The most outrageous and difficult command in Jesus’ sermon

Last Sunday, the lectionary invited us to ponder Luke 6:17-38. This is the middle portion of Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, the beginning of which I discussed last week. The English Standard Version supplies today’s verses with the headings “Love Your Enemies,” and “Judging Others.”

Some teachings are repeated often. For example, in church membership classes. Those who attend this year will be taught many of the same things as those who attended three years ago.

In Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount” outlined by Matthew, and “Sermon on the Plain” outlined by Luke, Jesus repeated some of the same materials. Why? Because he wanted to explain what it means to be kingdom people.

We’re practical people. We’re people who want to do things. So, we treat the Bible as a how-to manual for what we should do to clear our consciences, to sleep well, to please God and those we love.

Like an alternative to the Analects of Confucius or the Sharia or the Vedas or even Aesop’s fables. Or even writings by the likes of Peter Drucker and Jordan Peterson.

But the Bible is more than a how-to manual. As I said last week, in Listen to Jesus like those under the Japanese occupation, the Bible contains coded messages. We will miss these messages if we only think of the Bible as a guidebook or rulebook. I’ll explain with an example.

The heading “love your enemies” makes us think of positive action, like a Palestinian doctor saving the life of an Israeli soldier. But what if Jesus is teaching us to more smartly resist people who oppress us?[1]

Consider this. In verse 27, Jesus says we should love our enemies. In verse 28, he says we should bless those who curse us and pray for those who abuse us. Then, in verse 29, he says,

To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either.

What’s that about? What does that have to do with “love your enemies”?

It sounds more like how we should respond when we’re treated as inferiors or exploited in our weakness. It sounds like instructions on how we should respond when we see such behaviours and results.

Jesus’ audiences were not soldiers or rich, high-class people. They were oppressed people. They lived in a society where there were rules. Rules which established class and position. Consider crucifixion and slapping.

  • No Roman citizen could be subjected to the demeaning punishment of crucifixion.
  • If you slapped someone with the back of your hand, you signalled that he or she was your inferior, like a slave or a wife.
  • But if you slapped someone who was your equal with the back of your hand, you committed the offence of insult. The fine for this offence was double the fine for slapping with the palm of the hand.

Now that we know the social signals sent by the different slaps and cheeks, what do we make of Jesus’ saying, “turn the other cheek”?

Jesus isn’t saying “just give in and take the insult, the beating, the pain.” He isn’t saying “tire your opponent” by taking on more beatings. He’s saying “resist.” He’s saying “resist smartly.”

Why is turning the other cheek smart?

  • It’s smart because it invites a slap as an equal.
  • It’s smart because it teases your opponent to treat you as an equal.
  • It’s smart because you’re signalling to everyone that you’ll not allow your opponent to rob you of your dignity.

Jesus wants us to resist evil, not just absorb it. There’s something similar behind the cloak and the tunic.

Say the tax-collector took your last coins. Now you’re broke. Your kids need milk. A lender offers you a loan. There’s a condition. If you don’t repay by Friday, he’ll take your coat. You fail to repay. He comes for your coat. You ask for an extension of time. He drags you before the judge.

The judge says you made a promise, and you have to keep it. He tells his officer to take your coat and give it to the lender. What can you do?

Jesus counsels you to say, “losing my coat will lead to my death.” He counsels you to stage a drama. He counsels you to say and do, “Here, take the rest of my clothes as well.”

When you strip naked, everyone is engaged. Everyone looks away. Everyone recognizes the horror of the decision. The law has been an ass. You’ve just put on display both the cruelty of the lender and the legal system which abets his cruelty. You’ve staged a non-violent drama.

Jesus raised “love your neighbour” to “love your enemy into my kingdom.”

I end with a thought formulated by Peter Shaw, a pastor in California who pondered the same words as in today’s reading:

Jesus did not come to initiate a “nice” campaign.  The Jewish leaders and the Roman Empire didn’t orchestrate capital punishment for people guilty of being too nice.  Crucifixion was reserved primarily for those guilty of insurrection.

How does your church teach “The most outrageous and difficult command in Jesus’ sermon”? What are the results?

Peace be with you.


[1] Somewhat like James C Scott outlined in his 1985 book, Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance. Interestingly, he mentions peasants in Kedah having to pawn their clothes for cash.

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