On Calling Fire From Heaven

Watching the videos of the assault on the US Capitol, January 6, 2021, makes my stomach churn. There is no question the attempt to subvert the centerpiece of our democracy is part of my reaction. I am dismayed by the disturbing images of Capitol police being brutalized, the obvious fear in the faces of our elected leaders, the horrifying rage exhibited by the insurrectionists themselves, and, of course, the nauseating thought of the complicity of then President Trump and his allies in Congress and the media.

But what disheartens me most is the prevalence of Christian symbols, rhetoric, and slogans that accompanied the violent seditionists. How in the world was Jesus dragged into this horrific terrorist attack?

I guess it shouldn’t come as a complete surprise. Religious violence is nothing new. It would seem most religious groups have events in their past they would rather ignore. While in the United States we are very aware of Islamic terrorism, other types of religious violence could also be cited.

For example, we may also know a little about Hindu attacks on Muslims in India. Or perhaps we are aware of the treatment of the Ruhingya Muslims by the Buddhist majority in Myanmar and the Uyghur Muslims by the Han Chinese. Perhaps you also know the some of the nationalistic religious views that launched the Japanese into WWII and splintered the Balkans in the last century.

So-called Christians have not stayed above the fray. I wish I could say those who claimed the name of Christ were only the victims in conflicts but that would not be true. The name of God’s Son has a long history of being connected with the violence of conquest. Ever since the Emperor Constantine painted a Christian symbol on shields in preparation for the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312 CE, this religious group has used the sword far too frequently.

Additionally, though adherents to other religions have often been the target, arms have regularly been raised against fellow believers. Donatists have killed those who lapsed. Arians have attacked Athanasians. Catholics have fought Orthodox. Protestants have slaughtered Anabaptists. It would almost seem that violent aggression has been more normative for Christians than has peace.

But hopefully, you and I see a different Jesus when we read Scripture. Sure, we may at times reflect on the conquering Christ of John’s Apocalyse, mounted on a white steed, robe dipped in blood, leading the hosts of Heaven (Revelation 19:11-16). But this Christ, who comes to initiate His final rule, fills a role we who follow Him will welcome, but are not called to emulate.

Instead, our role, given to us by Christ prior to His death, was to imitate the one who came not to judge/condemn the world but to save it (John 3:17). Jesus came to bring healing (Matthew 9:12-13), peace (John 14:27), service (Matthew 20:28), and, most of all, love (John 13:35).

Now I have to ask, what do violence, conflict, and the acquisition of power have to do with those things? I really don’t see much overlap.

True, political leaders can have substantial power and still bring healing, peace, service, and love to their tasks. After all, we do call them “civil servants.” But when Jesus was tempted several times to achieve his goals through political might and power, he refused that option. (cf. Matthew 4:1-11; 16:21-23; 26:53).

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus and his disciples are making their way to Jerusalem. They decide to stop at a Samaritan village for the night. But the towns people don’t like outsiders like them and refuse to let them stay. James and John are indignant. Don’t these Samaritans know who we are? Don’t they realize that they are rejecting a visit from God himself? Who do they think they are?

Then James and John have an idea. “We have the very Son of God here on our side. Why don’t we just call down fire from heaven like Elijah did” (2 Kings 1). Note Jesus’ response. He didn’t just say, “I don’t think that’s a great idea right now. Maybe later.” He didn’t suggest another way of getting back at them. No. What did He say?

“Jesus turned and rebuked them!” (Luke 9:55)

No debate. No discussion. No quibbling. Just a straightforward rebuke. Then they went on to the next town.

Throughout the gospels, we see the Son of God willing to be rejected, persecuted, beaten, and ultimately brutally murdered without any attempt to push back. Yet ultimately, the whole world will fall at His feet. The suffering servant becomes the conqueroring king. The measure of a true follower of Christ is the extent we emulate the Master.

By their fruit you shall know them! (Matthew 7:16-19)