But to you that hear I say, Love your enemies; do good to those that hate you;
Right after the blessings and the woes, Jesus turns to the people listening. He tells them to love their enemies, which raises two questions: who is this word spoken to, and where does anyone find the power to obey it?
Jesus aims these words at one audience: the people willing to listen. One writer asks who those hearers were and answers from the Lord's own words:
Who then were those who heard the Prophet of Jehovah? There need be no doubt about the right answer, since the Lord Himself gave it. Speaking to His disciples He said, "Blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear." They were His followers, for they had heard Him. As the sheep of the "little flock" they had heard the voice of the good Shepherd.
Others miss it by their own choice:
Many are spiritually deaf and do not hear such things. They have closed their ears to the things of Christ on purpose.
Jesus first spoke this to Jewish disciples. One writer explains why it reaches every believer, and what it reveals:
All that Luke says is, "But I say to you who hear." The disciples addressed were Jews. But the instruction by its own nature goes out to any man. It is profitable for all the faithful, for the non-Jew as much as for the Jew... The non-Jewish believer has the same heart as the Jewish one. He is in the same world, and has to do with enemies and with those who hate. So this word is valuable... It goes completely against nature. It is the revelation of what God is, applied to govern the heart of His children.
Disciples are not told to invent this love. They pass on what they first received:
From verse 27 He shows what must be the conduct of the disciples as such. They were to display God, to unfold what was shown in Him. The grace that was full and perfect in Him should show itself again in them. That is the principle of our path, sadly as we all fail in it. "Love your enemies," etc. God loved us when we were His enemies, and we have now to show in practice what God is.
The word "love" here is easy to soften into a warm feeling. One commentator corrects that and names where the strength comes from:
Love is not just a kind feeling. It is real concern for the true, proper good of another. If that person returns hatred, that is all the more reason to care for him, because he needs special help. Doing good in return for evil represents God rightly. It also sets an example that should touch the hearts and consciences of others... The power of the Holy Spirit greatly changes our natural resentment, when we let Him work in us without grieving or quenching Him.
Another writer sums up the disciple's whole manner in three words, and says where such love comes from:
The love that can go forth and even embrace an enemy is not human but Divine; whereas any sinner can love the one who loves him. The disciple of Jesus is to be a lover, a blesser, a giver.
Loving a neighbour as yourself still keeps yourself as the measure. This teaching removes that limit — and, one writer warns, it exposes us in the process:
And here I find what is entirely beyond law. Law tells me to love others as myself; grace tells me to give myself up entirely for my neighbour or for anybody. Did not God forgive you? You go and forgive your enemies. Is He kind to the unthankful and the evil? You go and be the same. It tests all the fibres of our hearts, all the pride and vanity and selfishness that are in us.
- Hearing first. Jesus speaks to "you who hear" — those who have already listened to His voice. Others have closed their ears on purpose.
- Received before required. God loved us while we were His enemies. Disciples give out what they first received.
- Character, not code. This is not a stricter rule. It is a display of what God is, given to govern the hearts of His children.
- Love as action. Loving an enemy means real concern for his welfare — his hatred is the reason he needs it most.
- Beyond your reach alone. Such love is divine, not human. Natural resentment gives way only as the Holy Spirit works freely in us. The demand tests every hidden bit of pride and selfishness.
bless those that curse you; pray for those who use you despitefully.
This command speaks to people who are being cursed and mistreated, and tells them what to say and what to pray. Is it only a hard rule to obey, or does it come from what God Himself is like toward His enemies?
Luke does not frame these words as a contrast with the law of Israel, the way Matthew's account does. That difference matters, because it opens the teaching to anyone.
All that Luke says is, "But I say to you who hear." The disciples He spoke to were Jews. But the teaching by its own nature goes out to anyone, and is useful for all believers, to the Gentile as much as to the Jew… The Gentile believer has the same heart as the Jewish one, lives in the same world, and has to deal with enemies and with people who hate. So such a word is valuable… This goes right against nature. It is the revelation of what God is, applied to govern the heart of His children. This is what He was doing, and showing in Christ, and the children are called to imitate their Father.
Both halves of the verse call for something done. A kind feeling that never reaches your words or your prayers falls short.
The Lord looks for active good, and for looking to God on behalf of those who might treat them spitefully. So it is not only kindness and pity; there is earnest and sincere pleading with God for their blessing.
Prayer for someone who abuses you could turn into a prayer that God deal with him. The verse points the other way, and one writer links it to the call to pray for all people.
So we are to pray for "all men" — not only for those who govern well, but also for those who treat God's people spitefully (Luke 6:28). We are to pray, not that judgment will fall on those who persecute God's people, but that in sovereign grace they will be saved.
A law can command you to love your neighbour as yourself. Blessing the person who curses you is something else, and it exposes what is inside us.
And here I find what is entirely beyond law. Law tells me to love others as myself; grace tells me to give myself up entirely for my neighbour or for anybody. Did not God forgive you? You go and forgive your enemies. Is He kind to the unthankful and the evil? You go and be the same. It tests all the fibres of our hearts, all the pride and vanity and selfishness that are in us.
This runs against instinct, so what makes it possible? One writer points to two things: true faith, and the Holy Spirit at work in us.
