Why Have Even Christians Had Faith in Violence?

As we close out 2021 let us reflect on the contrast of the angels’ Christmas greeting, “peace on earth, good will to all,” with how the year began i.e. even professing Christians violently storming the capitol building of the United States.

In my last post we saw that Jesus perfectly reveals God’s nature. He did so most clearly on the cross where we see perfect love enduring the greatest  pain and humiliation in order to bring salvation and show humanity his new nonviolent way of living. Many Christians are OK with Jesus bringing us salvation, but not sure about the idea that his death demonstrates a nonviolent lifestyle for us to follow. 

The church has tended to focus on sexual sin as the great evil while downplaying the role violence plays in human affairs. Yes, sexual immorality is to be avoided at all costs, but so is our innate tendency to violence. Why, then, has there been a neglect of this essential biblical teaching? One reason is our great faith in violence as the means to get what we want. A glance at world history establishes this as an indisputable fact. Corpses and maimed bodies litter the millenia as powerful tribes and nations subdue their less powerful neighbours and plunder their resources. The strong dominate the weak. The rich spoil the poor. In 2021 we saw human faith in violence continuing unabated as Putin invaded Ukraine. 

That nations use violence to get what they want surprises no one. What is much more difficult to understand is how those who claim to have accepted Jesus’ gospel of peace participate in it. The blunt truth is that professing Christians did take part in the Jan. 6th violence protesting the supposed election steal of Joe Biden from Donald Trump.(see here)
“Indeed, antagonistic religious imagery was easy to spot at the Capitol raid the next day. One insurrectionist photographed in the building’s rotunda wore military fatigues with a patch on the shoulder that showcased a cross and the words “Armor of God.” Just below was another patch featuring a slogan wrapped around a stylized skull used by the comic book character The Punisher: ‘God will judge our enemies. We’ll arrange the meeting.’”(source)

One factor that has facilitated this willingness to engage in violence is “Christian nationalism” ideology. This set of beliefs includes the idea that God was behind the founding of the U.S. as a kind of promised land and that it is one’s God-given duty to keep it that way by routing out enemies. For some this even includes doing so violently if need be. “Christian nationalism really tends to draw on a kind of an Old Testament narrative, a kind of blood purity and violence where the Christian nation needs to be defended against the outsiders,”. . .(source)

Thankfully, many Christians are calling out the idolatry which equates the state with God’s kingdom. Several hundred prominent evangelical clergy members launched the “Say ‘No’ to Christian Nationalism” campaign to “recognize and condemn the role Christian nationalism played in the violent, racist, anti-American insurrection at the United States Capitol on January 6.(source) Christianity Today adopted a similar posture in “offer[ing] advice to church leaders trying to deradicalize members of their own community.”(source)

One need not take a pacifist position to condemn such violence. There may be occasions when violence must be reluctantly engaged in, for example, when confronting someone raping a woman or the invasion of Ukraine spoken of above. The difficulty lies in our sinful human nature combined with the effectiveness of violence to get our way. That is, once we allow that there are some circumstances where violence is necessary, history has shown that it is easy to expand the number of such occasions to the point where violence can be justified pretty much for whatever we want.

For example, scripture was used to support the violent European conquest of North America. One American colonist who, after his group had completely annihilated an entire tribe of Native Americans, testified, “Sometimes Scripture declareth women and children must perish with their parents…We had sufficient light from the Word of God for our proceedings.”(source)

A 1493 papal Bull justified declaring war on any natives in South America who refused to adhere to Christianity. The jurist Encisco claimed in 1509: “The king has every right to send his men to the Indies to demand their territory from these idolaters because he had received it from the pope. If the Indians refuse, he may quite legally fight them, kill them, and enslave them, just as Joshua enslaved the inhabitants of the country of Canaan. (source)

The same logic was used in the American Revolutionary War, the Civil War and countless others. 

Another reason for our faith in violence besides its ability to help us get what we want is what Walter Wink has described as “the myth of redemptive violence.” 

“[The myth of redemptive violence] enshrines the belief that violence saves, that war brings peace, that might makes right. It is one of the oldest continuously repeated stories in the world. … The belief that violence ”saves” is so successful because it doesn’t seem to be mythic in the least. Violence simply appears to be the nature of things. It’s what works. It seems inevitable, the last and, often, the first resort in conflicts. If a god is what you turn to when all else fails, violence certainly functions as a god. What people overlook, then, is the religious character of violence. It demands from its devotees an absolute obedience unto-death.” (source)

 World War I stands out as the prototypical example, being labeled “the war to end all wars.” In 1928, just to try to make that phrase a reality the nations of the world, including Germany, signed the Kellogg-Briand Pact where they agreed not to use war as a means of settling a dispute. Of course, we know how long that lasted. The hope that WWI was the “war to end all wars” evaporated like the end of the rainbow.

