Which Is It - Kill Your Enemy Or Love Him? (December 28, 2003)
Recently I was asked,
Why were the Old Testament Israelites commanded to slaughter their enemies but Jesus commands us to love ours?
First of all, the Israelites were not commanded to slaughter their enemies in all circumstances. Deuteronomy 20:10-15 gives the general rule for warfare - it is a kind of "Geneva Convention" protocol in which the first step was to offer peace. If the offer was accepted, then the enemy was simply subjugated without a drop of blood being shed. Only if the peace offer was refused were the Israelites allowed to go to war - and that would begin with a siege rather than a bloody assault. When it came to actual fighting, only the men (enemy combatants) were to be killed. Civilians (women and children) were spared. I defy anyone to find a more restrained rule of combat in any ancient text anywhere in the world.
The Israelites were actually told to be kind to foreigners in their midst - an oddly "modern" commandment in a world where racist suspicion was assumed. For example, Exodus 22:21: "Do not mistreat an alien or oppress him, for you were aliens in Egypt." Leviticus 19:34: "The foreigner living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt.”
The command to slaughter enemies was limited to a specific time and targeted to a specific place. It concerned only those living within the borders of the Promised Land at the time the Israelites arrived. These people were not to be given an offer of peace as outlined in Deuteronomy 20:10-15. The next few verses (16-18) read:
However, in the cities of the nations the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance, do not leave alive anything that breathes. Completely destroy them - the Hittites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites - as the Lord your God has commanded you. Otherwise, they will teach you to follow all the detestable things they do in worshiping their gods, and you will sin against the Lord your God.
Why so harsh? Why kill everybody? Read the stomach-turning regulations in Leviticus 18 and it may explain a lot. That chapter forbids all kinds of perversions - like sons having sex with their mothers, brothers and sisters copulating, people violating animals, and parents sacrificing their children to the demon god Molech. The inspiration for these laws is found in verse 24: "Do not defile yourselves in any of these ways, because this is how the nations that I am going to drive out before you became defiled." All the nasty things in Leviticus 18 were accepted pieces of Canaanite culture.
The inhabitants of that land had become so perverse that they simply had to be eradicated. For centuries the wickedness had been building up as severely twisted people passed on their twisted natures and sick cultural norms (like incest and human sacrifice) to succeeding generations. Look - there's bad and there's hopeless. Some cancers you can treat, some you just have to cut out. Four hundred years earlier, the evil of this land was not ripe enough for judgment, as indicated in God's words to Abraham in Genesis 15:16: "In the fourth generation [here meaning 400 years] your descendants will come back here, for the sin of the Amorites has not yet reached its full measure." There we learn of God's patience with the inhabitants of this land - they were given 400 years to repent, but they only got worse. When their culture-wide corruption reached its zenith, God said, "Enough is enough. Destroy it all."
It reminds me of a scene in a book about the Ebola virus, The Hot Zone. When a certain lab facility was thought to be infected, health authorities evacuated the building, sealed it off hermetically, and released a substance that had the power to kill everything - even those microbes that could survive a nuclear holocaust. The author wrote that after this treatment, that building was the only one in the world where there was nothing living, nothing at all. The health authorities took such measures because you do not want to mess with the Ebola virus.
Israel, rather than obediently eradicating the cultural Ebola that was Canaan, let many of its inhabitants live, and soon adopted its corrupt practices. The Old Testament's account of Israel's subsequent, relentless slide into corruption is the saddest human tragedy you'll ever read.
So there was a good reason why in this particular case the Israelites were commanded to destroy their enemies. But Jesus, when he says in Matthew 5:44, "Love your enemies," is addressing a completely different situation. The whole text in Matthew reads:
But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? (Matthew 5:44-47)
Jesus is not talking about conflict on a battlefield. He is talking about personal relationships with those who mistreat us or with those who stand outside our circle of friends. He is saying, "Pray for mean people - even those who are mean to you. Do acts of kindness and say hello even to those who aren't in your group."
If you have seen Fiddler on the Roof, for example, think of the way Reb Tevye could greet and even have a respectfully cordial relationship with his "enemy," the Russian constable. While others in Tevye's group might refuse to acknowledge the constable's existence, or spit on the ground whenever the man walked by, Tevye would give the man the time of day and maybe even offer him a piece of cheese. That is not to say he would refrain from killing him if the two ever found themselves in opposing armies on a field of battle.
