I found this interesting:

“After Job is hit by calamities, his theological friends come, offering interpretations which render these calamities meaningful. The greatness of Job is not so much to protest his innocence as to insist on the meaninglessness of his calamities. When God finally appears, he affirms Job’s position against the theological defenders of the faith.”

Is this not the role that Christians like to slide into, as the “theological friends” offering meaning to those struck by tragedy. God is testing you, this is the unfolding of God’s plan, you’ll see this will make sense; or more darkly: maybe you do not pray so well, maybe you have some sin for which you have not adequately confessed.

What if Job is a sort of mirror for the wealthy dilletante who wrote Ecclesiastes. One finds no meaning in his wealth and leisure, the other finds no meaning in his suffering and privation. How much is this an unnoticed undercurrent in the Bible? Why must we seek meaning in our misery? Is it not another “chasing after the wind” to do so?

• That Paul could say in 1 Cor. 6 that ecclesial judgments are morally permissible but “worse” than forgiveness implies that just war could be permissible but not the best thing it could do; this leaves room for a church that could accept violence morally but also be the institution that teaches the state to “beat its swords into plowshares”, and ultimately bring an end to violence.

• Visible unity in the church is a sign to the powers that they are, at best, unnecessary to reach the end of human and social flourishing (cf. the biblical teaching about the angels/law ruling while humanity was in its childhood, and being replaced by human beings at their time of maturity), and at worst openly opposed to that goal and to the God who gives it. Because the church can produce those things submitting only to its king, Jesus, it makes other powers and their violently-organizing activities unnecessary.

• Visible disunity in the church is not a disproof of Christ and his claims, since fundamentally he claimed: a) he was going to give the church the power to be visibly unified, though not the necessity of being so, and b) he would be in control of history to make sure that the church activates its possible visible unity at the times he sees most fit. This means that the church should not normalize visible disunity, since it is both necessary as part of its full witness and because it is good and possible, and yet should not take visible disunity as a disproof of the gospel it trusts in.

• Visible unity will prompt either conversion (via the power of the Holy Spirit) or open hostility, because visible unity shows that full human flourishing is possible when one worships God, and humanity rejects God partly because it has irrationally convinced itself one cannot trust God to bring it happiness.

• The most fundamental difference between the Old and New Covenant is the New Covenant gives increased access to God: the church has more access to God to fulfill its calling than Israel, or fallen humanity before Israel, had.

What does this mean for us?:

Luke22:24 A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. 25 And he said to them, “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. 26 But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. 27For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.

28“You are those who have stayed with me in my trials, 29and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, 30 that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Some relevant factors to consider:

1. The New Testament affirms there are authorities in the church; even if one does not grant the New Testament authority in itself, it seems unlikely that the apostles would go so far off-base in such a short time as to completely oppose Jesus’ message about authority if he intended to create a completely egalitarian direct-democratic community.
2. The text (including in its parallels) specifically focuses on “the kings of the Gentiles“.
3. The text in Luke affirms that the 12 will sit on thrones judging others in the kingdom, which implies they have authority.
4. Most everything in the gospels has a political subtext, especially things around authority; consider, as one example, that right after this passage Luke has Jesus informing Peter that Satan has asked to sift him, and that he will deny him three times. In the Gospels Satan is presented as tempting Jesus with power (think: all the kingdoms of the world for bowing to Satan, temptation in Gethsemane followed by Peter’s revolutionary activities, and Jesus’ response about living by the sword).
5. Paul’s first epistle to Timothy seems to say that seeking to hold a position of authority is not a bad thing, but rather: “If anyone aspires to the office of overseer, he desires a noble task.”
6. Peter has a similar theme in his first epistle: “So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: shepherd the flock of God that his among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will likewise receive the unfading crown of glory. Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another.” Here it seems one can exercise authority (“oversight”) and be domineering or not.

Right now it seems to me that one could take this (extremely central) declaration of Jesus in two ways: either what Jesus is prohibiting is the use of violent power (which this reading would obviously link with a domineering attitude, thinking that violence inherently expresses such a thing), which would be consistent with the general political subtext and would require pacifism, or it is the power-seeking-and-flaunting, domineering attitude that is expressed in revolutionary thought and in the “kings of the Gentiles”. And further, if we take Paul’s comment in 1 Timothy seriously, it seems that the problem can’t be, on either reading, a simple “desire to hold authority” in itself. There must be something deeper at work in addition to but in co-operation with that desire which makes it problematic. My guess is that it would be something like, on the first reading, a desire to restrict the freedom of action of others (through violence) against their will, or on the second reading, a desire to control others for one’s own aggrandizement in contradiction to the good of others. Or to put it another way: it’s either the desire to limit their freedom for one’s own good, or the desire to limit their good for one’s own good. These are roughly the pacifist and Augustinian answers, I suppose, so I’m not saying anything new.

