The People We'd Rather Not Love

I can be quite generous toward humanity in general. It’s particular humans who complicate things.

You probably have a few of your own. Someone whose name changes your mood when it appears on your phone. Someone you’re perfectly willing to forgive, provided they first acknowledge—in sufficient detail—how right you were.

Then Jesus tells us to love our neighbors, and we start looking for the fine print.

This Sunday’s readings bring that familiar commandment into some uncomfortable territory. Long before Jesus quoted it, “love your neighbor as yourself” appeared in Leviticus, among instructions about fair judgments, slander, and grudges. Apparently, holiness has something to do with what we say about people after they leave the room.

That’s harder to keep at a comfortable distance.

It also raises questions worth taking seriously. How do we speak honestly without being cruel? What does love require when someone has hurt us? Can we set a boundary and still be faithful to Jesus?

Those questions deserve more than a cheerful instruction to be nicer. Some of us are carrying wounds that religious advice has already made worse.

We’ll spend some time with all of this on Sunday. In the meantime, perhaps notice whose name comes to mind when you hear the word “neighbor”—and whose name you wish hadn’t.

There may be something worth praying about there.