SOME NEW REASONS FOR “LOVING ENEMIES” Nobody ever amounts to anything who lives without conflict with obstacles. It seems to be a law of the universe that nothing really good can be got or held by soft, easy means. The Persians were so impressed with this stern condition of life that they interpreted the universe as the scene of endless warfare between hostile powers of the invisible world. Ormuzd, the god of light, and Ahriman, the god of darkness, were believed to be engaged in a continual Armageddon. There could be no truce in the strife until one or the other should win the victory by the annihilation of his opponent. This Persian dualism has touched all systems of thought and has left its influence upon all the religions of the world. The reasons why it has appealed so powerfully to men of all generations are, of course, that there is so much conflict involved in life and that no achievement of goodness is ever made without a hard battle for it against opposing forces. But if all this opposition and struggle is due to an “enemy,” we certainly ought to love this “enemy,” because it turns out to be the greatest possible blessing to us that we are forced to struggle with difficulties and to wrestle for what we get. “Count it all joy,” said the Apostle James in substance, writing to his friends of the Dispersion, “when you fall into manifold testings, or trials, knowing that the proving of your faith worketh steadfastness, and let steadfastness have its perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, lacking in nothing.” St. Paul thought once that his “thorn in the flesh” was conferred upon him by Satan and was the malicious messenger of an enemy; but in the slow process of experience he came to see that the painful “thorn” exercised a real ministry in his life, that through his suffering and hardship he got a higher meaning of God’s grace; and he discovered that divine power was thus made perfect through his weakness, so that he learned to love the “enemy” that buffeted him. The Psalmist who wrote our best loved psalm, the twenty-third, thought at first that God was his Shepherd because he led him in green pastures and beside still waters where there was no struggle and no enemy to fear. But he learned at length that in the dark valleys of the shadow and on the rough jagged hillsides God was no less a good Shepherd than on the level plains and in the lush grass; and he found at last that even “in the presence of enemies” he could be fed with good things and have his table spread. The overflowing cup and the anointed head were not discovered on the lower levels of ease and comfort; they came out of the harder experiences when “enemies” of his peace were busy supplying obstacles and perplexities for him to overcome.