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.
To every one that asks of thee, give; and from him that takes away what is thine, ask it not back.
Luke 6:30 sits inside the Lord's teaching on how His followers meet personal wrong. It sets two demands side by side: give to anyone who asks, and do not chase what someone takes. Does that mean a disciple must hand over whatever anyone asks for, and never seek back what a thief took?
The saying does not measure how sinful or sinless a person is. It sets the rule a disciple lives by.
This passage has nothing to do with the presence or absence of sin. It is about the principles of the believer's conduct — that is, about taking his Master's principles completely as his rule of conduct. Here again the Christian is not to act on the law of retaliation, or on the principles of the Jews. He is to act on the principles of Jesus Christ Himself.
The two halves of the verse train two habits. An open hand meets need. Letting go of stolen goods shows where the disciple's life rests.
It is no question of foolish extravagance, but of an open hand and heart to every call of need. "From one who takes away your goods do not demand them back." This matters greatly. There should be patient endurance of personal wrong. There should also be the testimony that our life does not consist in the things we have.
Behind the command stands what the disciple has already received.
He did not stop there. He told the disciple to give as a habit to the one who asked. For what had the disciple himself not received from the divine Giver, beyond everything he asked? As the object of countless and rich mercies, was he to turn away from someone who would ask or borrow?
Commentators differ over how far the word "everyone" reaches. One writer sees no limit set here, and measures the command against the law and against the way God gives.
Even under the law, a Jew was not allowed to lend to his brother at interest. Instead, he was to open his hand wide to him. The Lord Jesus here sets no limits on giving and lending. For God, the great Giver, did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all. He who freely gives us all things along with Him loves a cheerful giver.
Others hold that the disciple must weigh the request, and that real need is what the verse has in view.
Giving to everyone who asks from us must be subject to sober wisdom. Someone may ask for a large sum to spend on a questionable project, and concern for his own good might be reason to refuse. We must also draw a firm line when people who claim to be the Lord's servants urge us to give to their own work. Too many take advantage of Christianity to make money. But if one is in need and asks for something to relieve that need, we ought to be ready to give him what is necessary... The Lord is seeking in all of this to draw out the genuine faith of His people. He is certainly not bullying His own... Also, if someone has taken away what belongs to us, faith will make no demands for its return. But if someone borrows and forgets to repay, it would be only right to remind him — not because we want our rights, but to help him become dependable.
Both agree the heart must stay open. They differ on whether the disciple weighs the request.
Christ first gave this instruction to those walking with Him on earth. Its spirit did not end with them.
These instructions fitted exactly the people called to follow Christ during His time on earth. Their spirit applies just as much to those called to follow Him while He is absent in heaven. This is the day of grace, when the gospel of grace is preached. So it matters greatly that the spirit of grace should mark us. How often, sadly, our conduct has contradicted the cause we belong to. A little ungracious practice by the preacher or his friends can cancel out a great deal of gracious preaching.
- Received — The disciple gives because the divine Giver gave to him first, beyond all he asked.
- Rule — His rule is not his own nature but his Master's principles, which replace the law of retaliation.
- Open — Giving here is not extravagance but an open hand and heart to every call of need, weighed by sober wisdom.
- Loosened — Letting stolen goods go proves that life does not consist in the things we have.
- Reflected — Ungracious practice cancels gracious preaching, so the spirit of grace must mark those who preach it.
And as ye wish that men should do to you, do *ye* also to them in like manner.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And if ye love those that love you, what thank is it to you? for even sinners love those that love them.
Jesus has just told His disciples to love their enemies. Now He asks what our ordinary love is worth. If we only love people who love us, He says, we have done nothing that bad men do not already do.
The question turns on a single word. Older translations put it as "what thank is it to you?" — and one writer traces that word back to the Greek:
"Thank," or "grace" (χάρις). Matthew (Matt. 5:46) has "reward," where Luke in verse 24 has "consolation."
The word is grace. So the Lord is not asking what we gain. He is asking what grace there is in love like that.