Sunday, December 28, 2003
Sunday, December 21, 2003
I'm Afraid Your Cynicism Is Justified (December 21, 2003)
My son Ben told me that lately he has become cynical and suspect of human nature. He has seen so much evil, and he is so tired of mean people, and he is sick to death of bad people corrupting and poisoning everything around him.
And I say, good for him. Just as "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," so a cynical appraisal of humanity is the beginning of theological maturity. Until the full force of human depravity knocks you flat on your face, you can't fully appreciate how desperately we need a Savior. Mankind failed, fails, and apart from God's grace will continue to fail till "all the thoughts of his heart are only evil all the time." That is why Jesus had to be born and live and die for us. Not because we were good enough to deserve him, but because we were bad enough to need him.
I have found that the failure to take human depravity into account results in great misery and even disillusionment with the things of God. For that reason I admonish fellow ministers to guard their words so as not to make careless prophecies about how others will respond to our goodness. Here is something I read recently from Pastor Jack Hayford: "Where people see love's vitality, worth and attractiveness, they will inquire into the truth that produces it." Really? They will? I think the best we can say is that some of them might. A multitude saw Jesus' vitality, worth and attractiveness - and crucified him. Look around, and you will see that vicious responses to goodness happen daily. This morning's Chicago Tribune tells the story of a police officer who kindly stopped to help a motorist with a disabled car, and the driver, rather than "inquiring into the truth" that produced the officer's charity, shot and killed him.
Last week I heard Chuck Swindoll on the radio tell us husbands that if we acted in a certain way, "Your wife will LOVE you." I turned off the radio in disgust, knowing that the Bible promises no such thing. I thought of the many men and women I have known who were married to beasts who responded to daily loving-kindness with relentless cruelty. In discussions with my son about the scope of depravity, I showed him a passage in a biography about Jonathan Edwards, America's greatest theologian. Edward's grandmother Elizabeth was pregnant with another man's child when she married her husband Richard in 1667. Though Richard was good to her, and forgave her (even paying the fornication fine himself!), she continued with "fits of perversity...repeated infidelities, rages, threats of violence, including the threat to cut Richard's throat while he was asleep." Later she abandoned the family. I have known too many Elizabeths (and their male counterparts) to bubble about how wonderful people will be if we just learn their "love language" and show them the kindness of Christ. That counsel simply does not acknowledge how nasty and unresponsive some people are.
I was cheered to read this bit of realism from J. R. R. Tolkien (Christian author of The Lord of the Rings) in Christianity Today : "One must face the fact: the power of Evil in the world is not finally resistible by incarnate creatures, however 'good.'" Thank you, Tolkien! That sentiment accords both with my experience and the Bible's clear teaching. Mankind is evil and needs a Restorer, powerless and needs a Savior, hell-bent and needs a Rescuer. The conquest of evil does not come from ourselves, and never can. Don’t trust man. Trust rather in Christ, God Incarnate, our only hope.
My son Ben told me that lately he has become cynical and suspect of human nature. He has seen so much evil, and he is so tired of mean people, and he is sick to death of bad people corrupting and poisoning everything around him.
And I say, good for him. Just as "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," so a cynical appraisal of humanity is the beginning of theological maturity. Until the full force of human depravity knocks you flat on your face, you can't fully appreciate how desperately we need a Savior. Mankind failed, fails, and apart from God's grace will continue to fail till "all the thoughts of his heart are only evil all the time." That is why Jesus had to be born and live and die for us. Not because we were good enough to deserve him, but because we were bad enough to need him.
I have found that the failure to take human depravity into account results in great misery and even disillusionment with the things of God. For that reason I admonish fellow ministers to guard their words so as not to make careless prophecies about how others will respond to our goodness. Here is something I read recently from Pastor Jack Hayford: "Where people see love's vitality, worth and attractiveness, they will inquire into the truth that produces it." Really? They will? I think the best we can say is that some of them might. A multitude saw Jesus' vitality, worth and attractiveness - and crucified him. Look around, and you will see that vicious responses to goodness happen daily. This morning's Chicago Tribune tells the story of a police officer who kindly stopped to help a motorist with a disabled car, and the driver, rather than "inquiring into the truth" that produced the officer's charity, shot and killed him.
