Some of you may have noticed that I have a tendency to preach quite often about following the way of Jesus, living the life that Jesus calls us to live, embracing the new world that Jesus declared is “at hand.” The Biblical word for this new world is the kingdom—the kingdom of God. And the kingdom of God exists wherever there are those who are willing to follow the way of Jesus.
It is a whole new way of living. So new, in fact, that it is sometimes hard to imagine. At one point, Jesus even said that, in order to follow the way, one must be born anew.
I’ve been preaching about this a lot lately because it’s been on my mind a lot. A lot of people want, in their heart, to follow the way of Jesus, but most of them, it seems, have lost their way. They go to church on Sunday morning, but their experience of the Spirit seems shallow. Worship ends, and they go back to the “real world,” and there doesn’t seem to be any difference. Nothing seems to have changed. And life just keeps plodding along.
I’ve been pondering these thoughts for some time now. My thinking has been encouraged by some of the writings of Brian McLaren, who I’ve been reading. It just so happens that his most recent book, the one I’m reading now, is called Finding Our Way Again.
The problem, he says, is that Christianity has not been viewed as a “way of life” for most Christians. It’s been viewed as something you do on Sunday mornings. It’s been viewed as a set of rules one must follow. It’s been viewed as a “religion,” and while it is indeed that, it hasn’t become a way of life for many followers.
For me, one aspect of the Christian way of life is nonviolence—nonviolence, rooted in the Christian concept of agape love. To incorporate this into one’s way of living is to incorporate something that is radically different than the way this world usually operates. It’s just not how things work in our world. If you hit me, I hit you back. If you drop bombs on me, I’ll drop some on you. That’s the way it is.
And yet, the invitation to follow Jesus, to live the way of Jesus, is an invitation to embrace the concept of agape love, a love that extends even to one’s enemies. “Blessed are the peacemakers,” Jesus said. “Turn the other cheek.” Likewise, the apostle Paul, who instructed followers of the way to repay evil with kindness, to overcome evil with good. One cannot get rid of the darkness with more darkness; only light can erase the darkness.
Jesus invited the disciples to follow him. He invited them to embrace his philosophy of nonviolence, of agape love. And he invites us as well.
Many were—and are—skeptical. Many followed Jesus because—despite what he said—they believed he was the one to lead an overthrow of the Roman Empire. Others had doubts about Jesus himself. His own family members, at one point, accused him of being crazy. Some people even scoffed at him, and, like Nathanael, wondered: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
Nonviolence. Agape love. Many will say that this sounds like a great philosophy—in dreamland. But this is the real world. Such things don’t work in reality. Like Nathanael, they are skeptical. Like Nathanael, they have doubts.
This weekend, our nation pauses to honor the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Certainly, when we think of nonviolence and agape love, Martin Luther King, Jr. comes to mind. More importantly, when I think of those who have followed the way of Jesus exceptionally well, I think of Martin Luther King, Jr. I look at the teachings of Jesus, and I see them lived out in King’s life. I read his writings, and I think, “this man got it. This man understood what it means to live the way of Jesus. And he did it.”
He embraced nonviolence, even while demanding justice. He boldly confronted those who he believed were preventing justice, and yet at the same time he honored their dignity and value as children of God. He understood that his choices were not limited to either fighting back or giving in; he understood that there was a third way: the way of Jesus.
It worked for the Civil Rights movement, but does it work elsewhere? Would it have worked, for example, against the Nazis?
At Auschwitz, one day during the summer of 1941, a prisoner escaped. The commander ordered the remaining prisoners to stand at attention in the hot sun while guards searched for the runaway prisoner. When he could not be found, the commander declared that, as punishment, ten of the prisoners would be taken to the starvation bunker to die.
One by one, ten prisoners were called out. One of them wept bitterly, crying out, “my poor wife! My poor children!”
There was a commotion among the prisoners who had not been called out. Prisoner number 16670, Father Maximilian Kolbe, had stepped out of line.
It’s amazing that he wasn’t immediately shot. The commander had his hand on the pistol, but instead of shooting, he shouted, “What do you want?”
Father Kolbe said, “I would like permission to die in place of one of these men.” Quickly, the commander ordered Father Kolbe to take the place of the man who had wept for his family.
What good did that do? Well, according to an eyewitness, “It was an enormous shock to the whole camp. We became aware [that] someone unknown among us… was raising the standard of love on high. Someone unknown, like everyone else, went to a horrible death for the sake of someone not even related to him. Therefore it is not true, we cried, that humanity is cast down and trampled in the mud. Thousands of prisoners were convinced the true world continued to exist and that our torturers would not be able to destroy it… To say that Father Kolbe died for one of us or that person’s family is too great a simplification. His death was the salvation of thousands.” [Michael N. Nagler, Is There No Other Way?, p. 120]
How did his death save thousands? By providing hope, a hope that kept many from giving up. Doctors will tell you that if someone gives up, there’s not much they can do. But if they still have hope, then they likely will survive. The hope that those prisoners received that day proved to be more powerful than the Nazis’ desire to have them exterminated, despite all the guns and weapons the Nazis had.