Luke's choice of word carries weight. One commentator weighs it against the parallel account in Matthew:
To love those who love us is not the point for a Christian; it is only a human principle. As the Lord says here, "even sinners love those who love them." Luke does not say tax collectors or Gentiles, as Matthew does. He says "sinners," which matches his usual moral tone. This was true of people everywhere, and the word "sinner" is both fitting and forceful. Not only men, but bad men, may love those who love them. Doing good to those who do good to us is also only a fair return, and even evil people can make it. The same goes for lending, when they hope to borrow later or to be paid back. Sinners do just as much. But for us the word is "love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great."
If returned love proves nothing, what does? The line falls between two kinds of love altogether:
The spirit of grace stands out in verses 27-38. 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 someone who loves, blesses, and gives.
So where does this higher love come from? One writer links the verse to the new birth:
God is love in His nature, and all love finds its source in God. So those who belong to God should show their love to one another — the love that belongs to God and His children. It is impossible for someone who has not been born again to show divine love, for "everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God" (1 John 4:7). Men love with natural love, and "even sinners love those who love them" (Luke 6:32). But only those born of God can display the divine nature, loving with the same love seen in Jesus.
The standard here is not a better grade of human decency. One writer traces it back to the start of the passage:
From verse 27 He shows how His disciples must live. They were to show God — to unfold what was displayed in Him... "Love your enemies." God loved us when we were His enemies, and now we have to show in practice what God is... Flesh can love for love (v. 32, 33), but the disciples of Christ are called to imitate God and walk in love.
Does our love wait for a signal before it moves? One writer catches the excuse we often make:
Notice how independent grace is. Rain and dew wait for no one. God acts on His own, out of His own heart, when He gives His gracious blessing. Those who drink in His grace act from Him in the same way, without first waiting to see signs of worthiness. We are often ready to say, "If only we could see some return for our love!" That is not it. If only we were a little more conscious of God's infinite love and grace to us, we would be more like a dew from Him to others.
- Grace measured. The word behind "benefit" is grace — Jesus is asking how much grace there is in love that only answers love.
- Grace absent. Returned love proves nothing. Bad men manage it, and they can do good and lend as well.
- Grace received. Love that reaches an enemy is divine, not human, and only those born of God can show it.
- Grace copied. God loved us while we were His enemies. So the disciple's pattern is not a better human standard. It is God Himself.
- Grace flowing. Like dew that waits for no one, grace moves first — it does not hold back until it sees a return.
And if ye do good to those that do good to you, what thank is it to you? for even sinners do the same.
Jesus is showing His disciples how they are to live. He weighs the kindness that answers good with good, notes that sinners do as much, and sets the disciple's standard elsewhere.
The word Luke uses is not about thanks but about grace. Matthew's parallel uses a different word.
Luke 6:32. — "Thank" here is the word for "grace" (charis); the Latin Vulgate has "gratia." Matthew (Matt. 5:46) has "reward"; the matching word in Luke, in verse 24, is "consolation."
Kindness repaid with kindness is a fair exchange, and bad men manage it. Matthew names tax collectors and Gentiles; Luke says "sinners," and that takes in everyone.
Loving those who love us is not the point for a Christian. It is a merely human principle — as the Lord says with emphasis here, "even sinners love those who love them." Matthew names tax collectors or Gentiles; Luke says "sinners," which matches his ordinary moral tone. This was true of people everywhere, and the word "sinner" is fitting and forceful. Not only men, but bad men, can love those who love them. In the same way, doing good to those who do good to us is only a right return, and even evil people can make it. The same is true of lending, when they hope to borrow or to be repaid. Sinners do just as much.
Two habits can look alike from outside. One writer marks the difference: whether you expect anything back.
This stands in contrast with the way of the world. The world is quite capable of returning love for love, of doing good to those who do good to them, and of lending in the hope of getting back as much. But to love and do good and lend with no hope of return — that would be conduct fit for the sons of the Most High, because He is kind to the unthankful and the evil.