Doing good in return for evil represents God rightly. It also sets an example that should touch the hearts and consciences of others. This, and returning blessing for cursing, needs the lowly dignity of true faith. So do the things that follow, such as praying for someone who treats you spitefully (v.28). The power of the Holy Spirit greatly changes our natural resentment, when we let Him work in us without grieving Him or quenching Him.
Praying for your enemies can sound like a burden. It is also a place of honour: through you, good reaches people who have earned none of it.
The repeating of this command adds greatly to its divine force and importance. We must face it honestly, however hard it is to obey in its true sense. It is the special privilege of the Christian to pray for all men, friends and enemies. God has given him this place of honour — to bless others by his prayers. He should be like a vessel from which the precious blessings of Christ flow out to enrich many around him. Nature would return evil for evil and hold on to feelings of revenge. But grace says, following the example of the blessed Lord and His martyr Stephen, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Stephen, the first Christian killed for his faith, prayed for the men stoning him. His example shows the verse is not an ideal beyond reach.
His urgent, pleading earnestness was for others — divine love for his enemies, the very men murdering him. It also reproduced the spirit of Christ… It stands before us as the pattern for a believer today: practical grace rising above all injury and malice.
- Source. This is not a rule invented for hard cases. It reveals what God is, and it governs the hearts of His children.
- Gift. Law could never command this; grace supplies it. You forgive enemies because God forgave you, and the Spirit changes your natural resentment.
- Speech. Bless the one who curses you. That means active good, not just a warmer feeling.
- Prayer. Never ask God for judgment on the persecutor. Ask Him to pardon and save the man.
- Reach. The Christian becomes a vessel through whom blessing flows out to others. Stephen showed that honour while his enemies stoned him.
To him that smites thee on the cheek, offer also the other; and from him that would take away thy garment, forbid not thy body-coat also.
These words sit in a section where the Lord tells His hearers to love their enemies. Now He presses that love to its hardest test: what to do when someone hits you or robs you. The question is not who is in the right. It is what a disciple should be when the wrong is done to him.
The old rule of "an eye for an eye" was fair, and it kept revenge from running wild. What the Lord asks here is different — not less than justice, but more.
Under the old arrangement the law laid down the principle, in righteousness, "An eye for an eye" (Ex. 21:24), and so restrained the wrath of man. Otherwise he would have demanded two eyes for one, in vengeance. But here an entirely new principle is introduced... It is the very opposite of nature, which loves to avenge itself. It is different from righteousness, which measures out even-handed justice. It is the beautiful spirit of grace... Even so the disciple should be more than righteous: he should be gracious. While walking through this world, it is better to lose his "cloak" than to give up those lovely principles of grace that mark him out as one who belongs to Christ.
The same saying appears in Matthew, but with the garments in the other order. Writers see a deliberate difference of situation here, not a slip.
In the Gospel of Matthew the case is of one who sues at law... Luke, on the contrary, writes, "him that takes away your cloak, do not forbid your tunic also." This is not a case of legal suing, but of illegal violence. The disciple is not to resist the robber who takes the outer garment, even if he goes on to take the inner one also... The Jew needed guarding above all on the side of law. But there is also violence in the world that breaks the law. The disciples needed to see this: it was their calling and privilege to hold fast their heavenly principles in the face of man's force, no less than law.
The garment named first was no small loss. It was the wide outer mantle "worn by men and women, and in which they wrapped themselves at night." If a man gave it as a pledge, the law made the lender return it by evening, since the owner had nothing else to sleep in.
If you resist, you keep your clothes. One writer weighs what that costs you.
It may be personal lawlessness, an unjust suit, or a hard law; but the disciple of Christ is taught by the Master to bow. What is a brutal insult compared with truly representing Him? Consistency with Him is worth far more than one's coat, and cloak as well.
This is not a rule for judges, police, or the defence of other people. The wording itself sets the boundary.
The government of the world is not in question, but the path of disciples in it... We may still let the man who sues us have the cloak as well as the coat he has gained by fraud. That is clearly within our rights. If the cause were another man's, we would have no such right. We may not help men escape justice or make light of it. The Lord could never lay down a general rule that His people should allow lawlessness. Nor would He have them treat the rights of others as unimportant. He speaks only of what is personal to oneself — "smite you," "sue you," "compel you."
One writer applies the same line to a child. If a bully beats your child at school, that "is not a question of my own rights merely," and you should report it.
Some say the Lord did not keep this saying Himself. When men struck Him at His trial, He answered them back. Commentators differ here. One notes that "He did not turn the other cheek," and asks us to grasp the principle rather than the letter (The Bible Treasury). Another answers the objection head-on.
Was this paying evil back in its own coin? On the contrary, it was One who did no sin, and no deceit was found in His mouth. When He was reviled, He did not revile in return. When He suffered, He did not threaten. In fact He offered far more than the other cheek. They spat in His face, beat Him, and struck Him with the palms of their hands in utter contempt. No — the Lord yielded to wrong instead of resisting it; and such is the true calling of the Christian.
- Insult — a blow to the cheek is a brutal insult, and what the Lord asks for is not defiance but yielding.
- Grace — "an eye for an eye" was fair. The disciple is called past fairness: more than righteous, he is to be gracious.
- Cost — Luke describes robbery, not a lawsuit. The mantle taken first was a man's covering for the night.
- Limit — the command covers wrongs done to you. It does not silence you when someone harms others, and it does not hand the world over to lawlessness.
- Likeness — clothes cost little. Being consistent with Christ is worth far more, and He gave more than the other cheek.