Of course, Father Kolbe himself was killed. So was Martin Luther King, Jr. – and Jesus, too. The way of Jesus isn’t always easy. But these are, perhaps, exceptional cases. What about in everyday life?
When we lived in northern California, it was common to have groups of teenagers stop by the house. Two brothers who lived up the street were at our house so often, that on Christmas morning, Santa left them stockings filled with goodies at our house.
Unfortunately, these two brothers didn’t always get along. They fought. Sometimes their fights were so intense, it scared those around them. One day, they happened to be at our house, along with a friend of the older brother. Needless to say, when the two brothers started fighting, the friend of the older brother always sided with the older brother against his younger sibling.
Except once. One time, the older brother was picking on his young brother, yelling at him, telling him how stupid he was—and, for some unexplained reason, the younger brother wasn’t fighting back. He wasn’t fighting back, but neither was he running away. He just sat there, in silence, looking intently at his older brother as the verbal assault continued.
Finally, the friend of the older brother gave the older brother a push and said, “Will you stop it? He’s not even doing anything. Leave him alone.” I was blown away. He had never sided with the younger brother before. Always, he had sided with his friend, the older brother.
In this argument, in this fight, the younger brother won without ever saying a word, and without ever raising a fist. And if the older brother was paying attention, he would have learned that his aggressiveness wouldn’t always succeed, that there’s a force in this universe that’s even more powerful.
Another example: during the recent Christmas season, we were at Disneyland one crowded evening when, on Main Street, a woman with a stroller started yelling. I didn’t see everything that happened, but later, Ginger told me that this woman was trying to get through the crowd, and an elderly man with a child that we would guess was his grandson was in her way. She started yelling at him and verbally abusing him to the point that this man actually started to cry. He had been experiencing a very special time with his grandson, and now, it had been ruined.
After hearing Ginger describe everything that had happened, a part of me wished I had seen the entire confrontation, because I wished I could have spoken a word of encouragement to the man, and also because I wished I could have given that woman a piece of my mind. I wanted to let her know how rude she was, how she had ruined this man’s evening, and how could she be such a horrible person!
But as I continued thinking about it, I realized two things: one, I realized that if I had reacted that way, I wouldn’t have been following the way of Jesus. My words would have been words of violence, just like the words spoken by that woman.
And, two, I realized that while the man may have received some comfort had I acted that way, that woman would be just as miserable and cranky and mean as always.
What would have been the better solution? Well, because I was disturbed by that woman’s actions, I kept pondering what had happened; and after pondering for awhile, I came up with something better: walk up to the woman, and calmly say: “It looks to me like you’re having a bad day. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Or something like that. I don’t know what the result would have been, but it seems to me that such a reaction on my part would have had a better chance of helping her to calm down, admit her poor choice of behavior, and make for a more peaceful day for everyone. It would have honored her dignity as a human being, and at the same time, help her to realize how she had wronged that man by not honoring his dignity.
I have one more story to share with you, one that I read in last Sunday’s [1/9/09] L.A. Times, in an article written by Chris Kraul, reporting from Colombia.
“After word spread across the Jambalo Indian reservation that seven people had been kidnapped by leftist rebels, the community’s unarmed ‘indigenous guard’ sprang into action.
“Within minutes, hundreds of men, women and children were out on roads and pathways searching for the hostages, communicating by radio, cellphone and shouts. Many held lanterns that, as the search continued after nightfall, made the rescue party seem an eerily glowing centipede snaking up and down hillsides.
“Soon, the guards had found the hostages. The rebels were holding them in a school, which was quickly surrounded by hundreds of Indians who, lanterns held high, kept a silent vigil. A guerrilla leader threatened violence and fired his weapon into the air, but no one budged.
“After a brief standoff, the unarmed Indians secured the hostages’ release.”
Later in the article, the leader of the tribe is quoted as saying: “We forbid violence. All we have is the power to convene. It’s what keeps us alive. The army offers to come and deal with the kidnappers and the traffickers, but we don’t want them involved. That would only ignite a cycle of violence.”
Does nonviolence always work? No. But neither does violence. And there is a strange power to nonviolence: a power that enables a group like the Jambalo Indians to prevail against a larger group armed with weapons. A power that enables oppressed minorities to achieve dignity and equality. A power that saved thousands of lives at Auschwitz. A power that one man—Jesus—demonstrated on the cross and at the empty tomb, a power that not even the Roman Empire could defeat, even though Jesus never so much as raised a fist at his enemies.
Do you still wonder about the power of nonviolence? Are you still skeptical? I can only extend to you the invitation to try it, to follow the way of Jesus. Can it possibly work? As Andrew said to Nathanael, “come and see.” Give it a try. You won’t know until you do.
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