Last week I heard Chuck Swindoll on the radio tell us husbands that if we acted in a certain way, "Your wife will LOVE you." I turned off the radio in disgust, knowing that the Bible promises no such thing. I thought of the many men and women I have known who were married to beasts who responded to daily loving-kindness with relentless cruelty. In discussions with my son about the scope of depravity, I showed him a passage in a biography about Jonathan Edwards, America's greatest theologian. Edward's grandmother Elizabeth was pregnant with another man's child when she married her husband Richard in 1667. Though Richard was good to her, and forgave her (even paying the fornication fine himself!), she continued with "fits of perversity...repeated infidelities, rages, threats of violence, including the threat to cut Richard's throat while he was asleep." Later she abandoned the family. I have known too many Elizabeths (and their male counterparts) to bubble about how wonderful people will be if we just learn their "love language" and show them the kindness of Christ. That counsel simply does not acknowledge how nasty and unresponsive some people are.
I was cheered to read this bit of realism from J. R. R. Tolkien (Christian author of The Lord of the Rings) in Christianity Today : "One must face the fact: the power of Evil in the world is not finally resistible by incarnate creatures, however 'good.'" Thank you, Tolkien! That sentiment accords both with my experience and the Bible's clear teaching. Mankind is evil and needs a Restorer, powerless and needs a Savior, hell-bent and needs a Rescuer. The conquest of evil does not come from ourselves, and never can. Don’t trust man. Trust rather in Christ, God Incarnate, our only hope.
Sunday, December 14, 2003
Salvation Army To The Rescue (December 14, 2003)
'Tis the season to remember the poor.
Last Saturday my son Peter and I rang bells for the Salvation Army at the Fox Valley Mall as part of a volunteer program that his school conducts. I enjoyed explaining to other volunteers what the Salvation Army meant to my mother when she was a little girl.
Back about 1934 a couple Salvation Army "lassies" began to visit my mother's home. They would play their guitars and sing, and sometimes bring a magazine for my mother (10 years old at the time) to read to her younger siblings. In an article she wrote nearly 40 years later for the now-defunct Chicago Daily News, Mom related how the Salvation Army made their Christmas that year. An excerpt:
During the Christmas season, Mom took us on a seemingly endless
streetcar ride to the big auditorium where the Army gave a party for
underprivileged children. There was a great white horse on stage who
could answer questions with a nod that was obviously a "Yes" or a
shake of his great mane that definitely meant "No." That amazingly
clever animal could even stamp out answers to simple arithmetic
problems with his great hoofs.
A glistening tree towered over a huge pile of brightly wrapped gifts;
a smiling fat Santa handed me a game from the stack and gave my
sisters each a stuffed toy. We all carried a box of hard candy home,
even Mom.
Since Dad had not worked steadily for months and we were "on relief," we knew that Christmas dinner couldn't be anything special that year. But that was the same year two tall cadets carried a bushel basket full of food between them up our long stairway. And, oh joy! One carried a large brown wrapped package under his arm that held a turkey.
The best thing those Salvation Army officers did was make Mom and her sisters promise to attend Sunday School whenever they could. A few years later, she met the man who would become my father at Moody Church's Sunday School. But that is another story.
Mom never forgot her indebtedness to the Salvation Army. It was a rule in our family growing up that we could not pass by one of their red kettles without putting some money in. I've passed that tradition to my boys and mention it to others as I have opportunity. (My oldest brother has even passed along the tradition to students he teaches in high school. One reported back to him about a shopping spree where he was confronted with a dozen kettles, and dutifully chucked in a coin each time!)
In Galatians 2:10, where Paul reports that he and Barnabas had agreed to divide evangelistic labor with James, Peter and John, the original apostles endorsed the plan with one request: "All they asked was that we should continue to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do."
As you spend and shop and travel and eat during this holiday season, be eager to remember the poor. Some of those recipients of your mercy, like my mother, will remember your generosity for decades, and pass it along to their children and children's children, and they will glorify God in heaven.
'Tis the season to remember the poor.
Last Saturday my son Peter and I rang bells for the Salvation Army at the Fox Valley Mall as part of a volunteer program that his school conducts. I enjoyed explaining to other volunteers what the Salvation Army meant to my mother when she was a little girl.
Back about 1934 a couple Salvation Army "lassies" began to visit my mother's home. They would play their guitars and sing, and sometimes bring a magazine for my mother (10 years old at the time) to read to her younger siblings. In an article she wrote nearly 40 years later for the now-defunct Chicago Daily News, Mom related how the Salvation Army made their Christmas that year. An excerpt:
During the Christmas season, Mom took us on a seemingly endless
streetcar ride to the big auditorium where the Army gave a party for
underprivileged children. There was a great white horse on stage who
could answer questions with a nod that was obviously a "Yes" or a
shake of his great mane that definitely meant "No." That amazingly
clever animal could even stamp out answers to simple arithmetic
problems with his great hoofs.
