The Real Test of Faith: How You Treat Your Enemies
Learning to Love When It's Hard
There’s a striking quote from Dallas Willard that has been rattling around in my mind lately: "Few of us manage to go through life without collecting a group of individuals who would not be sorry to learn we have died." It's a hard truth. Whether through misunderstanding, betrayal, or just plain human brokenness, we all eventually gather a few “enemies” along the way.
What’s even harder is the radical teaching Jesus gives us about these very people: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
When Jesus said this, He wasn’t tossing out a Hallmark card sentiment. He was entering into a fierce conversation that had been simmering for centuries: Who exactly is my neighbor? In the world Jesus lived in—a world deeply shaped by debates over the Old Testament Law—loving your “neighbor” often meant loving your own people, your own tribe. If you were a fellow Israelite, you were in. If not...well, not my problem.
But Jesus didn't just tweak the conversation. He detonated it. He expanded "neighbor" to include not just the people we like or the people like us, but even those who have wronged us, hurt us, dismissed us. Even those who would rather see us fail.
And He expects us to do more than tolerate them. He calls us to agape them.
Agape Love
Agape is a word that, for many of us, might summon memories of youth group t-shirts and campfire worship nights. But agape isn’t sentimental. It’s not about feeling warm inside. Agape is about choice. It’s the gritty, often uncomfortable decision to seek the wellbeing of another person—without expecting anything in return.
That definition alone challenges most of what our culture trains us to believe. We’re taught to guard ourselves, to match kindness with kindness, to cancel or call out anyone who crosses the line. We live in a world that rewards retaliation and praises division. To survive here, we're told, you need a little bit of hate in your heart.
But Jesus shows us another way: a life that’s not fueled by comparison, competition, or suspicion, but by the relentless pursuit of good even for those who don't deserve it.
Not because they’ve earned it. But because that's what God is like.
Jesus reminds us that God pours out His goodness—rain, sunshine, blessings—on both the righteous and the unrighteous. He doesn’t pick and choose who gets a taste of His mercy. And if we are to be His children, people shaped by His Kingdom, we must learn to do the same.
What Does It Look Practically?
So what does it look like to really love our enemies? It can start small, almost invisibly.
It looks like praying for the boss who belittles you. It looks like refusing to join in gossip about the friend who betrayed your trust. It looks like apologizing, not to win or manipulate, but simply because you value peace more than pride. It looks like doing good, offering kindness, even when no apology is ever offered in return.
And it absolutely looks like setting boundaries when needed. Seeking the wellbeing of another doesn’t mean putting yourself back into situations of abuse or harm. Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone who has hurt you is to pray for their healing from a distance, refusing to let bitterness take root in your own heart.
Jesus ends His teaching with this daunting line: Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
In the original language, “perfect” doesn’t mean flawless. It means complete. Whole. Mature.
How do we know we're growing in faith? Not by how much Bible trivia we can quote, or how often we show up at church. It’s measured by how deeply we love. Especially when love is the last thing we want to offer.
Maturity in the Kingdom looks like learning to love—fully, courageously, and without agenda—the people we least want to.
And when we do, even in halting, imperfect steps, we are stepping into the life Jesus died to give us: a life that looks like the Father’s—overflowing with grace for saints and sinners alike.