The kitchen is clean! Woo-hoo!

As I was cleaning, I was listening to CNN and pondering this whole war mess. I was also pondering the "just war" question. It no doubt seems heartless to reject the "galiant US forces" going in to "liberate" Iraq. I really don't question their motives, or the motives of the Christians that support war. However, I'm reminded of something from Screwtape Letters. If you have not yet read Screwtape, stop reading this, read it, then come back and finish reading this.

[Since I know you won't do that, I'll summarize: Screwtape is a fictional book by a guy names C.S. Lewis. Lewis takes on the person of a senior devil (Screwtape) writing instructions to his nephew (Slubgob) who has been assigned as a temptor to a human in late thirties England. Slubgob's goal is to corrupt the human to the point that he goes to hell, and Screwtape's goal is to eat Slubgob. So, the rights are wrong, and the wrongs are right. I doubt I would be a Christian if not for this book.]

Screwtape said something to the effect of "We must always encourage them to push all the virtues outward, and to keep all the malice, envy, and hate close to home. So, they can have the greatest compassion for the poor Nazi GI -- 1000 miles away -- but must be mean and hateful to their neighbor." Earlier today, I heard on the news how peace protesters had essentially started a minor riot in San Francisco, and I think that this illustrates the point: peace, love, and freedom for Iraq, but for my neighbors? Malice and destruction. It seems that, for at least some of the protesters, the goodness of the "big goal" justifies abandoning the principle at home. This is just one point of the larger inconsistency of the pacifist movement: most of the same people who are pacifists are quick enough to use the courts when they feel they are wronged -- yet the authority of the courts ultimately boils down to "do this or you'll go to jail. Go to jail, or we'll grab you. Cooperate when we grab you or we'll kill you." I'm not sure that there's a clear moral difference between that kind of force, writ small, and the force the US is using, which is just writ large. Funny how nobody protests that.

(This kind of hypocrisy abounds. As a Southerner, I have observed that many Northerners are just as much -- if not more -- racist than many southerners. However, it was at least in part pressure from the north that brought down segregation. They wanted justice in the south, but perhaps did not particularly want it at their local high school. Yes, they got it anyway... but the point is that social justic sounds like a much better idea when it's someone else's society.)

Anyway, I guess what I'm arriving too is that justice is not a terribly good standard for Christians. Or, as my mother used to say, "Most people should be glad that they don't get what they deserve." Justice is a two-edged sword -- "you have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things" (Romans 2.1) -- it will cut us just as quickly as it will cut those we oppose. What we need is a better standard. Such a better standard is what Christianity -- whether the metaphor is liberation, resurrection, grace, love, submission or even peace -- is all about. The standard of Christianity is one that allowed an innocent man to be condemned to a horrible death that he did not deserve. It's about justice deferred into the hands of God and love drawn close into our hearts, knowing that we can trust God to take care of justice. (And if you don't like that, take it up with God.)

I just got convicted to go clean up the house for my wife tonight, so she won't have to do it tomorrow. How's that for theology? (No time to write more.)

If accepted, the just war theory proves that the Church's principles are for sale. Then, we just need to negotiate a price.

A note to a friend:

First, thanks for the sensitive and timely message. I would like to
add a few thoughts on this subject. As I write this (9:53PM, Wed.), I am
watching the beginnings of war on CNN, and I am struck by just how sad
this war is. Regardless of your position -- that this is a Just War,
that this is not a Just war or, like me, that the Just War Theory is
just a mistake -- I think we can all agree that the exercise of
military force is an occasion for mourning. I have to admit, I'm
pretty distressed at the moment by the degree to which many (most?)
American Christians seem to have forgotten this.

However, there is something even more important that I'm afraid the
church has forgotten. Over the past several months, I have watched
the church tearing itself apart over this issue. I'm aware of several
people who have left churches because the church failed to endorse
war, and at least one who left a church with much ill will because the
church refused to rail against the war. I myself, as a decidedly
"dovish" Christian have, again and again, been accused of all kinds of
perfidy. For example, one correspondent told me that, so far as he
was concerned, Christian "pacifists" were just "unwilling to bear the
cross of suffering for [their] fellow man." Another old friend is
scarcely speaking with me after finding out that I see war as no fit
vocation for a Christian.

The principle being lost, of course, is the unity of the church. I'm
reminded of Romans 14: ethical correctness may be less important
than the unity of the church. I am not convinced that the principle of
abstention from war is adequately established that we should
divide over it. (However, it is worth noting that Christian
opposition to military service seems to have been universal prior to
Constantine).

