Dr. King hits the nail on the head as far as I am concerned with this moving sermon on the war in Vietnam.

Arise, then, women of this day!

Arise, all women who have hearts,
Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:
“We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says: “Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.”
Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

I’ve seen too much hate to want to hate, myself, and every time I see it, I say to myself, hate is too great a burden to bear. Somehow we must be able to stand up against our most bitter opponents and say:”We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We will meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will and we will still love you. We cannot in all good conscience obey your unjust laws and abide by the unjust system, because non-cooperation with evil is as much a moral obligation as is cooperation with good, so throw us in jail and we will still love you. Bomb our homes and threaten our children, and, as difficult as it is, we will still love you. Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our communities at the midnight hour and drag us out on some wayside road and leave us half-dead as you beat us, and we will still love you. Send your propaganda agents around the country and make it appear that we are not fit, culturally and otherwise, for integration, but we’ll still love you. But be assured that we’ll wear you down by our capacity to suffer, and one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves; we will appeal to your heart and conscience that we will win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.

Doesn’t the fact that soldiers in the New Testament are never expressly told to leave the military damage your peace position? Shouldn’t this be taken as an indication that it may be allowed to be a “Christian” soldier? Many try to make this point but I believe it’s wrong for two reasons:

1. This is an argument from silence. Actually in these passages neither Jesus nor any apostle either condemn or endorse military participation. They aren’t advised to be born again either for that matter. Is being born again also not required for soldiers? In a similar instance, Simon the sorcerer isn’t told to stop practicing sorcery in Acts 8. Is sorcery allowed too? (if not specifically forbidden?) If failure to mention a sin condones it, then slavery is now okay. Nowhere in the New Testament is there a command, “Thou shalt not have slaves.” Silence in this case is simply silence and proves nothing.

2. If we rightly conclude that “Do unto others…” discourages slavery, then doesn’t “love your enemies” put military service in a negative light? Isn’t it self-evident that if all men must love their enemies and do no harm (Romans 13.10), then military participation is impossible?

We might put the problem this way: the Constantinian cataract results from a very basic case of false identity. The cataract not only clouds our vision, but psychologically and culturally shapes our understanding of our most basic identity. While biblically informed discipleship requires us to give ourselves in absolute allegiance to the kingdom of God, the Constantinian cataract threatens the purity of that allegiance by mixing it with an allegiance to the empire or nation-state. Or, perhaps more accurately, we begin to believe that a pursuit of the agenda of the empire or nation-state may be placed comfortably alongside our pursuit of the kingdom of God, even though the ends and goals of the kingdom of God and the kingdom of this world are clearly different, and clearly at odds with one another.

Consider a thought experiment in order to get at the difficulty. Using contemporary garb, a key question might be put this way: do we American Christians see ourselves as American Christians, or as American Christians? Do we fundamentally envision ourselves as U.S. citizens who espouse the “Christian religion,” or as disciples of Jesus who happen to live in the United States? What is our fundamental identity? Citizens of our nation-state, or citizens of the kingdom of God?

Most Christians, one might conjecture, would immediately respond that our first allegiance is undoubtedly to the kingdom of God. But our debates often appear to assume that the fundamental identity, the primary lens through which we must make decisions about how to act in our world, it that of the nation-state. One might find ample evidence that we do envision our primary identity in terms of the nation-state by simply examining the question we often ask: “What should we do about terrorism?” The we in that question is most often, one may safely assume, the United States. “What should we do about Saddam Hussein?” “What should we do about inner-city poverty?” “What should we do about homelessness?” “What should we do about the threat of nuclear war?” “What should we do about peace in the Middle East?” “What should we do about welfare?” “What should we do about abortion?” And so the questions go, always assuming that the all-important we is the nation-state.

Consequently, discipleship—defined as taking seriously the way of Christ in all our affairs and concerns—gets shelved as irrelevant to the real concerns of the world. But what might happen if we took such questions seriously from a biblical viewpoint? For instance, what should we, as disciples of Jesus, do about homelessness? What should we, as the body of Christ, do about the threat of nuclear war? What should the church do about Saddam Hussein? What should we believers do about peace in the Middle East? What should we who bear the name of Jesus do about inner-city poverty and the plight of single mothers? What should we followers of the Way do about abortion?

Does the word of God incarnate in Jesus Christ not have something to say to the injustices and oppression of our world?—or are the people of God simply to accept the claim that the only appropriate response to injustice is the ethic of nations, the ethic of power checking power? Christians appear often to assume that to make significant cultural change we must approach change from the “top down”—that until we can get those who hold the mantle of power to use that power to bring about change, there can be no real change. But Jesus taught and practiced something quite different: “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all” (Mark 10:42-44). That is, Jesus called his disciples not to get hold of empire power—this is precisely what some of his disciples wanted, to get hold of the rein of command, and use it on behalf of the good guys, on behalf of righteousness, justice, and God’s purposes. Instead, he called them to an altogether different route of bringing about the radical change of the kingdom of God—that of servant

