Since I moved to Tennessee, one of the most obvious changes in my life has been a greatly increased interest in and appreciation of firearms.  I think that they’re valuable for any number of uses, from hunting to self-defense.

What’s more, I believe that it’s lawful for a Christian to use a firearm to defend innocent life, whether his own or someone else’s, from the lawless.  I argue here that Jesus’ commandment to turn the other cheek should be read in a context of refusing to resist governmental oppression from the Romans.  Nothing in Scripture prevents a disciple from using weapons for protection from criminals. 

However, this argument has consequences, and it particularly has consequences for our views of whether American Christians have the right to take up arms against an oppressive and tyrannical government.  At least some of the Founding Fathers (most notably Thomas Jefferson) would have argued that we do.  In this case, though, it is the word of God, not the views of the Founders, that must guide our behavior.

Most Christians who have thought about the subject recognize that Romans 13:1-7 is the most relevant text here.  On their face, Paul’s words appear straightforward.  Christians are to submit to the government, full stop.  However, I have heard brethren argue that in the case of the United States, the Constitution, particularly the Second Amendment, is the true government.  Thus, Christians can “obey the government” by asserting their Second-Amendment rights against the villains in Washington who want to take away their guns.

There are two problems with this claim.  First, according to constitutional theory, the sovereign of the United States is not the Constitution.  It is the people.  The Constitution is merely an expression of the will of the people, as are the various officials elected and appointed under the Constitution’s terms.  Yes, there are checks and balances built into the Constitution to protect the minority from the majority, but if the people decide that the Second Amendment refers to the National Guard, or that it should be written out of the Constitution altogether, that is the right of the sovereign.

Second, and more tellingly, the Constitution doesn’t fit the definition of “the governing authorities” in Romans 13.  In Romans 13, the government brings wrath on those who practice evil.  It collects taxes.  It demands obedience from its subjects.  The Constitution does none of those things, so it doesn’t make sense to apply Romans 13 to the Constitution.  Instead, the clear modern analogue of the Romans 13 government is. . . our federal, state, and local governments—all those who make, carry out, and interpret the law of the land.  If they say, “Give us your guns!” and we say, “No!”, we are resisting the lawful, God-established government.

Some might argue that Romans 13 does not require Christians to submit to tyranny, but according to our definitions, all the governments of the New Testament were tyrannical.  They beat, imprisoned, and even executed the innocent without a fair trial.  They imposed taxes to which the taxed had not agreed.  The Roman Empire ruled by the swords of the legions, not the consent of the governed.

Oppressive?  Yes.  Unjust?  Yes.  The government to which first-century Christians were to submit?  Also yes.  Indeed, one of the great overlooked themes of the gospels is Jesus’ desperate attempt to persuade the Jews not to take up arms against Rome.  Christians may sometimes be forced to obey God rather than men, but they are not to be the architects of civil disorder.

I sympathize with the Christians who want to hold on to their guns, no matter what.  I think it’s good public policy for them to be allowed to do so, and it accords with the priority that God’s word places on protecting the vulnerable and weak.  When my daughter moves out of my home, I want her to take with her a firearm that she knows how to use, so that she can defend herself in the hour of desperate need. 

However, our hope is not and must not be founded on these things.  If we are blessed with the opportunity to live under a just and well-ordered government, we ought to be thankful.  If we are not, we must remember that God, not ourselves, is our ultimate hope for justice.  If we assert our rights at the expense of honoring Him, we will have made a bad bargain. 

The other Sunday, I was approached by one of the younger sisters at church.  She had a couple of questions.  They involved hypotheticals that many of us have encountered before.  What about the tribesman in the Amazon jungle who never gets to hear about the gospel?  What about the man who is on his way to be baptized when he gets in a car wreck and dies? 

I gave her my usual answer about not letting hypotheticals and things that happen to somebody else distract us from what we should do, but she didn’t seem satisfied with that, so I promised her I’d consider the subject further.  True to my word, I gnawed on the questions until my subconscious bit off something. 