While violence in the short term may help us get what we want, its ability to bring lasting peace has been a spectacular failure. Nevertheless, the myth that violence will defeat violence continues as seemingly the number one strategy humans rely on. We’re indoctrinated with this propaganda from our earliest days in the form of fairy stories. The hero battles a monster, dragon or wicked king and brings about eternal peace i.e. they all “live happily ever after.” 

The indoctrination doesn’t stop with children’s stories. Hart Wiens, the Director of Scripture Translation at the Canadian Bible Society, writes about how the myth of redemptive violence is perpetuated in adult books and movies. “The plot is depicted graphically in movies like Jaws, Rambo, and Air Force One. Likewise, the classic gunfighters of the “Western” settle old scores and restore order by shootouts, never by due process of law. The law in fact, is suspect, too weak to prevail in the conditions of near-anarchy that fiction has misrepresented as the Wild West. The gunfighter must take matters into his own hands. Similarly in the big city, in movies such as Dirty Harry, a beleaguered citizen finally rises up against the crooks … and creates justice out of the barrel of a gun. This is the environment in which we are catechized – more effectively than in any Sunday school.” (source)

Martin Luther King unmasked the lie behind this myth in December 1964: “Violence as a way of achieving justice is both impractical and immoral. It is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all. The old law of an eye for an eye leaves everybody blind. It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the opponent rather than win his understanding; it seeks to annihilate rather than to convert. Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love. It destroys community and makes brotherhood impossible.”

Our belief in violence can be seen in one more disturbing fact: the vehement hatred of those who refuse to believe in violence. It can’t be a coincidence that arguably the three strongest voices lifted up against violence have all been killed, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, and, worst of all, the One whose life was perfect peace.

The myth of redemptive violence is universal– almost, but not quite. Jesus shows us a different path. He inaugurates a realm of peace by completely contradiciting and confounding human wisdom. Instead, of killing others, he allows himself to be killed in their place. He says in effect. “Can’t you see that the way of violence is not working. It’s been going on incessantly for millenia and nothing has changed. I have a different plan–loving your enemy, turning the other cheek, living in peace with everyone.”

In the next post I will argue, perhaps surprisingly, that the war motif in stories (and in the Bible) still has a place. We are, in fact, very much caught up in a war. It’s just not a physical one.

Jesus Gets Up Close and Personal with a Prostitute

A close reading of the gospels gives one the distinct impression that Jesus enjoyed rattling people’s cages. He had a habit of eating with losers, outcasts, and traitors to the dismay of the religious leaders. He seemed to go out of his way to heal on the Sabbath because he knew they didn’t like it. He brought women into his inner circle as disciples and praised hated foreigners. He broke the law and touched lepers. But of all his radical behaviour, what Jesus did the night a prostitute disrupted a dinner party may be the most disturbing. Indeed, had you or I been there, we would no doubt  be shaking our heads and murmuring that this time, Jesus has just gone too far.

The community was abuzz with the news that the rabbi who’s turning Israel upside down is in town and will be dining at the home of Simon the Pharisee tonight . A Pharisee in first century Judaism is a big deal. He’s a leader of the community. To be a guest at his house would be like being invited to the home of a CEO of a large corporation, an important government official or perhaps the home of a megachurch pastor.

The meal goes along fine. Pleasantries are exchanged. The roasted lamb is succulent; everyone smiles after tasting the wine. Then, all of a sudden she barges in unannounced, a woman well-known all over town as promiscuous, quite possibly a prostitute. She’s entered the room because she knows that when a rabbi like Jesus eats at a leader’s home, other people can watch and listen. But for a woman of her standing to do so is a big risk.

As she approaches the entrance of the room she’s confronted by an onslaught of inner voices. “You’re a shameful slut. What are you doing here? This man is holy. You don’t belong. Don’t go through that door. You’re going to make a fool of yourself. You will be a laughing stock in this town for the rest of your life. You’re a loser. Get out of here.” She doesn’t listen, but rather, tiptoes up behind Jesus as he reclines on a pillow, a mat spread out with the meal in front of him. His body trails away from the feast and she sees his sandals have been removed as is the custom. At the sight of her, Simon’s eyebrows raise and his nostrils flare with indignity. The guests’ faces show undisguised disgust as well. One woman draws back as though from vermin. Jesus’ face, however, radiates a captivating acceptance encouraging her to come forward. She takes no notice of the hostile stares and the sneering lips. Now, more than ever, she just wants to do something extraordinary for Jesus.

