Who is my enemy? 

Who stirs up such ugly feelings 

of angry hate-filled vitriol 

That I purse my lips 

Poised to spit? 

Who does my finger point to

As the cause of all pain, 

As the reason for our setbacks? 

What strange brother hurts the world 

And strikes the weak and weary?

What angry awful person 

Kicks the wounded? 

There are certain sins 

That even I won’t accuse myself of, 

Believing I am better 

Than any man who commits them. 

And I boldly hold my mirror to his face

Proclaiming his mistakes,  

Confounded by his choices,  

Believing he is selfish. 

Being righteous, knowing I am right; 

Being hateful, knowing he is wrong.  

Yet still judging 

What I truly know nothing about. 

Forgetting that we share a God. 

We wear different clothes

And different skins

My “enemy” and I. 

I have made him a stranger

And I reject all his offerings 

Believing we are too different to shake hands. 

The wall between us may be man-made

But I am the man who made it; 

Not really to protect my kingdom,

But to ensure we can never be viewed as one.  

Do I dare 

Recognize myself in him? 

Or do I reject that abhorrent thought 

So quickly 

I do not stop to ponder its possibility?

If I fairly look into his unfamiliar eyes 

Will I see in them

All my own flaws, my own fears

All my own terrifying shame?

Because what I hate about myself 

Is so easily spotted in others.  

Someday, when I am ready 

I will understand 

That I owe my “enemy” my gratitude.  

I needed him to hold my guilt. 

I wanted him to take the blame. 

My sins were too heavy to bear, 

So I gave them away

To the one whom I believed

Deserved to carry them.  

What will it take for me to finally see

That my “enemy” 

Is just my Savior in disguise?