Unlocked
“But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.”
- Matthew 5:39-42
“On the contrary: ‘If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
- Romans 12:20-21
Jesus rightly asked what good it is to simply love one’s neighbor. His point was that everyone by nature loves those who love him, and there is nothing unique about such love. Jesus people, on the other hand, are called to a love that mimics the love of the Father, who “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” This indiscriminate love, based on God’s love for us and not on what the recipient of our love might do in return, is to be one of the defining characteristics of those who live as citizens of God’s kingdom.
The beauty of this love lies in its power to transform. It is so unexpected, so disarming, that it sneaks its way past people’s defenses. We will not be overcome with evil, nor will we relinquish our enemies to evil; we will overcome evil with good.
Nineteenth-century novelist Victor Hugo gives one of the moist poignant examples of this redeeming love in his novel, Les Miserables. After being invited into the bishop’s home and afforded every hospitality, recently released ex-convict Jean Valjean lives up to his sullied reputation by stealing the bishop’s silver tableware. When the women of the house discover his treachery and approach the bishop with exclamations of indignation at Valjean’s malfeasance, the bishop responds, “And in the first place, was that silver ours?.... Madame Magloire, I have for a long time detained that silver wrongfully. It belonged to the poor. Who was that man? A poor man, evidently.”
Shortly thereafter, a loud knock announces the arrival of a troop of soldiers with Jean Valjean, whom they have discovered with the stolen silver. The bishop’s response is resolute and immediate. He informs the soldiers that there has been a mistake. Valjean did not steal the silver; it was a gift. His only sin was forgetting to take the candlesticks as well, which would also fetch a handsome sum. Valjean stares at the bishop dumbfounded. The bishop says, “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God." This story had long held meaning for me, but it took on a new dimension when I saw this love in action.
Kyle came out of the house prepared to hop on his bike and head up to campus. The bike was a nice crossover road bike, Kyle’s constant companion and preferred form of transportation. Where he expected his old friend to greet him smiling, eager for another day together, he found only a busted bike chain, drooping dejectedly on either side of the chain-link fence. As the reality of the theft sunk in, Kyle’s smile slowly reversed until his lips matched the shape of the failed chain.
I found out about the theft by reading Kyle’s blog post later that day, a tragically humorous metaphorical account of a lover (his bike) being wooed away. He said, “It is not the lack of its presence I pine for, but instead the forgotten forgiveness that, I lament, cannot now be poured out. I would like to meet this Casanova if only to wish them well together, and perhaps pass along the gift of a hearty lock to keep her safe. Seriously.” Even before talking to him about it later that night, I knew that Kyle meant what he said. Of course, he was upset and inconvenienced, but more than anything he wished he could offer forgiveness to the thief.
His big chance came about a week later. As he jogged down Cockerell towards our house, cooling down from an evening run, a teenager on a bike slowly gained on him. To his surprise, it was our friend and occasional guest Trevan. He pulled even, and Kyle noticed that Trevan’s bike could have been twins with his own lost lover. Without comment on the bike, Kyle threw out a greeting, “Hey T, how you doing brother?”
“I just found this bike” Trevan cut in.
“Awesome man. Well, it looks like a great bike. I hope you enjoy it.”
Back at the house just a few minutes later, Kyle stretched and recounted his conversation. “I kind of froze in the moment. I wish I could have just told him that the bike was his, that it was a gift and he didn’t have to be scared to come around here, that we just want to be friends with him and don’t care about the bike.”
Josh, Aaron and I were all in agreement – the bike belonged to Trevan. Kyle said, “Let’s get the word out to the folks who might know Trevan. The bike is his. It is a gift.”
Everyday in our community we join those countless saints around the world who pray together, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” Discussing Jesus’ pronouncement of Jubilee, John Howard Yoder comments on this line of the Lords’ prayer: “[It] signifies precisely a monetary debt, in the most material sense of the term. In the ‘Our Father,’ then, Jesus is not simply recommending vaguely that we might pardon those who have bothered us or made us trouble, but tells us purely and simply to erase the debts of those who owe us money; that is to say, practice the Jubilee.” (Yoder 62) Since our master is so willing to forgive our every debt, how can we be unwilling to forgive the debts of our brothers, so small in comparison?
This is especially true when we realize that we are loved more than the lilies and the birds, for whom God never fails to provide. We are no longer obligated to fight for our rights, possessions, or security. Understanding and trusting in Jehovah Jireh, our provider, allows us to live with open hands, ready to receive gifts from the Lord but just as ready to lose anything, even our very lives, in order to spread God’s kingdom in this world. This unclenching of our fists is one of the hardest tasks for disciples of Jesus. I confess, my own hands still spend as much time clenched in jealousy, greed, and possessiveness as they do open in selfless love and trust.
The task is essential though. The beautiful community of the Kingdom cannot come until we refuse, no matter the cost, to allow our brother to be our debtor. We must consider the lilies and the sparrows. We must consider just whom it is that Jesus calls blessed. We must consider the nature of our God as provider. We must decide which is more important, our mission or our property. We must take Jesus at his word. We must abandon our illusions of security and wealth, forgive those who owe us just as God has forgiven us, and overcome evil with good.
I have not seen Trevan in a while, but from what I hear, this Valjean’s soul has by no means been withdrawn from “black thoughts and the spirit of perdition.” We have become good friends with his cousin John though. We have been discipling John for almost a year now. He comes from the same background as Trevan. They have both been gangbanging since their early high school years. Although he has never been very wealthy, material success is the end all be all in John’s mind. Of all those subversive Kingdom concepts we have discussed, the idea that one might abandon wealth and security in order to show love and acceptance to a brother or sister has been the most difficult for him to swallow (as it is for so many). Every so often, we will be talking about the Sermon on the Mount, and his eyes will light up with clarity, as if the Spirit were opening his fuse box and flipping the breaker. We might read, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven” or “Seek first the kingdom of heaven, and all these things shall be added as well;” and as we talk about the very difficult implications of these teachings for his life and ours – and for the life of the church – he will laugh and say, “Oh! That’s like the bike, huh?”
“Yeah, man. It’s like the bike.”
