Can We Live By Jesus’ Ethic Today?
Yes and no.
The last two weeks we’ve been pondering the omnipotence of God. First, we looked at what some call God’s right hand of power, overt and spectacular displays of might, from the creation of the world to the rescue from Egypt to the exile and return of Jewish people to their homeland. We also noted how Jesus displays right-hand power now and then, like the moment when “the sea and the wind obey him.”
We then turned to examine God’s left hand, the quiet, subtle, almost invisible power that, in fact, overcomes our most dangerous enemies, sin and death—not by pyrotechnic flashes of omnipotence but by Jesus’ submitting to injustice and dying a cruel death on the Cross. We noted that even the resurrection, which completed this triumph, was so quiet and unassuming that the disciples had a hard time recognizing their resurrected Lord, even after spending 40 days with him (see especially Mt. 28:17).
I didn’t add that the nefarious lesser companions of sin and death--greed, lust, gluttony, sloth, and other vices—are also defeated not by feats of strength but by humble, quiet submission to God that his grace might fill us anew. Such moments are so quiet and unassuming, you often don’t even notice them.
I also speculated—not without some evidence—that since Holy Week, God has put his right hand behind his back; he no longer uses flashy power to display his glory. Instead, we live in an era in which God’s silent left hand is doing the brunt of his work. There are exceptions, of course, but I think this is generally true.
But now we come to a problem: It seems logical to conclude that we, striving to imitate God revealed in Christ, should live like him, that is, we should live by left-hand power. Isn’t this precisely what Jesus extolled and taught, especially in the Sermon on the Mount? There the meek and mournful and poor in Spirit are the exemplars; there turning the cheek and submitting to unjust commands is the order of the day.
It doesn’t take more than a second of thought to recognize that this is not the world we live in. We know that acting consistently in this way is nothing but a formula for allowing death and destruction and all manner of evil to flourish. Two examples will suffice, one ordinary, one extraordinary.
Recently in the U.S., there was a hue and cry to “defund the police.” It was driven by rightful disgust with police brutality, but it was grounded in the idea that people are basically good citizens and can be talked down from criminal activity by patient persuasion. We don’t need implicit threats of power nor actual strong-arm tactics to maintain peace in our communities.
But of course, the cities that defunded the police saw a dramatic increase in crime, everything from shoplifting to violent attacks on the innocent. The most dramatic example is Oakland, California, which is experiencing an epidemic of lawlessness:
A report published in February showed the Oakland Police Department had a case clearance rate of 1.5 percent for serious criminal offenses in 2022, and just 6.5 percent for violent crimes. In other words, there’s a 93.5 percent chance you’ll get away with attacking someone in Oakland, and a 98.5 percent chance you’ll get away with a crime like burglarizing a store or stealing a car. When it takes days to get the most routine response, it leads to a sense of impunity.
To be sure, there is no simple correlation between the size of a police force and the rate of crime—how a community polices makes a big difference. But most people in most places recognize that we need a police force, and why we use the word force to talk about this reality. We know that for even a modicum of peace and justice to exist in a community, there must be overt use of force– or the implicit threat of force-- to keep order.
It even matters in trivial concerns. I’d like to think that I don’t speed because I don’t want to injure people when I’m driving. But I’m sorry to admit that I stay within the speed limit often because, as I look out my rearview mirror, I’m anxious about getting a ticket, which I will have to pay or I’ll get dragged into court.
The more dramatic example are brutal regimes, the classic case being Nazi Germany—as we’ve been reminded recently with the impressive Netflix series, “Hitler and the Nazis: Evil on Trial.” The cruel invasion of neighboring states and the heartless and cruel murder of Jews, among others, was not going to be stopped by turning the other cheek or going the extra mile with the SS. The only thing that brought a modicum of peace and justice to Europe was a massive effort to defeat the enemy by military might.
We also see the need for overt power moves in everyday life. Unruly children need discipline. Wayward employees are held accountable. And if some aggressor were to threaten my family with harm, I would do everything in my right-hand power to repel him.
So it seems clear, to me anyway, that a community sits on a foundation of overt power or threats of power—right-hand power. It’s not the only foundation, but it is a necessary precondition of order. And in our everyday dealings, often the most loving and just action is the use of overt power or the threat of power. And when such is employed as fairly and as justly as is humanly possible, peace reigns in a community. This is why even Christians, who sign off on every word of the Sermon on the Mount, are proud to serve in the military or law enforcement, so that peace can reign by the just use of right-hand power.
But where does that leave us? Are Jesus’ example and words about the power of sacrificial love useless in the world in which we live?
This is not a new conundrum; this tension was already evident in the early church. But it is something each generation has to work through. For better or worse, here is how I work through it.
The ethics and example of sacrificial love are clearly the ultimate expressions of what human behavior should look like—that is, the left-hand power of humble, patient, gentle persuasion, and sacrifice for others. A lot of times, though, the very love we profess demands that we use strong arm tactics to establish justice between individuals and between states. And yet, Jesus’ ethic cannot be abandoned.
If nothing else, it can powerfully mitigate and check the right hand from, well, getting out of hand. This is precisely why we are rightly outraged by police brutality. We need police force, but we want it employed as humanely as possible.
Solidiers may not turn the other cheek, but when they win a war, we expect them to treat their enemies—those who were just trying to kill them—with civility and respect.
A parent or teacher will rightly discipline a wayward child but only employ discipline that helps shape a child in the way that he should go.
Sometimes Christians will take an offender to court to get justice—and hopefully not for excessive renumeration because of a loop-hole in the law.
At the same time, sometimes we rightly refuse to force offenders to recompense us and we simply turn the other cheek. The parent sometimes must overlook the misbehavior of her child because, well, children can be so childish! A manager should give an employee one more opportunity to correct her behavior before letting her go. And a wife will graciously ignore an insensitive remark from her husband because, well, he’s a man, after all. :-)
The point is we are still called to follow the ethic of sacrificial love in the here and now, as we live in the midst of communities held together by right-hand power. Sometimes we mitigate that right-hand power with the left-hand power. And sometimes, because we do in fact often live in relatively just and peaceful communities, we love with pure patience and unquestioned sacrifice.
How do we know when and how to wisely employ left-hand power in a complex world? It’s not always easy to discern. Prayer and counsel from friends can help. Wisdom and faith, both of which grow as we mature, play a large role. Admitting wrong and seeking forgiveness when we misuse right-hand power is crucial.
Another key, perhaps our North Star, is keeping our eyes fixed on the divine promise, reminding us of our destiny, the time when the need for right-hand power will be no more:
They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore. (Isaiah 4:4)
Grace and peace,
Mark
I may be wrong (I probably am) but lately I've come to understand the Biblical concept of "justice" holds a different definition than the one we normally use in our Western world. In our culture, we define "justice" as visiting retribution or punishment meted out to those who have wronged or harmed others. While that may be part of the Biblical understanding, it's only a very small part. When we acknowledge that God's ultimate aim for all of us is restoration to perfect relationships with Him and all others, the meaning of His "justice" becomes the restoration of all things to their proper place. It's true that sometimes this requires the application of right hand justice but, as you so well noted, His kingdom is much more oriented to the use and application of the left-hand methods. But both are part of the same process and not opposed to one another. The important thing is to keep the end in mind when informing our decisions as to how to interact with the world as a whole. Not a simple "how to" answer I know. And, as I said, I'm probably way off base here. But that's my current thinking for what it's worth.
Excellent discussion!