As she gets closer to his inviting presence, her heart begins to melt.  Thoughts of her past and all that she has become fill her heart. Even before she kneels down to anoint Jesus’ feet a dam bursts within her. The pain mingles with the warmth of Christ’s love and her past washes away in a flood of tears. But as she looks down she sees her tears splashing on Jesus’ feet. “The Master’s feet are getting soaked by my tears! What do I do now?” She has nothing to dry them with. Jesus’ feet are getting wetter and wetter. The woman is now desperate and comes up with a plan that will only dig her deeper into the hole of public shame. She throws caution to the wind not caring what others think. 

She is only focused on Jesus and so she does something that is totally culturally indecent–she lets her hair down in front of them all, and begins to dry his feet with her hair. Her anxiety now abating, she enacts the next part of her plan. She pours out the  precious anointing oil she’s brought on Jesus’ feet.  As she does so a  torrent of love erupts from somewhere deep inside and  she pours that out too– now  doing  the completely unthinkable! Overwhelmed by  a sense of grace and mercy , she starts kissing Jesus’ feet, not once or twice, but continuously, for a long time. 

Can we grasp the sensuality of what’s happening?  Jesus, fully human, fully male has  a woman let down her hair, rub his feet with it, anoint and possibly massage them with oil and then start kissing them repeatedly. In first century Judaism a woman letting her hair down in public  had sexual overtones and was considered immodest. Furthermore, this particular woman is known by the whole community as promiscuous, quite likely a prostitute. The same lips that had kissed so many other lusting lips go on kissing his feet in full view of all the guests. And Jesus let it all happen! Later, he will even draw Simon’s attention to how long her kissing went on!

“Did Jesus go too far this time?” Simon thinks so.  This is all the evidence he needs. Jesus is  a false prophet. “If he were a real prophet,” Simon says to himself, “he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is.” His thoughts perfectly reflect the Pharisees’ attitude. Their life’s work was to make and enforce rules that excluded others from their “holy” inner circle. How much pain they inflicted by this judgment of others was irrelevant.

Jesus, however, yanks Simon off his judgement seat and puts him in the defendant’s box. Simon had scoffed to himself about Jesus’ lack of discernment concerning the woman. As one scholar notes, the irony is that Jesus not only knows what kind of a woman is touching him, he also knows what kind of a man Simon is. He even knows what he is thinking!

In not recoiling from the woman but instead receiving her washing and anointing of his feet with prolonged kisses, Jesus’ passivity is remarkable.  As we study the life of  Christ in the gospels, it becomes obvious that most of us need to do what Jesus makes explicit in Matthew 11:28-30, learn of his gentleness and meekness. We tend to equate those qualities with weakness  or laziness, but that shows a misunderstanding of Jesus’ nature. Furthermore, gentleness and meekness may mean we are passive at times, but they may mean the  opposite  at other times. Jesus lives in the exhilaration of a Spirit-led life, now passive, now taking action. When he turns to Simon, we see his assertiveness in full display. Although Jesus lets all of the woman’s actions go, he doesn’t even let Simon get away with what he’s thinking. Jesus wants to give him a chance to repent and so is proactive even to the point of apparent rudeness in order to do so.  Simon’s hardening of his heart is serious indeed. Changing it requires strong medicine which Jesus is not afraid to  administer. God’s mercy does not mean he’s a benevolent grandfather “who just wants to see the young people have a good time” as C.S. Lewis characterized  this false view of God.

In allowing this scene to develop, Jesus has  initiated a drama. Now he invites the Pharisee into it with an interactive parable. He says in effect, “Simon, you like judging people. You’ve judged this woman; you’ve judged me. I want you to make one more judgment. One guy owed $50,000 to a rich man and another owed $5,000. When they couldn’t pay, he completely forgave both their debts. Which one of these guys will love the moneylender more?” Simon realizes he’s being sucked into something that may not go well for him and so grudgingly answers, “I suppose the guy who owed the bigger debt.”

Jesus says he has indeed given the right answer. He then turns toward the woman and asks Simon a profound question, “Do you see this woman?” The story makes it clear that he didn’t see her. Trapped in his own mind with his self-righteous fantasies, he only sees the category into which he ’s  put her, sinner. Simon sees only the surface. He lives a shallow, imprisoned life, his religious system a boa constrictor that squeezes all love out of him. Furthermore, Simon can’t see the big heart of the One who is his guest. He only sees the label he ’s put on Jesus, “false prophet.”   His self-confident knowledge blinds him to love incarnate eating dinner with him.

