Even though his decision will affect his parents as well as himself, Andre’s father wants the boy to make up his own mind. So Andre goes out for a walk, and when he returns he tells his parents that he has decided not to throw stones. The father is obviously proud of his son, but lets him know that he and his mother discussed the situation, and they came to the conclusion that if Andre’s decision was not to throw stones, the family would leave Germany right away. And so they do leave the very next day.

The question is why so many others just went along with the persecution.  Fear, of course, is the most obvious reason.  Andre’s parents knew his decision not to participate was dangerous.

But what about situations that carry less risk, in which the danger is not loss of life but perhaps loss of a job or even simply disapproval?  Why do we ourselves so often rationalize injustice or turn a blind eye to conditions that exclude or that do violence to others? It is crucial to put a halt to oppression when it is small — if oppression can ever be called small. How tempting it is to say, “I can’t allow myself to get involved,” or “This one incident isn’t important. It won’t go any farther.”

But oppression tends not to stop on its own. On the contrary, it tends to escalate.

At some point each of us is faced with the decision to say Yes or No to oppression and injustice. How we do it in our own context is a matter for prayer and discernment. But it is important to remember that to refuse the No is to assent.

“With what shall I come before the Lord,
and bow myself before God on high?”
[God] has told you. . . what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

Micah 6:6,8

__________

(*Harvard University Press, 1989)

Photograph: Jewish shop in Berlin, April 1, 1933
Source: Yad Vashem (Item ID 30312; Archival signature 4613/224); Encyclopedia of the Holocaust,  Hebrew Edition 1990
Photographer unknown.

Negative Witness

The results of the survey have been widely disseminated online, and have hardly offered an appealing image of the followers of the Prince of Peace.  Non-believers have highlighted this survey and pointed out the violence in the Old Testament stories as justification for their negative view of religion.

Some Christians, it is true, believe that every word of Scripture is to have equal weight.  They are unaware of the remarkable development in the Bible, as human beings, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, learn more and more about who God truly is.  The primitive stories of tribal violence give way to the prophetic voices of love and justice for all peoples, leading finally to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

“At the resurrection, what the apostolic group began to understand was that there is no violence in God, no wrath, no desire for retribution, no need for vengeance or satisfaction”

James Alison, “Befriending a Vengeful God,”
Encounter, October 24, 2004.

Let us pray

…that each of us as individuals and all of us as the mystical Body of Christ may take on the mind and heart of the merciful and loving God.

‘But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you

‘If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt

‘Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.

‘Do to others as you would have them do to you.’  (Luke 6:27-31)

Dale found a hiding spot under the big old house that was our family home place. My great aunt Missie (who was in charge of pretty much everything, including the nether regions of the house) knew he was there, as presumably did my grandmother and the other adults in the family, but all ignored the fact until the friends had given up looking, and Dale could be transported safely to jail.

In the years following, my grandmother sang a new lullaby as she rocked my little brother. The lyrics were simple and, repeated, had a certain lulling effect:

Dale, Dale,
Get out of jail,
And take me to ride on the tractor.

Violent Acts and Stealing the Liquor

The South has probably had more than its share of violence, some of it racially motivated, much of it not. It has affected people of all social classes. Besides Dale, among my family’s acquaintances were a judge killed by a member of his own family and a university professor who shot his wife. There was also the state senator whose murderer made the mistake of stealing not only his victim’s car, but his whiskey to boot. He was apprehended weaving from side to side down the highway.

Although violent acts are often the stuff of legend, and occasionally of lullabies, it remains true that violence is rarely if ever justified. This is so whether it is a question of individual retribution, the emotional abuse family members can inflict on each other, or the mass destruction of war. Violence begets violence, as it did in days gone by and as it continues to do in our country and the world today.

Direct and Indirect Consequences

Violence begets violence directly, as it did when Dale took revenge for an act of infidelity (itself a violent act), and then when the friends sought to avenge that death.

Violence also begets violence indirectly:
• by teaching children that might makes right and the powerless are fair game;
• by fostering a climate where laboring for justice does not seem worth the effort, because violence is so much easier;
• by nurturing a culture where the extraordinary courage required to be a peacemaker is renamed cowardice.

They will not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain;
for the earth will be full
of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.

(Isaiah 11:9)

At the resurrection, what the apostolic group began to understand was that there is no violence in God, no wrath, no desire for retribution, no need for vengeance or satisfaction” (James Alison, “Befriending a Vengeful God,” Encounter, October 24, 2004).

Violence and vengeance are not to be found in the heart of God. One cannot be a maker of violence and at the same time claim to be following Christ.

Violence, we are told in the letter to the Galatians, is not the fruit of the Holy Spirit, but is rather the work of the “flesh,” that is, belonging to the order contrary to the Spirit of Christ. Included in the list of those contrary works (Galatians 5) are enmity and strife. Those words are sometimes translated hatred and discord, and can also be rendered as hostility and fighting. No matter how they are translated, they stand in sharp contrast to the fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

We also read that “those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God” (Galatians 5:21). There is violence in each of us, of course, because we are all sinners. But we mustn’t let the violence in us become the lens through which we view the world. And when we claim that the violence we do is God’s will, we add to the shame of the action.

What does the fact that there is no violence in God say about a Christian’s stance toward war, or capital punishment, or abortion? What about domestic violence, or coercion, or emotional violence in all of its forms? What about hours spent gazing at violent television programs or playing violent video games, since ancient wisdom tells us we become what we gaze on?

