In Luke 6:27-38, Jesus outlines beautifully, yet weirdly, that a Christian, when hated, responds with love. When cursed, a Christian responds with blessing. A Christian, when abused, responds with prayer. When encountering someone in need, a Christian blesses generously. When things are stolen, a Christian, does not seek repayment.
Like I said, this is weird and seems backward.
Cursed, slapped, hurt, robbed, abused, or offended… even though these are all just little moments that could happen throughout any day or within any week, what Jesus shows us is that these are all little opportunities and moments for mercy and grace—leave it to Jesus to spin something bad and make it an opportunity for good–and by listing to them in rapid succession, Jesus overwhelms us with how practical, how real, how tangible, how concrete, and how utterly and desperately needed these opportunities for grace and little moments for mercy are in this sinful, broken world.
And we don’t need special skills to do any of this. It seems like the hardest thing in the world, but in actuality, it’s all very simple. A Christian doesn’t need an advanced degree in theology to be merciful and gracious. Instead, it’s as simple as the fact that having received mercy, we now offer mercy. We are willing to suffer because we have One who suffered for us. We love because we have known the greatest love. And, above all, we know that Jesus, who has shown mercy, and love and suffered for us, now reigns over all things and that means every moment of our lives, too. And knowing, trusting, and believing this changes everything.
Let me give you an example of one of these moments of mercy that I’m talking about; it’s an extreme example of just how ‘changed’ Jesus can make things. It’s a powerful moment of mercy from the year 2017. It happened in Egypt.
It was May 26, 2017, when a Coptic Christian church was attacked by terrorists during worship. Forty-five Christians died in the explosion. The next day, a woman whose husband died in the explosion was being interviewed on an Egyptian TV station, and the interviewer, who was Muslim, was talking with her about it, and asked her how she would respond to the people who did this terrible thing. she said this: “If I could talk to the person who did this… I’d tell that person, we didn’t do anything to hurt you.” Then she started crying, yet through the tears, she continued, “We didn’t hurt you, you hurt us… But we want God to forgive you, and we also forgive you.”
“Believe me,” she said desperately, and then repeated again, “We forgive you,”
Now, right there, that’s is an extraordinary moment of mercy! Who of us have ever had to forgive like that?
We think we have people in our lives who have hurt us and been mean to us—we call them our “enemies”. But compared to this woman’s pain and anger and loss, what can we possibly know of having enemies? Losing your husband to a terrorist attack… if there’s ever a reason to rage with hate, this is it! Common sense would dictate that when something like that happens you hold on to a simmering, unrelenting anger. Don’t you?
However, what was truly remarkable is how the Muslim interviewer reacted to this woman’s gracious response. He was speechless for about 10 seconds—which on live TV is an eternity! Finally, haltingly, he said to the camera, “The Coptic Christians of Egypt… they’re made of steel. If it were my father or anyone in my family who died, I could never say something like this. These people have so much forgiveness.” And then, shaking his head, he added: “Their faith and their religious conviction…. these people are made from a different substance.”
“…made from a different substance.” Just think. Here is an outsider, an unbeliever’s gut-level reaction to the Christian faith in action. That’s exactly what Jesus is describing in our text today. Christians are to be a people who are different from the world—made from a different substance. We are made from something else—something not of this world. We love our enemies, and we forgive them and we show them mercy. How odd. How amazing. How weird. How beautiful.
O Lord, open my lips... 