Still meditating on Jesus’ politics and pacifism, here are some random thoughts:

• Something I’ve learned from the Biblical Horizons guys (Jordan, Leithart, Wilson, Jones, Meyers etc.) is that according to Scripture, the most effective tool for change (in any context) is worship. If someone finds this controversial I’ll try to find some proof-texts, but for now I’ll just leave it as taken for granted. (more…)

Greg is a friend of a few people on this blog, and he contacted me the other day asking me if I would post his reply to the discussion we have been having on the Sermon on the Mount. It’s reproduced in full below. I will leave a few comments in the comment box after posting this.

In read through all the discussions on Pacifism (at least all that I could find on the blog) I felt obliged to comment on some of the interpretive issues that arose, particularly ones relative to the Sermon on the Mount. I can’t really address all the things that have been said about it from all the discussions, so forgive me if I’ve missed important details. I also found some of the distinctions that were made somewhat obscure and so if I’ve misunderstood anyone’s position it may be because I didn’t fully understand some of the points that were made. Nevertheless, I thought I would try to contribute to the discussion, especially because the Sermon on the Mount has been a fascination of mine for some time.

(more…)

Following up on my previous post, I think I might have a glimpse into the consistency between the anti-state trends in Scripture and the fact that, probably (I concede now), Jesus was not prohibiting all use of violence whatsoever.

Firstly, that the Scriptures tend to be anti-state. There’s the OT anti-monarchial theme. That this exists is beyond dispute, and the most reasonable explanation is that God is telling us that states as permanent entities of coercion tend to always go wrong and end up opposing his kingdom.

Then we have verses in Ecclesiastes, about how life goes under the sun (i.e., all the time), that say: “Furthermore, I have seen under the sun that in the place of judgment there is wickedness and in the place of righteousness there is wickedness,” and “If you see oppression of the poor and denial of justice and righteousness in the province, do not be shocked at the sight; for one official watches over another official, and there are higher officials over them.”

Thirdly, there’s the attitude that Jesus shows towards the powers/authorities. Jacques Ellul’s provocative work Anarchy and Christianity, signaled me to this (as well as all the passages I pointed out above, though he gives more). Jesus first of all apparently believes that all the kingdoms of the world are under the authority of Satan himself (compare the temptations of Christ with Christ’s response to Pilate in the Gospel of John, about who “has the greater sin”, as well as NT statements about “the god of this world” blinding the minds of unbelievers and about the Dragon having the power to give all the kingdoms of the world to the beast in Revelation). As well, he seems to generally treat the authorities of his day as a joke. Consider: his ridiculous miracle of paying a tax by having Peter catch a fish with the exact amount in it (he did a ridiculous miracle to ridicule the authorities and their tax). Or consider his treatment of the authorities during his trial: he only opens his mouth to subtly accuse them of being without justice whatsoever, or to be a smart-alec (“You have said so!”). Otherwise he doesn’t even dignify their “courts of justice” with a response.

Fourthly, there’s the anti-imperial Revelation as a whole (regardless of which “empire” it is referring to).

Finally there are the statements which describe the church as being at war with the “authorities”, though not with carnal weapons (fitting with Jesus’ anti-zealot political agenda). Often, it is true, it is said these authorities are in the heavenlies, but this is not always the case (1 Cor. 2:6-8), and this is actually consistent with a suspicion of and opposition to the state: the state is presented as being in league with these powers we are opposing, so really both are probably in view in most of these cases.

It seems that the Scriptures emphatically support Lord Acton’s famous dictum: power corrupts. Or at least, violent power as an abiding possession of an institution (as opposed to as given directly by special revelation from God, what the Israelites rejected when they demanded a king like all the other nations) corrupts. Perhaps this is the consistent attitude Scripture enjoins upon us: true, violence itself is not always wrong, but the state always inevitably ends up opposing God and his church because violence inherently leads people towards being unjust if it is not directly commanded by God. The church is to oppose the state not because it uses violence per se, but because its use of violence leads to it becoming what Jesus says all rulers are like: “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them: and those who have authority over them have themselves called ‘Benefactors’.”

But it shall not be so with you. The church opposes the state not because it is violent per se, but because its violence inevitably leads to its dominating its subjects, and this domination opposes the very character of God Himself.

***

As a post-script: after writing this I had another “epiphany”. If James Jordan’s understanding of the Tree of Knowledge is correct, that “the knowledge of good and evil” is judicial (i.e., violent) authority, then there is perhaps another way to read the history of salvation that confirms my above view. That is, while on earth, Jesus seemed to eschew all violence for our sake (as an example for us), but once he died and was raised by the Father to his right hand, he executes vengeance from God’s throne (seen in, firstly, Jerusalem at AD 70, but presumably continually through history). Further, the problem with Adam and Eve taking the fruit was not that they were never supposed to have it, but that they weren’t ready for it. Then we have Paul in 1 Cor. 6 saying that believers will be judging angels in the world to come, considered alongside Jesus’ general commandment to his followers to not judge. Finally we have the directive to believers to entrust judgment to God (in this age), but apparently being raised to judge with him in the age to come.

