by Virginia Ramey Mollenkott

Last summer at a Kirkridge event, I mentioned my belief that when every knee bows to the sovereignty of Jesus’ name (an occurrence promised in Philippians 2:10), it will not be because an iron fist has forced resistant people to their knees but because God’s grace has somehow caused even the hardest hearts to open themselves toward Love. A young participant became very agitated: "Surely you aren’t implying that the likes of Saddam Hussein will eventually enter heaven? He’s incredibly brutal!" I replied, "Yes, he is brutal; and yes, I believe that sooner or later Eternal Love will melt every barrier. Saddam, Hitler, Osama bin Laden – all of us will be drawn Home by that inexorable Love."

What I didn’t say, not wanting to embarrass the young man, was that his thought-pattern was similar to that of his nemesis: namely, that a line of exclusion must be drawn; that some people are so evil that they deserve cruel retaliation; and that I am qualified to decide who those people are.

Granted, there is a huge quantitative difference between feeling horrified that someone brutal might eventually reach heaven, and actually slaughtering friends or family who seemed critical of you – or engineering the sudden death of thousands of unsuspecting strangers. But the quality of the reasoning is similar, and it is terrorist reasoning: These enemies are not at all like me and they deserve the utmost punishment.

In my own spiritual discipline, what I have been learning is that even a twinge of resentment is a sign that I am off-center. My ego has taken control and is demanding that things can only be right when done my way. And the more I indulge that sense of being separate from others – the more I assume my judgments to be accurate and those who differ to be wrong or evil – the more my spirit resembles a terrorist spirit. (On the ultimate plane, hatred and rage and even the slightest irritation are all manifestations of fear – and fear and love are mutually exclusive.)

I doubt that Saddam Hussein congratulates himself on being a terrorist. I would guess that he sees himself as a deserving potentate surrounded by danger who must therefore protect himself to continue his work and retain his power. And on videotape I have heard Osama bin Laden claim that his violence is the counter-violence that is the only resort for people who are profoundly oppressed. How does that thinking differ from my own rationalizations when I seethe because someone has failed to meet my expectations?

Undoubtedly, terrorist actions will affect many more people than will my irritable fuming; but the judgment that I am innocent and deserve the best, whereas someone else is guilty and deserves retribution is nevertheless terrorist thinking.

According to Neil Douglas Klotz, in Aramaic Jesus’ admonition to love our enemies implies "uniting with your enemies from the inside," first bringing ourselves back into spiritual rhythm and then seeking to share that rhythm with our opponents in a secret and inward fashion (see Prayers of the Cosmos, Harper & Row, 1990, p. 84).

So, then: What is it that calms my self-righteous turbulence after someone has offended or disappointed me? It is remembering that I am not so different from them, in that I would not appreciate being judged as I have judged them. Would I accuse myself of doing this? If not, I should not accuse another person of it. I do not know their motives any more than they know mine. And knowing that the memory of our human similarity is what silences my inner turbulence, through prayer and meditation I can project that same sense of re-union toward the minds of others.

Even the mind of Saddam Hussein. Or Osama bin Laden. Or that irritating next-door neighbor. Or American officials.

"Love your enemies" does not mean I cannot seek redress when I have been treated unjustly. It does not mean I cannot campaign for more just policies in the public sphere. It does not deny a nation’s right to take reasonable steps toward preventing future assaults against itself and its citizens. But it does mean that followers of Jesus may not imagine ourselves or our group or nation as embodying a purity under attack from others who in their guilt are totally different from ourselves. Indulged persistently, such imaginings breed terrorist acts.