Eventually, I saw that even though these two questions are aimed at different doctrinal positions (the necessity of the gospel versus the necessity of baptism), they both operate the same way.  Both are an appeal to our sense of fairness.  We intuit that if somebody dies without having heard the gospel and goes to hell as a result, it’s unfair.  If somebody sincerely intended to be baptized but dies before being able to and goes to hell as a result, it’s unfair.

The problem, though, is not with the doctrine in question.  It’s with our intuition.  “Fair”, after all, is a dressed-down synonym for “just”.  We feel that it is unjust for God to punish the sinner who never heard or to punish the penitent sinner who never managed to make it to the baptistery.  However, we need to be suspicious of that feeling.  Not only is it incorrect, it is ultimately fatal to the Christian system of faith.

Let me explain.  Neither in Hypothetical 1 nor Hypothetical 2 is a sinner being unjustly condemned.  God gave both of them the same things He gives all of us:  life, free will, ample evidence of His existence, and a sense of right and wrong.  Despite these gifts, the people in both hypotheticals chose to sin. 

According to the first three chapters of Romans, such sin incurs the wrath of God, and it does so justly.  As Paul puts it in Romans 6:23, the wages of sin is death.  It is just for such people to spend eternity separated from Him, as it would be just for all of us to spend eternity separated from Him.  That is what we all deserve.

However, in the case of Christians, God has chosen to be merciful.  He showed us mercy in two ways:  in sending His Son to die in our place, and in giving us the opportunity to hear and obey the gospel.  None of us are entitled to His mercy.  It is utterly and completely undeserved.

As a result, neither of our sinners has any standing to complain that God has been unfair to them.  They don’t have any right to expect His mercy.  They are entitled to His justice, and God will be scrupulously fair to them as He is to everyone.  They could have chosen to do right, they had all the information they needed to make that choice, but they chose evil instead.  They will be judged accordingly. 

If this is not true, if sin does not invite the just judgment of God, God does not have the right to judge any sinner.  Any attempt to preserve His right to judge anyone will devolve into a standardless exercise in line-drawing.  If the one who never has heard is entitled to mercy, what about the one who heard an incompetent preacher?  If the one who dies on the way to the church house is entitled to mercy, what about the one who dies on the way to a Bible study that would have convicted him?  The more these questions unfold, the more obvious it becomes that our cheap sympathy for sinners (as opposed to Christ’s precious sacrifice) has overwhelmed God’s right to judge righteously.

There is no partiality with God.  This is my chief objection to Calvinism.  How can it be just for God to condemn an unbaptized infant who has done neither good nor evil, simply because of who their ultimate ancestor was?

However, God’s impartiality is a knife that cuts both ways.  If God is just in condemning sinners, He must be just in condemning all sinners.  Only the death of Christ and the faith of those who trust in Him allow God to do anything else.

In response to my post about thanksgiving in the midst of a racism crisis, I received a very interesting question.  I had said that I was thankful for all of the brethren who respond to a thoughtless comment from a brother with a thin-lipped smile instead of an explosion of anger.  Consequently, a sister asked when it’s appropriate to trot out that thin-lipped smile, and when it’s appropriate to speak up about the heart issue behind the thoughtless comment.

Predictably, I will open my reply with a great big, “It depends!”  After all, the principle underlying Colossians 4:5-6 is that our speech should be situation- and hearer-dependent.  There are many factors that can figure into our analysis, but here are three that I think are particularly relevant:

First, we should consider the importance of the issue.  How likely is it that someone’s convictions and behavior in a particular area will affect their eternal salvation?  For instance, in my time, I have run into Christians who have the bad taste to be fans of University of Kansas athletics.  As all right-thinking people do, I regard Jayhawk sports with revulsion and disgust.  However, I also know that if God will show mercy to me, He will show mercy to those who root for the Technicolor Chickens.  As a result, though I will harass such people mercilessly once I find them out, we’re not going to have a serious sit-down conversation about their college-athletics allegiance.

