me?

How did Jesus respond? In that very hour He cured many of their infirmities, afflictions, and evil spirits, and gave sight to the blind. Then He said, "Go and tell John the things you have seen and heard: the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the gospel preached to them. And blessed is he who is not offended because of Me." Don't be offended if Jesus's kingdom agenda is different from yours. That hits right in the heart.

Closing Prayer

God, Your word is living and powerful, sharper than any two-edged sword, dividing joint and marrow, soul and spirit, a discerner of the thoughts and intents of our hearts. And You know my heart. I want to do what You would have me do—not as a pastor, but as a follower of You. So God, would You help me? Help me to recognize that the only ultimate answer for our culture and this world is the good news of the gospel, and help me to trust entirely in that. Strengthen me when I'm weak in my flesh and think the only way is to take up arms. Lord God, You are King and You are Lord, and I pray that Your lordship over our lives would be evident in the way we live and how we represent You in this world. We ask this in Jesus's name. And now may the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of His Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.