That being said, there are two questions in your post I would like to
address. The first relates to your points about Jesus' scourging of
the temple. To me, the question is not so much whether Jesus showed
anger -- I think that anger is sometimes appropriate if it is not
misplaced -- as whether Jesus used force against his fellow man. The
question is not whether we get angry, but what we will do with our
anger.

I see no particular reason to think that, when Jesus scourged the
temple, he drove the moneychangers out:

In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and
pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there. And making a whip
of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and
oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned
their tables. And he told those who sold the pigeons, "Take these
things away; do not make my Father's house a house of trade." (John
2.14-, ESV)

Unfortunately, this translation, like most, gives the impression that
"them all" refers to the money-changers and possibly also their
animals. However, there is some credible argument that "them all"
(gk. pantas) refers not to the sellers, nor to the sellers and the
animals, but only to the animals. From Yoder's The Politics of
Jesus:

The reader can [emphasis mine] take "them all" as referring to
the money changers and the vendors of animals. Yet, ever since the
earliest centuries, careful analysis of the text has excluded this
interpretation and supported the trend of the newer translations:
"...drove all the animals out of the temple, both the sheep and the
cattle" [...] The normal sense of the conjunction te kai is to
initiate a list, not to continue a series begining with "them all."
The "the all" (pantas) may with equal grammatical propriety refer to
the preceding "sellers and changers" or to the following "sheep and
bullocks."

The grammatical argument being ambiguous, Yoder also raises some
purely practical concerns to drive the point home. Specifically: if
Jesus had gone into the temple and driven those who were legally there
out by force, there would have been no need to search for a charge
against him -- he would have been arrested immediately and punished in
some way. A little civil disorder against unpopular moneychangers is
one thing, assault is quite another. Yet, we are told, he taught in
the temple regularly immediately after this episode, and there was
great difficulty finding a charge that would stick.

Incidentally, I'm surprised that you didn't bring up the "two swords"
issue (Luke 22.38). Fortunately, careful reading renders it no more
substantial than the scourging of the temple.

Now to one of my favorite topics: the just war theory. Given that
you are opposed to war in this particular case, I wonder how you feel
about war in general? There are two possible Christian positions on
war: either war (and the use of force in general) is acceptable for
Christians in some cases, or it is not. The former position is what
advocates of the just war theory uphold - they maintain that, in
order to build a just world, believers must sometimes be willing to
use force against evil people.

This all sounds very good, but unfortunately has no scriptural
basis. Let's consider the ultimate injustice: the crucifixion of
Jesus. Throughout the New Testament, there is an overwhelming sense
of awe that Jesus, who was without sin, could accept so ignominious a
fate. We are told, specifically, that he was without sin, yet he was
treated as a sinner. Surely this is unjust? So, by the just war
theory, surely it should have been opposed? Yet, what did Jesus do?
First, when Peter tried to defend him, he rebuked Peter saying "those
who live by the sword will perish by the sword" [too lazy to look up
the ref]. Then, when before Pilate, and asked what he had done, he
says:

My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of
this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not
be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.
Jn 18.36

If this verse doesn't make us blink, then we should read it again.
Jesus specifically refuses to use military force to in the face of
great injustice and mortal peril. Our ethic is love, and this is the
pattern of love - that we should give up our lives for our friends
(John 16 or so). Nothing about killing - just dying.

So, whence the just war theory? Let it be said, I have not been able
to find a scintilla of support for the just war theory prior to
Ambrose in the late 3rd century. The theory was first clearly
formulated by Augustine in the 4th century. To make a long story
short, he built upon philosophy -- so much of the work of the Bard of
Hippo is founded in philosophy -- to rationalize his way into
accepting wars. To let Paul speak for himself:

See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and
empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental
spirits* of the world, and not according to Christ. (Col
2.8)

The bottom line is that we do not get the just war theory from
Christ, but from good old fashioned "human tradition, according to
the elemental spirits of the world." On an aside, if this post
arouses as much ire as I hope it will, I want to challenge anyone
advocating the Just War theory to find anything resembling that
reasoning in the New Testament.