On the other extreme, there are a number of things about which the Bible says, “If you do this, you won’t inherit the kingdom of God.”  If somebody’s wrong about one of those things, their souls are in terrible danger.  That points strongly toward, “Have the conversation.”

Second, we should consider how likely we ourselves are to be wrong.  Does the Bible speak directly to this issue, or am I required to reason from the Scriptures to reach my conclusion?  The more I must reason, the more likely it becomes that I have made a misstep along the way.

For instance, it doesn’t take much reasoning to arrive at the conclusion that racism is wrong.  No, the Bible doesn’t say so directly, but it does say that all of us are created in the image of God and that people from all different races can become one in Christ Jesus.  It’s simple to conclude that racism is an affront to the reconciling work of Christ.

By contrast, the pro-racism arguments from the Bible are weak and strained.  Yes, Noah did curse Ham, but a) the evidence that “Ham” means “black” or “burnt” is sketchy, and b) at this point, it’s impossible to tell who is a descendant of Ham and who isn’t.  After thousands of years of interbreeding, all of us may be.  The leap from Genesis 9 to “We get to subjugate and oppress black people!” is long and perilous.  That hasn’t kept people from making the argument, but it probably should have.

Third, we should ask how likely our words are to persuade.  How certain is our hearer that we love them?  How much do they love and trust us?  How difficult are they likely to find the discussion?  Are we confronting them publicly, or are we speaking with them in private?  All these factors, and many more, will affect the reception of our words.

Sometimes, we might need to have that conversation no matter what.  I doubt Jesus was under any illusions about whether His words in Matthew 23 were going to persuade the Pharisees to repent.  However, much like an imprecatory prayer, a burn-you conversation is a fraught step!  You’d better be real sure it’s important, real sure that you’re right, and real sure that some other good will come from speaking up.  Generally, I prefer to pick my spots, to wait for a time when I think my words will be illuminating rather than infuriating.

These are spiritually oppressive days.  The coronavirus is oppressive, the George Floyd killing and its fallout are oppressive, and the online quarrelling between brethren over these issues is oppressive.  All these things combine to paint a grim picture of our spiritual reality. 

However, I don’t think that this picture is accurate.  Nothing about God’s people and His church has been fundamentally altered.  The storm may be raging, but the houses with foundations continue to stand.  We are not a perfect people, but we do diligently seek the Lord, and for those with eyes to see, the search is so, so evident.  I am thankful for everyone who is engaged in it.  In particular:

I am thankful for every Christian and every church that strives for unity in the face of racial and political difference.  We are not all the same, and if that changes in the future, something horrible has happened.  We do not all see things the same way, and that is unlikely ever to change! 

Nonetheless, we work to be one in Christ Jesus.  We carefully, awkwardly reach out to those of different races.  We make allowances for differences in upbringing and experience that lead to different perspectives.  When a brother or sister makes a thoughtless comment, we smile with thin lips instead of exploding in outrage. 

Unity is not an accident.  It is the product of constant, patient effort.  I am thankful for everyone who makes the effort.

I am thankful for my black brothers and sisters.  Though I try to empathize, I know I never will be able to see the world through your eyes.  When I say the wrong thing, it’s because of my imperfect understanding, not evil intent. 

Nonetheless, I don’t have any trouble seeing Christ in you.  I see your anger and your pain, but I know that Christ was angry.  I know that Christ suffered when He saw injustice.  I rejoice when you rise above those who hold you in contempt, when, rather than returning evil for evil, you speak truth in love.  By your godliness and self-control, you put your enemies to shame.

I am thankful for my black brethren who are church leaders.  You are among the best of us, and in many cases, your example is one I honor and strive to imitate.  The work that you do as preachers, elders, and deacons brings glory to God, and your dignified, humble service powerfully rebuts the lies of racism.  May your hands and your hearts always be strengthened for the labor you do for God!