A glistening tree towered over a huge pile of brightly wrapped gifts;
a smiling fat Santa handed me a game from the stack and gave my
sisters each a stuffed toy. We all carried a box of hard candy home,
even Mom.
Since Dad had not worked steadily for months and we were "on relief," we knew that Christmas dinner couldn't be anything special that year. But that was the same year two tall cadets carried a bushel basket full of food between them up our long stairway. And, oh joy! One carried a large brown wrapped package under his arm that held a turkey.
The best thing those Salvation Army officers did was make Mom and her sisters promise to attend Sunday School whenever they could. A few years later, she met the man who would become my father at Moody Church's Sunday School. But that is another story.
Mom never forgot her indebtedness to the Salvation Army. It was a rule in our family growing up that we could not pass by one of their red kettles without putting some money in. I've passed that tradition to my boys and mention it to others as I have opportunity. (My oldest brother has even passed along the tradition to students he teaches in high school. One reported back to him about a shopping spree where he was confronted with a dozen kettles, and dutifully chucked in a coin each time!)
In Galatians 2:10, where Paul reports that he and Barnabas had agreed to divide evangelistic labor with James, Peter and John, the original apostles endorsed the plan with one request: "All they asked was that we should continue to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do."
As you spend and shop and travel and eat during this holiday season, be eager to remember the poor. Some of those recipients of your mercy, like my mother, will remember your generosity for decades, and pass it along to their children and children's children, and they will glorify God in heaven.
Sunday, December 7, 2003
Do You Like Anything? (December 7, 2003)
I am indebted to a fellow student in seminary who noted my tendency to "go negative" in my sermon illustrations. If I wanted to make a point about, say, humility, I'd refer to someone being proud and condemn that rather than someone being humble and praise that.
It was a point well taken, and it re-occurred to me as I reflected on the fact that my last two Pastor's Pages were in the attack mode, first ripping drug abuse and then venting on sloppy evangelical jargon. I meant every word I wrote - but I also want to acknowledge that there is a time to talk about things that are good and wonderful and delightful. Paul said, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things." (Philippians 4:8).
One of my favorite scenes in literature is in The Catcher in the Rye where Phoebe Caulfield challenges her brother Holden to say something he likes, and he has the hardest time coming up with anything. He has lived so long in a state of hate that the attempt to shift from contempt to appreciation knocks him completely off balance.
It shouldn't knock us off balance to talk about things we like. So, I am going to pretend Phoebe Caulfield has just asked me to name some things I love, and respond with a quick list.
I love watching a mature individual defuse a tense situation.
I love seeing a person of limited ability give an all-out effort.
I love hearing someone commend a worthy man or woman.
I love playing basketball with a sharp point guard who knows how to find me coming off a screen.
I love hearing a child (or someone child-like) talk about something they love.
I just asked my wife the Phoebe Caulfield question, and she had a good one:
"Chinese food."
I am indebted to a fellow student in seminary who noted my tendency to "go negative" in my sermon illustrations. If I wanted to make a point about, say, humility, I'd refer to someone being proud and condemn that rather than someone being humble and praise that.
It was a point well taken, and it re-occurred to me as I reflected on the fact that my last two Pastor's Pages were in the attack mode, first ripping drug abuse and then venting on sloppy evangelical jargon. I meant every word I wrote - but I also want to acknowledge that there is a time to talk about things that are good and wonderful and delightful. Paul said, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things." (Philippians 4:8).
One of my favorite scenes in literature is in The Catcher in the Rye where Phoebe Caulfield challenges her brother Holden to say something he likes, and he has the hardest time coming up with anything. He has lived so long in a state of hate that the attempt to shift from contempt to appreciation knocks him completely off balance.
It shouldn't knock us off balance to talk about things we like. So, I am going to pretend Phoebe Caulfield has just asked me to name some things I love, and respond with a quick list.
I love watching a mature individual defuse a tense situation.
I love seeing a person of limited ability give an all-out effort.
I love hearing someone commend a worthy man or woman.
I love playing basketball with a sharp point guard who knows how to find me coming off a screen.
I love hearing a child (or someone child-like) talk about something they love.
I just asked my wife the Phoebe Caulfield question, and she had a good one:
"Chinese food."
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