it’s enough to make me (want to be) a pacifist
while the spirits run amok
“When those who were around [Jesus] saw what was coming, they asked, ‘Lord, should we strike with the sword?’ Then one of them struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, ‘No more of this!’ And he touched his ear and healed him” (Luke 22:49-51).
The event quoted from Luke’s gospel is from the night in which Jesus is betrayed and arrested. The disciples gathered around him are alarmed. Jesus has been a wanted man for quite some time, and by extension, they also are under suspicion. The big boys, the ones with weapons and words and weapons, are closing in. The pulse rate of Jesus’ students kicks into high gear. The reptilian parts of their brains glow white hot.
Their rabbi is in danger! A weapon is drawn. Permission is sought, but the reptile screams, “Do it!” A slave’s ear is parted from his head. A desperate justice is raging. The next seconds are crucial.
[Admittedly, this was not the weapon drawn.]
Jesus acts. He issues a command. To whom does he speak? And what is his tone of voice? But wait, what is this he’s doing? Jesus, you do understand what they will do to you?
(And dare I say he was a Jew? Okay, I dare say.)
Unbeknown to most, Jesus has just been agonizing over what should happen if the terrible moment arrives. He isn’t a masochist. He doesn’t have a death wish. Most importantly, he has no idea I would be writing this almost twenty centuries later. (Hey, I’m trying to be humble!)
Indeed, twenty centuries later, I have participated in very serious discussions of the pros and cons of the use of violence—often from the rugged risks of a classroom.
I once imagined the journalistic thrill of war zone reporting. Movies like Under Fire fired my imagination. (Okay, maybe I’m being too clever with words.) The Year of Living Dangerously suggested a dangerous way to spend my years. (All right, I’ll stop.) However, I didn’t pursue journalism, let alone war zone journalism. It seemed a little too close to… war.
We aren’t short on pundits and experts weighing in on strategies and political ramifications of outbreaks of violence. Folks with weighty credentials are asked to analyze the thoughts of those orchestrating the action. What does he hope to gain? (It usually is a “he.”) What response from his allies is he expecting? What about his opponents?
And so on.
When faced with violence, even the most level-headed of us usually lose composure. Especially when that idiot cut me off in traffic! I suppose if we were having a nice, pleasant lunch, the idea of calling my companion an “idiot” likely wouldn’t occur to me. But getting into that car changes everything.
Returning to journalism and “journalism,” picture that fateful evening in the Garden of Gethsemane displayed on television and appearing throughout the internet. I can’t imagine a calm and dispassionate report. Nor would I add, should such be expected. If there weren’t a sense of alarm and astonishment, I would say something is horribly out of order.
Still, we too often become gripped by what defies reason. And that is no accident. We are encouraged to become prisoners of hate, even though its purveyors would vehemently deny it. “Where is the outrage?” We are to jettison rationality. Evil hates clear thinking. The scriptures speak of those who “go from bad to worse, deceiving others and being deceived” (2 Timothy 3:13).
Often accompanied by my discussions of the pros and cons of using violence have been considerations of pacifism.
The just war theory also makes appearances. It has a long history with numerous factors, among them being war with a just cause, it being a last resort, and it being a proportional response, that is, roughly of equal magnitude—even in cases of retaliation.
Deuteronomy 20 contains rules of warfare, including the destruction of crops. “If you besiege a town for a long time, making war against it in order to take it, you must not destroy its trees by wielding an ax against them. Although you may take food from them, you must not cut them down… You may destroy only the trees that you know do not produce food…” (vv. 19-20).
[Banksy, “Rage, the Flower Thrower”]
As I indicate with my title, all of this murder and mayhem is enough to make me (want to be) a pacifist. I’m very close to being a pacifist. Very close. I believe if the just war traditions were strictly observed, the end result would look much like pacifism.
We rely on our guts and knee jerk responses when faced with violence and war. We betray our minds and spirits—and the willingness to really listen to the other. We are captured by ideology. We see this at universities and businesses. We shame and “cancel” those who disagree, or who at least point out more than one legitimate viewpoint. It helps if we can dehumanize the other, if we reduce them to slogans and sound bites.
One thing I can say, and I believe this with all my heart: war is stupid. War is foolish. It is difficult to reason with a fool.
Eight decades ago, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was executed by the Nazis in 1945, compared folly to evil. His thoughts are outlined in an essay in the book Letters and Papers from Prison.
“Folly is a more dangerous enemy to the good than evil,” he wrote. “One can protest against evil; it can be unmasked and, if need be, prevented by force. Evil always carries the seeds of its own destruction, as it makes people, at the least, uncomfortable. Against folly we have no defense. Neither protests nor force can touch it; reasoning is no use; facts that contradict personal prejudices can simply be disbelieved.” (8)
But there is light in the darkness. Bonhoeffer affirms “it is quite clear…that folly can be overcome, not by instruction, but only by an act of liberation… The Bible’s words that ‘the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom’ (Psalm 111:10) tell us that a person’s inward liberation to live a responsible life before God is the only real cure for folly.” (9)
What are we to do about the hair-trigger, seeing-red that tends to infect us? What can we do about the spirits of strife and murder that run loose among us? Culture, economics, education, psychology, sociology—they all and more have their place. Still, strife and murder are indeed spirits. Bonhoeffer was right. Liberation, salvation, is needed.
…But Jesus said, “No more of this!”