I am thankful for the white brethren who serve as adoptive and foster parents for children who are black and brown.  You know as well as anybody that love isn’t color-blind, that love sees color, because love has to see color.  You also know, though, that color is no barrier to love.  In many cases, you have taken heavy burdens upon yourselves because of love, and though your struggles and suffering often are known to no one but God, they still glorify Him.  White sisters, every time you go out in public with a child of color and somebody sneers at you, remember that fools sneered at Christ too.  As you despise the shame, you walk in His footsteps.

Most of all, I am thankful for the love of the God who has called us and bound us together.  By nature, we are children of wrath, hateful and hating one another, and yet He had compassion on us and showed us mercy through His Son.  As we seek to be transformed into His image, may His compassion and His love be our guiding star, imperfectly seen, even more imperfectly followed, yet always present.  As we despair of ever perfecting ourselves, let us repose our hope in the One who fully is able to perfect us.

Just when we thought that racist behavior couldn’t get any more indefensible and awful than the Ahmaud Arbery shooting, along comes the George Floyd suffocation.  The image of a uniformed police officer kneeling on the neck of a compliant Floyd who is pleading for air is among the most horrible I’ve ever seen.  I can’t bring myself to watch the video, even though I can claim no closer kinship to Floyd than being the fellow bearer of an immortal soul.

In the face of such a stark symbol of human hatred, I completely understand why black people all over the country have taken to the streets, crying for justice.  Though I cannot condone it, I even understand the behavior of those whose rage and pain has led them to loot, burn, and destroy.  Surely something must be done in response to such monstrous evil!  If there is anything in this tragedy that I don’t understand, it is how one human being can literally crush the life from another while listening to his pleas for mercy.

However, as comprehensible as the actions of the rioters are, I only can see them as fundamentally misguided.  It may be satisfying to destroy the business of some shopkeeper who had nothing to do with the Floyd killing, may well be committed to racial equality, and might even be black themselves, but doing so does nothing to advance justice for anybody.  In fact, it only makes the world more evil and less just.  People who feel like they have to do something are doing the wrong thing.

I worry too that the feeling that we have to do something is a trap for the rest of us.  In its infinite wisdom, the online mediasphere has concluded that all of us need to take a stand against systemic racism, but the problem is that there don’t seem to be any systemic solutions available.  The state of Minnesota already has laws on the books prohibiting murder.  I’m sure that the handbook for the Minneapolis police department emphasizes that officers must treat all people equally and fairly.  I’m sure they undergo sensitivity training on a regular basis. I’m sure they’ve been told that they must intervene whenever they see a fellow officer abusing someone.

And yet, one police officer killed a man who was no threat to him while three others watched.  Write the laws how you will; until the hearts of people like that change, nothing will change.  After all, if the Pharisees successfully subverted even the law of God, I am confident that those who are so minded will be able to subvert and defeat the intent of any mere human law.

This takes us, then, to Christ.  He has the power to transform the most corrupt and hateful heart if it will submit to Him.  When it comes to racism, meaningful change is possible only through the gospel, one conversion at a time.

Some say that’s not good enough.  We can’t wait for the slow work of the word; we have to take action now!  However, those apparently quick, easy solutions tend to have coercion behind them.  If others do not want to be righteous, we must make them be righteous.

Sadly, the more we use force to fight against racism, the more it will flourish.  Even now, racists across the nation are watching looting videos and nodding self-righteously, confirmed in their belief that black people are little more than animals.  If the government seeks to compel heart change, it will create martyrs for a cause unworthy of them.

The work of persuading others to God is like planting a white-oak sapling in your front yard.  Change is always slow, sometimes imperceptible.  As the years go by, the apparent lack of progress will be frustrating.  However, if we are patient and do not lose heart, it will produce the result that we desire to see.