I think this all fits: the states will inevitably become oppressive and opposed to God because they essentially are repeating Adam’s problem; they have judicial authority but are also part of the Old Age, an immature age which is not ready for the judicial authority that it has taken for itself. But in the age to come, after the resurrection, which Jesus is already in, we will be ready to execute vengeance rightly; we will have the knowlege of good and evil and be mature enough to use it rightly. (This also fits with the fact that complete salvation, complete entry into the Age to Come, only happens after our physical resurrection; until then we are still partly in the Old Age, and thus continue to struggle with it even in ourselves.)

The one monkey-wrench in this view would be the “realized eschatology” themes of the NT, which seem to say we are already reigning/judging with Christ. But I think these, when they are understood correctly, only serve to confirm this reading: we judge now by praying in the name of Christ; we judge by asking God to judge. In the age to come, after we have gone through death and resurrection, we will judge directly (as seen in the fact that we will judge the angels, or that cities will rise up to judge other cities on the last day). Regardless, any statements about being co-regents with Christ now have to be consistent with all the things I pointed out in the main body of this post, so I still think my view here is best.

Relevant to Dan’s point here, Peter Leithart, my favourite supporter of Christendom, had these interesting observations about what the Law cannot do…

In addition to my argument about the change in relation to the powers, perhaps this is another reason for the shift in ethics between OT and NT: truly, “if a law had been given which was able to give life, then justice would indeed have been based on the law…” (Gal 3:21)

There’s been a quite discussion going on elsewhere on this blog about pacifism and the question of whether there is a public/private distinction in how we should behave. Does the magistrate get a free pass where the individual would not? The problem though is that the agents of the state are always individuals too. You look at the toll in terms of psychological damage inflicted on soldiers and the like in executing the actions of the state. I cannot imagine that a few nasty fire-fights don’t entirely cleanse most soldiers of whatever ideals they might have (those that retain them are exemplary individuals to be sure) and replace them with enmity toward the Other. The state’s use of violence inflicts a toll on those who are agents of the state they are inevitably fractured by their duties and it is done in our names. Maybe this does not wound the magistrate, but it wounds his agents to be sure.

Well, what about the first alternative? Is there a canonical reason to assume Jesus’ command to love our enemies would have the implicit qualification that magistrates didn’t always have to obey this command?

I think there are several considerations which give the answer in the negative.

Firstly, in the OT, the Law was considered an entire system, and organizing principle, a unified whole. The later divisions of moral, civil and ceremonial laws were just that, medieval Christian divisions. They might have some use, but we certainly can’t assume OT Jews (or Second Temple Jews) would have read the law in that way. They wouldn’t.

Secondly, Jesus undeniably alters the significance of the law for those in the age of the church. For example: he (arguably) makes the Sabbath law different than it was in the OT, makes festivals no longer obligatory, changes the relations of Jews and Gentiles, makes circumcision no longer obligatory, makes the temple obsolete, makes the Levitical priesthood obsolete, and reshapes our image of God (the only one we are allowed to give glory to) into the Trinity. There are probably more examples, but those are off the top of my head. In addition, we have strong Pauline language to the effect that we are no longer under the law, and that we are part of a new covenant. On the other hand, Jesus reasserts the authority of the creation order, though also not without modification (marriage is no longer an obligation). Together, I think these things make clear that that the specific significance of the laws of the Torah may not be same in NT era as they were in the OT era. We ultimately need to see what the NT teaches us about the OT before we can know for certain how it applies in the NT era.

This means there is no prima facie reason to assume that God’s support of violence in the OT carries over into the NT, and thus there is no prima facie reason to read that into the context of Jesus’ words.

Another way that the pacifist reading of the Sermon on the Mount has been countered is to say that Christ was not referring to enemies of the public, but rather private enemies.

But: just because you become the enemy of a criminal because you are a magistrate, does not make them any less your enemy. That is, the private/public distinction does not really work in this case, as magistrates are doing harm to people (by the nature of the case, or at least by convention), and that makes those people de facto their enemies. The reason they are their enemies, that they are representatives of the public and thus take upon themselves the behaviour of avenging the public (as opposed to, say, being enemies because someone directly attacked the individual who is the magistrate), does not change the fact that they are their enemies.

Thus, one can’t say that magistrates avoid breaking Christ commands because they are not doing harm to their enemies, but someone else’s, because they have made someone else’s enemy their enemy.

This means that, basically, one can only avoid the pacifist reading by saying that Christ implicitly meant that magistrates were allowed to hate some of their enemies, while everyone else could not hate any of their enemies. As this significant qualification is not on the face of the text of Matthew, it must come from the context, i.e., in necessary truths, in the canon (for those for whom the Canon is authoritative), or in the historical context of Christ’s words. I doubt that the first context can provide that qualification, so that leaves the latter two: either this qualification must be justified on the basis of the canon, or because of the historical context of Christ’s words.

So here’s the challenge for non-pacifists: either show that the canon says that magistrates will, for all time (prior to the parousia, presumably), have to hate some of their enemies (so that Christ’s command could not possibly rule that out without contradicting this), or else show that some part of Jesus’ historical-linguistic context would have implied that when Jesus said “love your enemies”, he meant “love your enemies, unless you are a magistrate, then love your enemies in some situations and hate them in others.”