Loving Our Enemies
“But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you” (Matt. 5:44).
A slave in the West Indies, called Caesar by his master, had gained his freedom and also became a Christian. One day his lord took him to the slave market in search for some new slaves. After securing all he wanted the owner was surprised to hear Caesar beg for the purchase of yet one more, an old tired Negro. “Why, Caesar, should I buy him? Of what use can he possibly be?”
“Please, sir,” replied Caesar, “you must buy him for me.”
So the purchase was made and the old man returned to the plantation. Soon after he took sick, very sick, and Caesar cared for him as though he were his father. He washed him, waited on him, nursed him in every spare moment he found. Of course the people all noticed this, and tried to guess why Caesar was so devoted to the old man. Finally his master asked, “What connection do you have with that old man? Is he perhaps your father?”
Caesar simply smiled and answered, “No, master, he is not my father.”
“Well, is he some old heathen friend or relative?”
“No, master, he is no relative of mine.”
“He must be your friend then.”
“No, master, he is not my friend.”
“But who in the world is he?” asked the master impatiently. Caesar’s eyes moistened as he said, “He is my enemy. While yet a child he tore me from my parents and sold me as a slave. But I must love my enemy, master, I must!”
A slave in the West Indies, called Caesar by his master, had gained his freedom and also became a Christian. One day his lord took him to the slave market in search for some new slaves. After securing all he wanted the owner was surprised to hear Caesar beg for the purchase of yet one more, an old tired Negro. “Why, Caesar, should I buy him? Of what use can he possibly be?”
“Please, sir,” replied Caesar, “you must buy him for me.”
So the purchase was made and the old man returned to the plantation. Soon after he took sick, very sick, and Caesar cared for him as though he were his father. He washed him, waited on him, nursed him in every spare moment he found. Of course the people all noticed this, and tried to guess why Caesar was so devoted to the old man. Finally his master asked, “What connection do you have with that old man? Is he perhaps your father?”
Caesar simply smiled and answered, “No, master, he is not my father.”
“Well, is he some old heathen friend or relative?”
“No, master, he is no relative of mine.”
“He must be your friend then.”
“No, master, he is not my friend.”
“But who in the world is he?” asked the master impatiently. Caesar’s eyes moistened as he said, “He is my enemy. While yet a child he tore me from my parents and sold me as a slave. But I must love my enemy, master, I must!”