Law can tell me to love my neighbour as myself. What Jesus asks here goes further, and it reaches down into pride and selfishness.
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.
Human nature can already return love for love. The disciple has another pattern in front of him: God Himself, shown in Christ.
From verse 27 He shows what the conduct of the disciples must be. They were to make God known, to unfold what was displayed in Him. The grace that was in Him in fullness and perfection should show itself again in them — that is the principle of our path, sadly as we all fail in it… Human nature can love in return for love (v. 32, 33), but the disciples of Christ are called to imitate God, and to walk in love.
These questions build to a closing call. Luke words it differently from Matthew, and his wording suits readers with no Old Testament background.
So the call in this Gospel does not run as in Matthew, "You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect," but "Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful."… The disciple, taught by Jesus, had the Father's Name made known to him, and his perfection is to show his Father's character in grace that makes no distinctions — not in the spirit of law. Writing for non-Jewish readers, Luke simply calls them to be merciful as their Father was merciful. This would be clear even to people who had no detailed knowledge of the Old Testament.
- Grace, not thanks. The word behind "benefit" is the word for grace; Matthew's parallel uses "reward." The question is not whether people thank you, but whether grace is there.
- Grace missing. Doing good to those who do good to you is only a fair return. Even bad men make it — Luke calls them "sinners," a word that takes in everyone.
- Grace beyond law. Law says love your neighbour as yourself. Grace says give yourself up entirely, because God forgave you and is kind to the unthankful.
- Grace reproduced. Human nature can love in return for love. The disciple is to unfold what was displayed in Christ, so that the grace full and perfect in Him shows in us.
- Grace for all. The call here is not "be perfect" but "Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful" — clear to any reader, with or without an Old Testament background.
And if ye lend to those from whom ye hope to receive, what thank is it to you? [for] even sinners lend to sinners that they may receive the like.
Jesus has been teaching His disciples to love their enemies. Here He tests a respectable kind of generosity: the loan made with an eye on repayment. His question is not whether such lending is wrong, but whether it earns any credit, since bad people already do the same.
Verses 32–34 give three examples that work the same way. Love repays love. Good repays good. Money goes out where the lender counts on getting it back. One writer notes that Luke does not say "tax collectors" or "Gentiles" here. The word he chooses carries weight.
Loving those who love us is not the point for a Christian. It is only a human principle. As the Lord stresses here, "even sinners love those who love them." Matthew has tax collectors or Gentiles; Luke has "sinners," which fits his usual moral tone. This was true of people everywhere, and the word "sinner" is fitting and forceful. Not only ordinary people, but bad people, can love those who love them. In the same way, doing good to those who do good to us is only a fair return, and evil people are capable of it. So is lending, when they hope to borrow or to be repaid. Sinners do just as much.
The world can do everything this verse describes. One writer marks the point where a Christian's conduct parts from it.
The way of the world stands in contrast with this. The world is quite able to return love for love, to do good to those who do good to them, and to lend in the hope of getting back as much. But to love, do good, and lend with no hope of return — that would be conduct fit for the sons of the Most High, because He is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.
The next verse tells us to lend and expect nothing in return. Some translations render that phrase as "never despairing" instead. One commentator argues that verse 34 settles the question, because it states the very thing verse 35 reverses.
So the question turns mainly on what the context requires. When you weigh verses 30-34 with care, it is surprising that such an unnatural sense should be given to the word in verse 35. Look above all at the verse just before it: "And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount." What could be simpler than the opposite call of grace — love, do good, lend, "hoping for nothing again"? (Compare Luke 14:12.)
The standard here is not fair exchange. One writer points to what God Himself has already done.
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.
If nothing comes back, is the money simply lost? One writer answers from Psalms and Proverbs.
