At a sandbox several years ago with my 4-year-old nephew and godson, Jake, I saw mercy and forgiveness unfold in real-time. At stake was his collection of toys that he had brought with him in a wagon to the playground that afternoon.

I watched him settle into a corner of the empty sandbox and carefully place each item from his wagon into the sand. Soon, a group of older kids arrived, saw my nephew’s toys, and, without asking, took some of them to another part of the sandbox to play with. Jake looked shocked, and I watched in slow motion as some of his innocence drained away with this first, and surely not last, experience of insult. And filling that once-pure space, I could see anger rising in him and in me.

In the sandbox that is the world we live in right now, I’m no longer surprised by the meanness of some people but I’m still infuriated by it. And like that 4-year-old child, I want to fight back with all my might to stop the bullies.

Because when those who rule with unbridled power inflict and condone violence, denigrating anyone who shows empathy toward the marginalized, shouldn’t we fight back?

When we witness structures and organizations that aid the most vulnerable being dismantled overnight by those with an insatiable desire for dominance, isn’t it time to retaliate?

Returning love for their hate and mercy for their malice seems irresponsible in times like these.

When it is no longer toys but lives at stake, is it truly so wrong to hate our enemies?

Honestly, I don’t know the answer to that. But I am encouraged by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who said:

  We should be happy that [Jesus] did not say, ‘Like your enemies.’... [Dr. King continued,] How can we be affectionate toward a person whose avowed aim is to crush our         
  very being and place innumerable stumbling blocks in our path? How can we like a person who is threatening our children and bombing our homes? …But [Dr. King, said,]
   Jesus recognized that love is greater than like. (A Gift of Love, Martin Luther King, Jr., chapter 5, Beacon Press)

So, Jesus’s mandate today is exactly what it sounds like: Love your enemies…no matter what. Because even when we did not deserve it, mercy is all the Father ever gives, for in God’s household, mercy is never the wrong choice.

And that’s the point: To follow Jesus on the way of the Gospel, we must choose to respond with love, no matter what because it is the only way all of us will be saved. As Dr. King said in the same sermon, “Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence…The chain reaction of evil…must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.”

We can choose to love every time, but only if we remember what God has done for us. Choosing to love is powerful. Choosing to love is resistance. Because choosing to love your enemy removes their power to define who you are and whose you are. You are a child of God, blessed and beloved, crowned with the dignity of Christ.

Still, Jesus knew that loving those who hate you would not be easy. But he did it anyway.

-        When he proclaimed liberty to captives and freedom to the oppressed, those who heard him tried to kill him right then and there. Jesus loved them anyway.

-        As he was being condemned to death, his closest friend denied him not once but three times. Jesus loved him anyway.

-        On Golgotha, they struck his cheek, and Jesus offered the other.

-        From the cross, they took his cloak, and Jesus gave them his tunic.

-        They robbed him of his very life, and he blessed and forgave them in return.

-        For their hate, he made a choice, and chose to love them anyway.

And so must we, if we are God’s children.

Yet, we are not Jesus. For us, the choice is often too hard to make:

-        When the ones meant to protect you are the very ones who hurt you

-        And when the systems are stacked against you from the start

-        When your own family and friends turn away from you for who you are or who you voted for and others hate you for the color of your skin, the accent of your voice, the place of your birth, or the way you pray (or not) to God.

Left to ourselves, it’s easier to curse them, simpler to unfriend them, and more exhilarating to defeat them at their own game.

But God who is kind and merciful has given us a community of strangers united by baptism that we might learn to love those we despise.

Though imperfect disciples are we on the way of the Gospel, God anoints us with the Spirit and chooses us as God’s own to do Christ’s mission.

And with the saints in the heaven and the saints next door around the altar of the Eucharist, we are fed and we become the Body and Blood of Christ that we might see ourselves in one another and love one another anyway as God has loved us.

Jake ran to me, hurt and afraid that he would lose his toys to the other children. I wiped his tears and assured him I wouldn’t let that happen. Once his sobbing stopped, I asked him if he wanted to invite them to play with him. He was quiet for a long moment, and I could see his mind weighing his choices and considering the risk of losing all he had in his wagon.

Love them anyway. Love them anyway.

Finally, he nodded, and without a word, slowly made his way to the other side of the sandbox where the kids were still playing with Jake’s toys. His fists were still clenched at his sides.

Love them anyway, I prayed.

He said some words to them I couldn’t hear, then ran to his wagon, dragging it back to the stunned children. And he plopped himself down right alongside them, placing his remaining toys within their reach.

Give, and gifts will be given to you, overflowing like sand between our knees. In Christ, mercy is offered and mercy is given, all the time and every time we cross to the other side of the playground.