Permission to be Curious about Your Enemies

on the booth behind me. The women’s conversation ranged from the quality of the omelets (good) to the quality of their auto mechanic (not so good). They talked about neighborhoods, the weather, who was going to pick up the check, and of course, politics.

The main subject of conversation was how badly things were going and how afraid they were for the future of the country. Now, fear and judgment are almost irresistable to the human being, no matter how advanced your spiritual practices. They seem to give us a sense of control while also revealing how out of control things actually are.

It feels great to judge other human beings, don’t you think? Look how stupid they are, how poorly they’re doing, and by comparison how smart and succesful I am. I’m in control of myself! At least by comparison.

And there’s something about fear in particular that’s almost viral. Should I be afraid too? Do they know something I don’t? Should I be afraid of these people in particular?

So when their conversation started veering into some of the more heated issues of our day - COVID, guns, elections - my partner and I were sitting rapt over our rapidly cooling bacon.

He asked, “Should we say something?” Me, being generally conflict averse for both good and bad reasons, shook my head. “But what if they say something homophobic or racist?” Damn, great question.

My mind filled with all the articles and trainings and experiences I’ve had over the past few years about how those with (white, cis-appearing privilege) need to do the work of speaking to other (white, cis-appearing) people when they say racist, homophobic things in public so folks of color, gender non-conforming, differently abled, and other marginalized folks don’t have to bear that burden too.

I sat quietly listening to the women and wondering if I was actually a coward and not an ally like I hope I am. In that moment I remembered something my minister once said to me in seminary when I was asking what it was like being lead pastor of a congregation.

She told me that my first job was to love the people. Specifically, if I ever wanted them to change and grow, which most ministers do, that they needed to know that I loved them first. That they didn’t have any reason to listen to me or take my suggestions if they weren’t certain they were also loved for who they were already.

This has been true in my own life. Plenty of folks have given me advice, admonishments, suggestions for change, and just general feedback. Honestly, the only time I listened was when I knew they were speaking with love.

Now, it’s a tall order to truly love those who truly vote/publish/blog/podcast/get elected to do harm to me and people I love. But what does feel possible - and is actually closely linked to the field of possibilites - is curiosity. In truth, love begins with curiosity.

Of course you know I’m going to bring Jesus into this. The Gospel of Matthew tells us this story:

While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Plenty of judgment to go around in this story! And no one was more politcally abhorred in the scritpures than those tax collectors. Even the most humble had full reign to be self-righteous and judgmental about tax collectors.

Nevertheless, Jesus welcomes them in for dinner as a guest in someone else’s house, which is max bold and I love it. To politically out myself, that would be like me inviting a January 6th insurrectionist into my queer black friend’s house for dinner. And yet Jesus says it is mercy most desired here. And it is the sick who have need.

I don’t want to get into judgments about the spiritual health or sickness of someone on the opposite side of the political spectrum because I don’t think Jesus particularly cared that it was tax collectors he was dining with. I think he would have dined with whoever the local enemies-of-the-day were. He would have dined with any of the ‘sinners’, those judged by society for whatever the reason.

And he would have welcomed them with curiosity about who they were, what was keeping their spirit alive, how their family was doing, and if they were interested in his curious message about all-means-all inclusion in the Kin-dom of God.

Luckily, the women at Romeo’s didn’t say anything homophobic or racist. For all I know, they could have been a queer couple themselves with blended international undocumented family members who vote Green party. But if they had said something, and I felt compelled to speak up, I hope I would have started with curiosity.

So I give you permission this holiday season (and every season actually) to simply have curiosity about your enemies. If they incarnated on this earth, it’s a safe bet that they’re here to learn and grow as a soul, no matter what their current condition or beliefs.

And more than that, I have never been more changed or become more loving than towards those who considered me their enemy and yet came to me with a curious heart.

May all enemies, us included, be blessed this day.