"The wicked borrows but does not pay back, but the righteous is generous and gives" (Psalm 37:21). That is in beautiful harmony with the God who is rich in mercy. He showed us that mercy by making us alive when we were dead in our sins (Ephesians 2; see also Luke 6:30-36). Again, "whoever is generous to the poor lends to the LORD, and he will repay him for his deed" (Proverbs 19:17).
What about a borrower who never means to repay? One writer takes up that case.
There are people who would not ask for a gift, but would not hesitate to ask for a loan, though they have little intention of paying it back. It would be wrong for us to encourage dishonesty in anyone. Yet as far as we ourselves are concerned, it is better to suffer wrong than to demand our rights. Faith on our part can leave such things in the hand of God.
- Return — A loan made with repayment in view is only an exchange, and the Lord asks what credit that earns.
- Sinners — Luke's word is deliberate: even bad people manage this much, so it cannot be the mark of a disciple.
- Nothing back — The call is to love, do good, and lend with no return in view. That is the plain sense of the words, and the reverse of what this verse describes.
- Beyond law — Law says love your neighbour as yourself. Grace says give yourself away, because God is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.
- Repaid — What looks like a lost loan is a loan to the LORD, who repays; faith can leave the account in His hands.
But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing in return, and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be sons of [the] Highest; for *he* is good to the unthankful and wicked.
Jesus tells His disciples how to treat people who give nothing back: enemies, and borrowers who never repay. It links a command to love and lend with a great reward, with the name "sons of the Most High," and with God's own kindness to the ungrateful and the evil.
The Lord has just measured ordinary decency and found it common. Loving people who love you back takes nothing more than ordinary human nature. The same goes for lending in the hope of getting something out of it.
To love those who love us is not the point for a Christian; it is a mere human principle. As the Lord says here, "even sinners love those who love them." Matthew has tax collectors or Gentiles; Luke has "sinners," which suits the ordinary moral tone of this Gospel. This was true of man everywhere, and the word "sinner" fits exactly and carries weight. Not only men, but bad men, may love those who love them. Doing good to those who do good to us is only a fair return, and even evil people can make it. The same is true of lending, when they hope to borrow or to receive.
This is not advice about managing money. It touches the person who asks for a loan he never means to repay, and it settles who takes the loss.
Genuine love is much more than this. It has honest care even for enemies, doing good and lending without expecting to get anything back (v.35). Some people would never ask for a gift, yet they will readily ask for a loan, though they have little intention of paying it back. It would be wrong for us to encourage dishonesty in anyone. But for ourselves, it is better to suffer wrong than to demand our rights. Faith on our part can leave such things in the hand of God.
Commentators set this teaching apart from anything the law asked.
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.
The behaviour Jesus calls for does not earn the relationship. It shows what family the person already belongs to.
They were to be gentle and yielding toward their enemies. They were to treat others as they would want to be treated. They were to remember whose children they were, and to show by their behaviour the outflow of the Divine nature — that they were sons, as we should read, of the Highest, who is kind to the unthankful and to the evil (6:35).
The pattern is not an ideal but a Person. What Jesus asks of the disciples, God has already done to them.
They were to show God — to unfold what was displayed in Him. The grace that was in Him in fullness and perfection should come out in them, though we all fail sadly in this. That is the principle of our path. "Love your enemies," etc. God loved us when we were His enemies, and we have now to show practically what God is.
The last clause of the verse is the reason for everything before it.
He gives the increase of the earth in answer to man's toil upon it. Every good and perfect gift comes down from Him. He keeps giving, though the crowds never so much as thank Him for His gifts. He makes His sun rise on the evil and the good. He sends rain on the just and the unjust, and He is kind to the unthankful and the evil.
The verse promises a great reward, yet writers warn against making that promise the motive.
The service of love is never influenced by recompense. Reward is not held before the soul as the motive for doing anything. But when we find the path of service hard, then the crown is held before us to encourage us to go on.
- Source — God is kind to the unthankful and evil. He loved us while we were His enemies, and His kindness is the reason the verse gives.
- Standard — Loving those who love you, and lending to get back, is what any sinner does. The new standard is love with nothing expected in return.
