If I sound legalistic then I am not making myself clear. I reckon legalism is a form of violence (which is why Jesus often clashed with the Pharisees). If God’s nonviolence is consistent (and I think it is) then we can never require anything of anyone with the threat of violence or sanctions to back it up. God only ever invites, always extending grace. I believe the New Testament teaches that this way eventually wins – people are won over not by force but voluntarily by love – sometimes despite all appearances to the contrary. That said, it is not a passive invitation – God so loved the world that God sent God’s only son, that whoever believes in him may not perish but have unlimited life…

I simply don’t know how you can love someone and kill them or harm them or threaten their wellbeing at the same time. Maybe someone is clever enough to, but I don’t know how.

I’m really not trying to judge anyone for their behaviour, but to encourage us to what I see as the invitation of God to the way of suffering love. I am particularly wary of judging the violence of those who are genuinely persecuted. I’m not a persecuted minority, and while many of us would consider ourselves to be doing it tough we are not in relative world terms. Judging is not my job; faithfulness is.

So I don’t intend to place any kind of legalistic rules in front of people. I seek to encourage us all to live into what I see as the invitation of God to a more difficult but better way.

I know I keep saying this, but nonviolence is not passivity, it IS a form of force (and in infinitely creative one, which requires the ues of wise judgement!). But it’s not a force that needs to beat the enemy into submission, it’s a force that believes the “enemy” is capable of conversion, with an openness to being converted oneself. When you force, you impose your will on someone else against their will. Aren’t you then just mirroring what you oppose? What makes it right when “we” do it, but wrong when “they” do it? That’s why the death penalty is self-contradictory…We kill the perpetrator to show that killing people is wrong. What the?

Most people would say “well they’re guilty and we’re innocent” but that’s certainly not true (and even less so by the time we’re done with a war). As Christians, surely we know that we’ve all sinned, that none of us is innocent? So what makes us think we’re in a position to mete out judgment?

I too believe in a God who interacts with creation in creative and varied ways, but not violent ways. Surely you believe there are some limits to how God acts (you wouldn’t, for example, believe “in the right circumstances” that God would want someone to commit child abuse, or be racist, or any number of other heinous acts). So why draw the line where you do? Seriously, can anyone see Jesus shooting someone? If I could, I could find a justification. But what I see is Jesus consistently stepping into the path of violence (eg woman caught in adultery, the exclusion of women, the poor and sick) and transforming it or taking it into himself. I’m not coming out of an ideology. I’m coming out of the narrative, out of the story of Jesus.

After all Jesus had the perfect opportunity to use force when the soldiers came for him in the garden. Surely if ever there was a `just war’, that moment was it. But he doesn’t.

So the crucifixion for me is the centrepiece of the nonviolence of Christ. Here is a man who would rather be killed than kill others – he could’ve called down legions of angels to defend him, but he doesn’t. This is the closest thing I can think of to a knock down argument (but not legalistic) for universal nonviolence. If this man is God, then this is what God does. This is what God is like. Even more than that, he’s hanging as an innocent man on the cross, being murdered and _he forgives them_. But wait a minute – that’s not justice! That’s not fair! Surely he should’ve defended himself, or if not at least condemned them then and there! When I try these arguments in the face of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, they all fall flat. And so do I in worship and awe of such great love.

So then, as Yoder puts it, “To be a disciple is to share in that style of life of which the cross is the culmination.” Discipleship is cruciform – “whoever would be my disciple must deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me”. So faithfulness means being killed defending the innocent before you’re prepared to kill those you judge to be guilty. As Gandhi said, “This is a cause in which I am prepared to die, but there is no cause for which I am prepared to kill.”

Yoder goes on to say, “Between the absolute agape which lets itself be crucified, and effectiveness (which it is assumed will usually need to be violent), the resurrection forbids us to choose, for in the light of resurrection crucified agape is not folly (as it seems to the Hellenizers to be) and weakness (as the Judaizers believe) but the wisdom and power of God (1 Cor. 1:22-25).”

So to me it’s not that nonviolence is a rule that must be obeyed…it’s the way of life into which we are invited. To me, far from a legalistic stricture it’s the most intensely liberating aspect of God’s nature and my discipleship as a response. I’m unlikely to convince you all with mere words (as Paul puts it “Christ sent me to proclaim the gospel, but not with eloquent wisdom so the cross might not be emptied of its power”), but I hope that perhaps my life might serve to convince some.

grace and peace, Simon