“He who says he abides in Him ought to walk in the same way in which he
walked.”
Most of us simply dismiss Jesus’ politic of nonviolent resistance
as either impractical idealism or an outdated, extinct appendage to the Gospel. Pacifism just doesn’t work in our world of
chemical weapons, Delhi bus rapes, Boston bombs and Newtown shootings. To even discuss it
draws the angst and ire of the most devout evangelical. Sooner rather than
later, in every conversation about peace and nonviolence, someone will most
assuredly ask the question, ‘What would
you do if a criminal or insane person threatened to hurt or kill your mom,
sister or daughter?’ As if the question alone provides the coup de grace
for anyone naïve enough to believe Jesus really meant what he said. Or, more timely, what should we do when a regime uses chemical weapons to kill innocent men, women and children? While serious doubt can be raised about the
validity of the first question, the second is a shameful reality right here and right now. Thankfully we who inhabit this fallen
world do not have to rely on hypothetical answers to guide us. We have as answer
witness to the life, ministry and death of Jesus, the par excellence of nonviolent resistance who as God made flesh
confronted injustice, violence and evil by dismissing the underlying assumption
that the only two options are to ‘kill or be killed’. This limited reserve of reaction reveals our
own physical and spiritual poverty. Mahatma Gandhi even said that if the only
two choices are to kill or stand idly by while the weak are exterminated by the
strong, then of course, we must kill.
And to that end I acquiesce.
But thankfully, Jesus gives us a third way; a different path beyond quietism or redemptive violence. It is the radical way of the omnipotent, which,
when the hypothetical became a reality, practiced nonviolent resistance as a
just means of opposing the enemy in a way that opened up the possibility of the
enemy, even an enemy brandishing chemical weapons, to become just himself. Do you remember
the scene in John’s gospel when the life of a defenseless woman was about to be
taken? With stones in hand and a
terrified woman at their feet, Jesus interrupts the plans of the self-righteous
by interceding on her behalf. He didn’t sit idly by or meet the Pharisees viciousness
with force. Rather, he placed himself between the woman and her attackers and
bore the brunt of their accusations on her behalf.He met the Pharisees lethal force with an
altogether different form of power, a power manifested in suffering love on
behalf of the oppressed which when practiced, elevates the dignity of the
downtrodden. Christ’s third way of
dealing with evil is therefore not some form of negative pacifism that we in
the policing West can dismiss as superfluous in our attempts to meet evil with evil, it is active love and truth in the
face of evil on behalf of the subjugated.
Consider Jesus’ most famous polemic on nonviolence in his
political manifesto, the Sermon on the Mount.
Written as the platform for Jesus’ call to radical discipleship, the
sermon commands his would be followers to confront evil in a third,
revolutionary way.
“Do not resist the one who is
evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.
And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as
well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, walk with him two miles…Love
your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of
your Father who is in heaven.”
What is
Jesus up to when he asks us to ‘turn the other cheek’, ‘go the second mile’ and
‘give up your cloak as well’? In the first instance, Jesus speaks of
being struck on the right cheek and turning again the other. In the Jewish world where the left hand was
only used for unclean tasks, to hit the right cheek with the right hand
required a backhanded blow, meant not to harm but to humiliate. Masters
backhanded slaves; husbands, wives; parents their children; Romans, Jews.A backhanded blow brandished contemptuous
superiority over the weaker party, akin to kicking a stray dog. Jesus refuses to allow both himself and his
followers to accept such treatment. Instead,
he offers a creative way of resisting unchecked power. As Walter Wink explains, “by turning the left
cheek, the servant makes it impossible for the master to use the backhand
again. The left cheek offers a perfect target for a blow with the right fist;
but only equals fought with fists, and the last thing the master wishes to do
is to establish through his brutality the equality of his underling.”For Jesus and for us, turning the other cheek
establishes equality; it is nonviolent resistance resulting in status
equalization. In the first century world
of honor and shame, this brutal superior who relies on violence to maintain his
status, is now the one publicly humiliated.
Jesus'
second scene of assertive nonviolence is staged in a court of law. A creditor
has taken a poor man to court for an unpaid debt. Only the lowest of the low were subject to
this form of duress. The Mosaic Law stipulates that a creditor could take as
collateral for a loan a poor person's outer robe, but it must be returned each
evening so the man can have something in which to sleep. Instead of accepting this form of economic inequality,
Jesus commands his followers to oppose the entire system of prejudice by
counseling the poor to give to their wealthy creditor all their clothing, willfully
standing before the law and the community completely naked! Can you picture the scene, a poor man, forced
to give up his coat, removes all his tattered clothes standing completely naked as public witness to an unjust system. And,
since nakedness was strictly taboo in Judaism, the shame of such a public
display fell not on the naked party, but on those viewing or causing the
nakedness.This very public, shocking display by the
beleaguered debtor ironically restores his dignity while simultaneously rebuking
the greed and power of the creditor. Again, Jesus’ third way of confronting
oppression turns the tables on those in power, which should cause us who live
in the first world to seriously ponder the weight of our economic, social and
political decisions toward the vast majority of the underprivileged world.
Finally, Jesus’
third example of ‘Going the second mile’ is drawn from the common practice of
impressment levied by Roman soldiers on subjected colonial populations who were
forced by law to carry a soldiers pack one mile upon request. Jesus offers
yet again a third way of confronting power and injustice. Instead of dropping the bundle the moment one
reaches the mile marker, Jesus slyly urges the Jewish peasant to continue
hauling the pack a second mile. In this way, the subjugated colonial assumes power
over his imperial overlord since requiring an individual to carry one’s pack a
second mile was a severe infraction of military code, met with strict
punishment. Our peasant takes back the
power of choice. As Walter Wink so poignantly illustrates, “Imagine a Roman
infantryman pleading with a Jew to give back his pack! The humor of this scene
may have escaped us, but it could scarcely have been lost on Jesus' hearers,
who must have been delighted at the prospect of thus discomfiting their
oppressors.”
It’s no wonder Jesus is so loved by the marginalized. It’s no wonder the powerful killed him.
In a world where smart bombs are smarter than our politicians and diplomats, it is altogether fitting to rediscover Jesus' polemic on disarmament. Our world is replete with evil, the powerful consistently
abuse the weak. The hypothetical is reality. Nonviolent
resistance is not a platitude discussed from the safety of ivory towers;
it is the foundational ethic of Christ, who in disarming Peter disarmed us all. As our nation ponders military action against injustice, we Christians must remember the posture God took when dealing with His enemies. We must look again upon the crucified God and ask ourselves anew: What kind of God does the crucifixion reveal? "Can this God who is most frequently represented as a defenseless baby in a manger and as a defenseless man on a cross by a tyrant" who meets evil with evil? Are we called to follow this God, or the God of our civil religion? Jesus gives us real, tangible ways of dealing
with evil, injustice and violence without resorting to evil, injustice and
violence. But there are times when even this posture will not safeguard our lives, and so we look again to the one who was raised up on our behalf, who once again did not sit idly by, but stepped between us and a righteous God whose hands were raised against our evil, and, in Christ's greatest act of nonviolent resistance, took upon himself the sin and shame of mankind by suffering on behalf of his enemies. If we who claim to be his disciples believe that the life, ministry, words
and death of Jesus are more than mere pithy clichés for an ancient world, we must have the
courage and creativity to go and be like Him. After all, an eye for an eye makes the whole
world blind.