- Grace — Law said love your neighbour as yourself. Grace says give yourself up, and it tests all the pride and selfishness in us.
- Sonship — Acting this way does not buy the relationship. It shows whose children we already are and lets the Divine nature flow out.
- Reward — The reward is real and great. But it encourages us on a hard path; it is never the motive, since love that serves for pay is not love.
Be ye therefore merciful, even as your Father also is merciful.
Jesus closes His teaching on loving enemies by pointing the disciple to the Father's own character. That raises the question every reader feels: is this a standard we must reach, or a family likeness we are meant to show?
One writer points to the small word the Lord uses — not with the Father, but as the Father.
What a blessed character of God comes out here! It is not righteousness, though surely there was that; but in the world where God had to do with the unthankful and evil, He shows grace. For the angels He has not grace, but love: but Christ in this world of sin is grace (that is, love to those who deserve it not). "Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful." It is not "with" but "as your Father." As He loves His enemies, so do you; He is merciful, be merciful also. ... It must cost us something; it cost the life of Christ. His love was a stream, which, if it met with hindrances in its way, only went on flowing over, and leaving them behind till it reached the cross.
Matthew's account of similar teaching closes with a call to be perfect. Luke closes with mercy. One writer finds the reason in the readers each Gospel had in view.
So the call in our Gospel is not the one in Matthew, "You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." It is "Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful." The perfection in Matthew seems to point back to the call on Abraham, whose perfection was to walk in integrity, trusting in the shadow of the Almighty. The disciple, taught by Jesus, had the Father's Name declared to him. His perfection is to display his Father's character in grace that makes no distinctions — not in the spirit of law. Writing for readers who were not Jews, Luke simply calls them to be merciful as their Father was merciful.
One writer calls this word merciful remarkable, and finds the whole of our salvation inside it.
Now this word "merciful" is most remarkable... They are all the mercies expressed in redemption — the unfoldings of the heart of God in the display of His grace in our salvation... So when our blessed Lord tells us to be merciful, as our Father is merciful, He reminds us that it is our responsibility to represent the Father. We are to tell out the virtues of Him who has called us out of darkness into His marvellous light. We are to act towards others as He has acted towards us, so that the Father's heart and character show in our walk and ways. So we are to do good to all, to be givers who expect nothing back, and to love our enemies. Otherwise we would misrepresent our God and Father.
Before the command comes the relationship. One writer sums up the whole passage:
Verses 27-36. The character of God their Father, shown in the grace displayed in Christ, which they were to imitate. He reveals, note, the Father's name and puts them in the place of children.
So the behaviour that follows flows from within. It is not worked up from outside.
If hated, they were to love and to do good to them. Cursed, they were to bless them. Wrongly used, they were to pray for them. A gentle, yielding spirit towards enemies was to mark them. They were to treat others as they would want to be treated. They were to remember whose children they were, and to show by their behaviour the outflow of the Divine nature: they were sons of the Highest, who is kind to the unthankful and to the evil.
Mercy shows itself most when we have a right to press a claim and let it go.
Some people would not ask for a gift, but they would happily ask for a loan they have little intention of paying back. It would be wrong for us to encourage dishonesty in anyone. But so far as we ourselves are concerned, it is better to suffer wrong than to demand our rights. Faith on our part can leave such things in the hand of God. If we do, our reward will be great. In daily life we shall be children of the Highest, showing His character of kindness to all, whether they are thankful or not. The reason for our being merciful is simply that our Father is merciful (v.36).
- Received — the mercy commanded is first the mercy shown to us in our own salvation; we give away what we were given.
- Relationship — He reveals the Father's name and puts us in the place of children before He asks for any conduct.
- Reproduced — the standard is not a rule but a likeness: as He is merciful, so be merciful.
- Reach — His kindness falls on the unthankful and the evil, so ours cannot stop at those who deserve it.
- Real cost — mercy is never free; the same love met every obstacle and flowed on until it reached the cross.