On the other hand, Jesus sees not merely a category, but the woman in her God-created beauty. Even though  he  acknowledges  that, indeed, she had sinned much, he didn’t see a “sinful woman.”   In light of her past, the high view Jesus articulates concerning her is extraordinary. He will commend her as someone with great faith, a faith that “saves” her, he says. Not only that,  he says she’s a person of great love. Jesus saw her true self, a woman who “loved much.”And now we know why Jesus let  this scene  unfold the way it did. The drama  highlighted for all to see the response of lavish love from one who had encountered heaven’s mercy. From a human point of view it was an overly sensual, questionable scene for the Son of God to be involved in . From a divine perspective the fragrance of angels filled the room because one sinner had repented. It was not about romance but forgiveness and redemption of a messed-up sexuality . It was about a woman finally finding the love she’d been looking for in all her illicit relationships with men.

Beauty: a Better Way to Believe

Recently I was speaking with a young man about the Christian faith and he said something like the following, “I’ve tried to believe. I’ve given it everything I’ve got, but it just doesn’t work for me. I can’t make myself believe.” The requirement of “faith alone” is one of the most difficult hurdles concerning the Christian message. How can I “just believe” if I just don’t? As I sensed with this young man, people sometimes experience anguish in their attempts to be a Christian. Surely God does not expect us to close our eyes and leap into the dark? How then can I go from nonbelief to faith without it being merely “blind faith”?

The Catholic theologian, Hans Urs von Balthasar, sheds great light on this question by giving us what we might call  the mechanics of faith. His insight has to do with what theology calls the  transcendentals,  Beauty, Goodness and Truth. The key, says Balthasar, is the logical progression from one to the other and in the above order. 

When zealous Christians tell us, “Just believe,” they are, of course, saying just believe that the gospel is true. But to begin by focusing on Truth is to start at the wrong end of the three-fold progression. While doctrine certainly has its place, propositional truth statements have no spark. Just hearing that “God forgives sins“ or “Jesus saves,” are positive declarations, but by themselves they don’t have the firepower necessary to bring us to faith. Truth is the last step; we begin with the beautiful. We must be internally moved to believe. A fire must be lit in our belly and it’s Beauty that kindles it. 

Anything truly beautiful (as opposed to the merely glamorous) sparks joy and evokes wonder. It ushers us into a realm of grace as when we watch a ballerina or hear the music of Mozart. We’re touched by gentle beauty when we behold a robin feeding her newly hatched chicks  securely snuggled in the nest she’s provided. Even more so, when we gaze at a newborn human baby cooing and smiling at us our thoughts and feelings elevate to a higher plane.  Beauty causes our eyes to lift up and look for something more, something beyond the here and now.

When we resist hardening our hearts, beauty awakens sensitivity and feeling for others. Somehow we become more aware of the good and are more apt to participate in it. Thus we are led on to the second transcendental, Goodness. True beauty in any form tends to make us want to be good. However, we are especially moved toward the Good when we consider the beauty of those who give their lives freely to individuals who can’t pay them back. Hearing about Mother Teresa makes us want to do something for the poor.  

Balthasar reminds us that ultimate beauty resides in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. When we encounter his beauty in action as he heals an outcast leper or forgives the woman caught in adultery our attention is caught. The highest beauty can be seen in the climax of Jesus’ life, that is,  when the Son of God gives his life on the cross for the salvation of all, even those who betrayed him– people like you and me. As we continue to consider this heavenly person, light and heat are generated. We begin to thaw out spiritually, to open up more fully to the Good. We may not necessarily believe at this point, but the stories of Jesus have drawn us in and we want to hear more. 

Having been inspired by the beautiful and now wanting to do good and perhaps beginning to do so, we arrive at the last transcendental, Truth. And Jesus said we will only know the truth as we purpose to put it into practice.(John 7:17) As James says, without an act of faith, there is no faith.”(James 2:17) 

So don’t worry if you believe the gospel’s truth or not. And by all means, don’t try to make  yourself believe. Rather, devote yourself to studying Jesus. Let yourself be immersed in all aspects of his life so that you see the Beauty whether you think it’s true or not. As the title of a well-known book said, the gospel (good news) is “the greatest story ever told.” Jordan Peterson said on his podcast that there could never be a greater story. You can’t get any better than God himself becoming a human being to save us from pain, evil, sin and death. Then to take us ultimately to a literal heaven upon earth! Give yourself time to consider Jesus and see what happens!

Image:Girl with a Pearl Earring, by Johannes Vermeer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons