The greatest commandment that Jesus gave was to love God with all of our being, and then to love and consider our neighbor as we do ourselves. It doesn't get any simpler than that. I don't understand then, how Christians can be so cautious with their love. Jesus' life was exemplary in the kind of love we were to behold. He demonstrated his love and power to people who had been exclusively marginalized and rejected: women, lepers, the possessed, tax collectors, prostitutes, gentiles, the unclean and sinners alike.
There have always been people who use the holy text to exclude and divide (Pharisees and Sadducees), but Jesus' very life challenged the philosophy of the Pharisaical Judaism of His culture. He healed on the Sabbath and encouraged the disciples to pick grain on this holy day of rest. Furthermore, Jesus included everyone that fit under the scrutiny of the purity laws that governed His society. He went to the untouchables and he touched them. He healed them, he included them into the kingdom that he came to establish. Jesus' love was all-encompassing and deliberate in setting a new system to operate within. A system that was only exclusionary if one chose so, never because they weren't welcome.
Can we agree that what we see playing out before us is dramatically different than what the life of Jesus modeled? Nadia Bolz-Weber said that "the more fear and shame we have about something, the more prone we are to manipulation - by the culture, by advertising, and especially the church." I think we have so much fear of people who are different, that we readily listen to those in influence when they give not only permission - but more dangerously - justifications to subvert unity and inclusivity. The church can paint a picture of saint and sinner, our government has its own stake to good and bad when they say American versus everyone else. Then there are those with political prestige who also claim (and warp) the gospel (just like the Sadducees and Pharisees) for the advancement of their nation-state, ahem Nationalism. We have to be able to examine our faith and ask if what we believe has helped bolster our allegiance to the U.S., or the actual kingdom of God. There is a very radical difference between the two.
Have you ever heard the saying "The gospel isn't offensive because of who it keeps out, but who it lets in?" It's really easy to love people who fit into our neat little definition of "lovable," but what about all of the people we're supposed to love, like our neighbors? All of them. Don't we need the grace and love of Christ to enable us to love unconditionally and without discrimination? We need Jesus to embrace the unclean (the woman with the bleeding issue, prostitute at the well) or a sexual anomaly (eunuchs). We need Jesus to help us get past our warped philosophies and to embrace the politicians who put the empire above the people (tax collectors), to love those who persecute us (Romans/Pontius Pilate/humanity itself). It goes against social norms to love people on "the outside" of the empire: the immigrant, the refugee, Muslims, Palestinians. We have plenty of problems inside the empire too, particularly with those whose backs this country was built upon: BIPOC.
Jesus was the living, breathing gospel in perfect human form. I'd say that instead of cherry-picking verses to justify our own personal beliefs, that we set theology and interpretation aside and look to the life of this man who is the word-made-flesh. We can misinterpret a lot of historical and contextual meaning, but we cannot misunderstand His life of inclusivity. So I challenge us all to look in our hearts and to find who we see as the outsiders, and to ask Jesus to challenge and examine the ways our faith has made an idol out of keeping them on the outside. Is it nationalism, fear and caution, self-preservation? Ask for forgiveness, get closer to those you are challenged to love, and see how different the gospel looks then.