“Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist
evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?”
(The United Methodist Hymnal, p. 34)
I asked a young couple this question among others as they
brought their infant forward for baptism last Sunday. As I asked it, images of “evil,
injustice, and oppression” flashed across my mind: images of death and
destruction in the streets of Paris, a lifeless toddler lying on a beach in
Turkey, infants held by exhausted and desperate mothers in refugee camps, grimy
children walking the demolished streets of Damascus, and on and on and on.
Do you accept … no, do I accept the freedom and power God
gives … to resist evil … in whatever forms … ?
To resist evil. What does that even mean? And how is it a
“freedom” exactly?
Every member of every United Methodist Church has answered
that question in the affirmative. We had to, in order to become members. And
having answered thusly, now what?
In the simple questions of our church membership, people who
are United Methodist have made a solemn vow, witnessed by God and spoken in the
midst of the people, to resist evil, however it appears in the world.
If the agenda and actions of the Daesh group are not evil,
then I do not know what is. So in the face of such atrocious acts, what does it
mean to “resist” evil?
The word “resist” is from the Latin word resistere, which
meant “to remain standing.” It means to withstand or strive against or oppose.
It means to take a stand against something, to make an effort in opposition.
We use the word frivolously, as in “I just couldn’t resist
eating that delicious cupcake.” But I’m pretty sure the baptismal vows do not
mean it in such a shallow way. The word is also used to described armed
opposition to an occupying force, as in the French resistance to Nazi forces
during the 1930s and 40s. Is that more aligned with what is meant in our United
Methodist question?
The scripture I’m preaching on this week includes the
following advice: “See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek
to do good to one another and to all” (1 Thessalonians 5:15). So whatever
“resist” means, it seems it cannot mean “repay,” and certainly our response to
evil should not involve even more evil. That will get us nowhere fast.
Sometimes, to be honest, I really wish Jesus had included a
few escape clauses in the Gospel. Don’t you? Like wouldn’t it have been great
if he had said, “Hey guys you should welcome strangers and eat with them,
unless of course you think there’s a chance they may hurt you, then you’re
totally fine to just keep them as far away from you as possible.” But he didn’t
say that. And you know why? Because that’s not just. That’s oppressive. That’s
actually kind of evil, in my honest opinion.
We are “to remain standing” in the face of evil, injustice,
and oppression. We are to remain standing in the values of the Gospel, the
doctrines of love and peace and justice and grace and incarnation and
resurrection and everything else that the church is supposed to be about.
Only by “standing” in these places will our response to
Daesh and Boko Haram and al-Qaeda and Al Shabaab be grounded in a faithful
Christian response. But true resistance must be more than metaphor. To truly
resist, we must act.
Only a very few of us who live in the United States can
actually go to the places most impacted by the current violence. But by the
virtue of our amazing democratic system, we have access to the people who can.
We can contact our political leaders and encourage them to stand against evil,
to act for justice, to speak with love and compassion for others.
And by the virtue of our amazing connectional church, we are
a part of an incarnate Christian presence that is already at work all around
the world. We can contribute the United Methodist Committee on Relief, which
has a fund designated specifically for refugee response. The full list of projects
UMCOR does is impressive.
Resisting evil is global, and also very local. We resist
evil every time we take in a foster kid. We resist evil every time we back a
food box for a hungry family. We resist evil every time we confront
discrimination in our community. We resist evil every time we challenge
homophobia and racism and sexism in any of the mealy, insidious forms they show
up around us.
And here’s the thing - this resistance is liberating! God
has offered us both freedom
and power to resist. That
means, quite counter-intuitively, that not resisting is actually captivity.
Going along to get along is a prison. Allowing evil to continue is a chain, a
burden, a weight on our lives that prevents us from becoming who God wants us
to be.
In the act of resistance, we are set free.
And so I return to the question. “Do you accept the freedom
and power to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they
present themselves?” If so, please respond, “I do.”
And if you do, then for God’s sake … do.
1 comment:
Amen, Brother Bryan.
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