Although it would be easier at age 48 to take up the violin or pole-vaulting, I am tiptoeing into a long-postponed project of learning how to love my enemies. Not that I haven’t talked a good game or done admirable work up to now. I appeared on TV arm in arm with a Muslim imam to calm public ire the evening of 9-11. I met often to reconcile with a man who sued my church. But aren’t these so-called enemies easy to love? My real foes, upon whom I’ve never expended much love, are my “enemies of thought,” people all around me who just think wrong.