Thanks be to God for the mercy shown us in Jesus Christ, without which we would be lost! Blessed be the Spirit of Christ, who works in us to transform us into peacemakers, whom Jesus calls the children of God.

Our conversation has been lively and, for the most part, respectful. Both of them (like many of the others who participate in the ex-Christian forum) are locked into the idea that God, as presented in the Bible, is not only violent, but has killed “more people than Hitler,” as D put it.

When B offered to send me the “hundreds of articles” he had written against Christianity, I asked if he thought they would make me more a loving and compassionate person.

B responded, in part, “How does the Hebrew god Yahweh, who killed maybe millions of men, women and children … make you a ‘more loving and compassionate person?’”

Both of them reject the notion of a violent and unjust God — and they are right to do so.

What they also do not accept is a God in whom there is no violence at all. Neither can they admit that the Bible, in a beautiful way, shows God leading the Hebrew people — through their history, prophets, and writings — from a primitive view of God to a more profound understanding of who God is, culminating after the resurrection of Jesus with a more intimate knowledge of God’s love and mercy.

In other words, the story of the Bible is not static. The inspired writers and compilers of the Bible were honest enough to give us as much of the whole story as was revealed to them, including updates. That is, when a deeper understanding was given, they included that as well as the more primitive one — sort of like offering Windows XP along with 95, instead of pretending 95 was never part of the story. Sometimes they even presented more than one version of the same event, perhaps to increase the depth of our vision of that event.

We remember that Jesus would sometimes say, “You have heard it said,” after which he would add, “but I say to you…,” followed by a new understanding. For example:

You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” [This is found in both Exodus and Leviticus.] But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; …

You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. (Matthew 5:38-39; 43-45)

Sometimes Jesus made the same point less directly. To take an extreme example, the book of Leviticus instructs, “If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death” (20:10 ). Jesus, however, when questioned about a woman caught in adultery, stooped down and wrote quietly in the sand. Finally he said, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:7).

Unfortunately, many people who call themselves Christian still hold the primitive view of a violent God.

The word of God is found in the Bible as a whole. That is, it must be taken as a whole, not just as isolated parts. And the touchstone is always God as revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

Both D and B are in God’s grasp. They are in God’s grasp, first, because everyone is held in being by the love of God; but second, in the sense that they have not been able to let go of God. We are most distant from those toward whom we are indifferent, not from those whom we despise.

I am reminded of the words to the church in Laodicea, found in the book of Revelation:

I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth. (3:15-16).

Neither B nor D could be called lukewarm. They are constantly wrestling with God, battling with those who believe in God. They are not indifferent toward God, and this, I believe indicates that in some mysterious way, which they would not themselves admit, they are close to the God who loves them.

What is history? Wars, victories, and wars. . . So many fears . . . The world is drenched in blood, and the guilt is endless. . . This is what the prophets discovered. History is a nightmare. There are more scandals, more acts of corruption, than are dreamed of in philosophy.

But this nightmare is not the final word. Heschel goes on to say:

It would be blasphemous to believe that what we witness is the end of God’s creation. It is an act of evil to accept the state of evil as either inevitable or final. Others may be satisfied with improvement, the prophets insist upon redemption. The way [humanity] acts is a disgrace, and it must not go on forever.

Evil and violence are not God’s purpose for creation. Not only does God want something better for us, but something better is on the way. Listen to the prophet Isaiah:

They shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks;
One nation shall not raise the sword against another,
nor shall they train for war again. (Isaiah 2:4)

And this:

The wolf shall live with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.
. . . . . . . . . .
They will not hurt or destroy
on all my holy mountain;
for the earth will be full
of the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.
(Isaiah 11:6,9)

Is this just a fairy tale? A daydream? No, we are reminded during the first weeks of Advent that the old order will come to an end — indeed is already on its way out. But we are not to wait passively for peace to reign. We are called to live in justice and mercy, and to wait with hope for the fulfillment of all things in Christ. In fact, by living in peace, justice, hope, and love, we are anticipating even now the age to come — and with Christ we bring comfort to a fearful world.

“It’s something you’d have to live with the rest of your life,” he said.

At the time, I was annoyed with him for casting doubt on my maturity and good sense, but today as I reflect on the war, this conversation comes back to me.

So I ask: Does the same hold true in a communal sense? Are the deaths that happen in war a burden which all of us and each of us will have to live with the rest of our lives?

A mass killer, a serial killer — and the terrorists are both of these — must be stopped. But no matter how just the cause, any violent act tends to defile the person who performs it. This is one reason among many why violence must be the last resort in any situation. Not only does it hurt the one on the receiving end, but it is almost inevitable that when we strike out with violence, we are ourselves diminished.

The U.S. bishops have said, “For resort to war to be justified, all peaceful alternatives must have been exhausted” (The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and Our Response, 1983). I don’t know for sure whether or not the bombing and ground invasion of Afghanistan are indeed the only viable alternatives, whether there is no other way to stop the murderers (though few others seem to have been tried). However, I do know that my heart is not at ease. When I ponder the probability of starvation and disease among the Afghan population this winter, I feel myself and our nation diminished. I believe it is true that we and the world will have to live with the consequences of this war for the rest of our lives, and I want our leaders to be very certain that it is the only means to peace with justice.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.” (Matthew 5:9)

“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. . . . If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them.” (Luke 6:27-28, 32)