But wait, you say, what about the Old? Well, what about the Old
Testament? This comes down to an issue of the covenenant. I find
that those who advocate the "Just War" rarely conceive of any
significant line between the Old Testament and the New. However, such
a position is unsustainable. In the Old Testament, the covenant
people were defined ethnically, and were maintained in the ways in
which ethnic groups have always been maintained. (Although it is
worth noting that, most often, Israel always failed when she fought
for herself. She only won when she fought by the direct order and
supernatural support of God.) However, today the chosen people -- the
elect -- are defined not ethnically but by our commitment to Jesus.
Put another way, Jesus' "kingdom is not of this world." And, since it
is not of this world, we have no need to fight for it with the weapons
of this world. "We do not wrestle against flesh and
blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the
cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces
of evil in the heavenly places." (Eph. 6:12)

Which brings us to what is, I think, the most important point in all
of this. I often see Christians commend the virtues of patriotism.
In fact, the church where Leland meets in Hampton Roads has, on their
billboard, a sign saying "Freedom is not Free -- Ask a Veteran."
However, that is not a particularly Christian statement! In fact, it
is just the opposite, because it is concerned exclusively with a very
worldly and narrow definition of freedom. They are right Freedom is
not free -- Jesus paid dearly for it. And with all due respect to
the good intentions of those in uniform, none of them can buy one
ounce of freedom. Freedom is found only in the kingdom of God, which
is "not of this world." The reason we as a church are violent is that
we as a church are worldly. Why do we fight earthly battles when
heavenly battles are being lost daily? Why do we fight battles for a
kingdom which is not ours? "Our citizenship is in heaven" - why do
we not take that seriously.

And, let it be said, pacifists are no less guilty of this than
non-pacifists. Every time I read a pacifist web site, or listen to a
pacifist argue his point, or talk to a pacifist, I find that their
arguments quickly degenerate from "we won't fight because we don't
need to fight because we have a place in heaven" into petty
rationalizations as to why this particular war is not practical, not
just, or whatever. If our principles have to be proven "practical",
then we have already lost, because we have already sold out to the
world! This massive sell-out on the part of pacifists is why I
choose not to use the term. Call me a peacemaker, better yet call me
a non-resister, but don't call me a pacifist. I'm not a pacifist -
I'm just a Christian who won't fight.

One last note. I'm often told that my brand of non-engagement
abandons the wider world to its faith. This is simply not true.
A refusal to engage in worldly processes to create justice
does not mean that I cannot have any effect on the world. Just the
opposite: I can have more effect on the world by remaining true to
the principles Jesus laid out for me than I can by abandoning them.
Consider two cases: Martin Luther King and Malcom X. They each
shared a goal: the liberation of African Americans from brutal
oppression. And I think we have to acknowledge that they each had
some success. However, one was a Christian and one was not.
M.L. King refused violent tactics, making a principled, Christian,
decision, and did more good in 10 years than 150 years of African
American revolutionaries had ever done. It is absurd to claim that we
must be violent to change the world when Jesus wasn't.

Patrick

Today, I had a conversation that reminded me of something very important: it very, very possible to lose Jesus by loving the church too much. This happens when we stop thinking of the church as the body of Christ and start thinking of it as the building of Christ.

I just got back from my brother's wedding in Florida. In order to understand the wedding, you have to understand my family: we have long been deeply divided, in every generation. There is a lasting tradition of really blatant favoritism on the part of parents towards (and against) some of their children. This ends up creating an "in group" and an "out group." Once your role is cast in this system, it is almost impossible to change it. My brother is a white sheep, and I am black. And, so far as I can discern, nothing I do today would stand a chance of changing the label which I have inherited.

Anyway, I was somewhat discouraged by the evidence that this division has continued. My brother had my father and my sister in the wedding - and didn't even tell me it was happening. I heard about it third hand, then got an invitation. But it goes back a generation as well. Two married sets of aunt's and uncles -- the white sheep of the previous generation -- sat in the first two rows of the church, in the space reserved for immediate family. And, the remaining uncle and his wife sat in the back, safely anonymous. No doubt, if any of my family were to read this, they would offer many reasons why it was this way, and especially why these examples were the fault of the "black sheep."

But that's not what I'm here to talk about. I'm here to talk about the Church. I think that, just as my family is divided, the church is divided. And, I think, the division is perpetuated by the "white sheep" group. The black sheep are without voice, because they have already been marginalized, and the "white sheep" own the public face of the church. The white sheep are responsible, respectable, and wealthy. The white sheep listen to reason. The white sheep are practical. The white sheep are the part of the church that everyone wants to be. The white sheep believe in the just war theory, and the white sheep are politically engaged and "responsible."

And the black sheep are the lunatics who might just keep the church alive despite itself. Unfortunately, speaking as a black sheep in both the church and my family, I can tell you that the black sheep can rejoin the church only if the white sheep welcome us -- recognizing that we, the black sheep, have been pushed aside and that we, the black sheep, are needed, and that we, the black sheep, cannot become part of the flock unless the white sheep welcome us, seek us, and pull us back in. All without making us dye ourselves white. What this church needs is a few good radicals.