But since the time of the Reformation, it has been assumed that “religion” is “private,” and that matters of the “state” are “public.” Or, to put it differently, it begins to be assumed that the church worries about souls, and the state worries about bodies. This “privatization of religion,” this move to make religion a “private” matter, results in a profound change of thought: when we ask the “What are we going to do about…” question, we of course assume that the we is the nation or government, because we have long been trained to think of the church as having no social or political significance. To ask, “What are we Christians going to do about terrorism?” sounds ludicrous!—Nothing! That’s the government’s job.
…
So “What are we going to do?” Respond with the way of Christ. The world may think that way irrelevant, even foolish. But what the world takes as foolish is actually the wisdom of God and the only hope for the world. We do not need more “effective” kingdoms of men; we do not need more “responsible” kingdoms of this world; we do not need more “realism” among the kingdoms of a fallen order. We need the kingdom of God.

Great Sun of glory, rise and shine,
Dispel the gloom of night;
Let the foul spirits stretch their wings,
And fly before thy light.

Rebuke the nations, stop their rage,
Destroy the warrior’s skill,
Hush all the tumults of the earth;
O speak! Say, “Peace, be still.”

Break, break the cruel warrior’s sword,
Asunder cut his bow,
Command him by thy sovereign word
To let the captives go.

No more let heroes’ glory sound,
No more their triumphs tell,
Bring all the pride of nations down –
Let war return to hell.

Then let thy blessed kingdom come,
With all its heavenly train,
And pour thy peaceful spirit down,
Like gentle showers of rain.

Then shall the prowling beasts of prey,
Like lambs be meek and mild;
Vipers and asps shall harmless twine
Around the weaned child.

The happy sons of Zion sit
Secure beneath their vines;
Or, shadowed by their fig-tree’s tops,
Shall drink their cheering wines.

The nations to thy scepter bow,
And own “thy gentle sway”;
Then all the wandering tribes of men
To thee their tribute pay.

Angelic hosts shall view the scene,
Delighted, spread their wings;
Down to the earth again they fly,
And strike their lofty strings.

The listening nations catch the sound,
And join the heavenly choir,
To swell aloud the song of praise,
And vie with sacred fire.

“Glory to God on high!” they sound,
In strains of angels’ mirth;
“Good will and peace” to men,they sing,
Since heaven is brought to earth.

What to Do with Kings Gone Wild?

excommunicate (eks-kuh-myoo-ni-keyt), v.
“to exclude a baptized Christian from taking part in communion because of doctrine or moral behavior that is adjudged to offend against God or the Christian community”

…Since one of the most precious treasures of the church is the gift of community, one of the most powerful disciplines of church is isolation from community, the denial of communion. Excommunication has a harsh ring to it. It conjures up visions of judgmentalism, exclusion, cultlike weirdness, and political incorrectness. It has been deeply distorted and abused in church history (even in recent church history–like when the Baptist congregation in the South tried to excommunicate church members who did not vote for Bush). But compared with preemptive bombings, state-sanctioned execution, and sending folks into lifelong exile in places where they’ll die alone, the church’s most extreme act of discipline–excommunication–seems quite tame and reasonable, even redemptive when properly understood. The need for some sort of restorative justice is particularly urgent when we consider the scandalous sins of leaders within the church in both recent and ancient history. This era of sloppy Christianity and timid politeness demands that we rediscover this hidden treasure, which has led to the restoration of even the worst backslider, the most dangerous heretic, or the most influential hypocrite who might otherwise threaten the health of Christ’s body in this world.

In 389 there was an uprising in Thessalonika that resulted in the death of the Roman army commander stationed there. Emperor Theodosius a practicing Christian, gave the brutal order for a general retaliation in which seven thousand Thessalonians were herded into the imperial games and slaughtered. Ambrose, who was the bishop of Milan and the emperor’s pastor, wrote a beautiful letter to Theodosius articulating a deep longing for reconcilliation and expressing the firm resolve to exclude him from communion. Ambrose expressed painfully his obligation to excommunicate Theodosius, for to allow him to participate in the liturgy and in communion without reconciliation would be a sign of contempt for God. Ambrose met Theodosius at the door of the church and forbade him to enter, saying, “Submit to the exclusion to which God, the Lord of all, wills to sentence you. God will be your physician, and God will give you health.” The emperor did penance for eight months, then offered a public confession before the people during the Christmas celebration of 390, whereupon he was reconciled to the community with a grand celebration.

One thing that became clear to me (Shane) when I was in Iraq is that what’s at stake today isn’t just America’s visibility and reputation but Christ’s reputation and the identity of the Christian disciple. I hear Iraqi people, even Iraqi Christians, call the leaders of the US “Christian extremists” in the same tone that we hear people in the US talk about “Muslim extremists.” One Iraqi woman said, with tears in her eyes, “Your government is declaring war and asking God’s blessing, and that is the exact same thing that my government is doing. My question is this: what kind of God would allow this?” She found herself quite distant from that God, and she went on to say that she had been to America and met so many beautiful Christians who had an incredible faith, much more healthy and vibrant that what Iraqis saw on the news. She knew that our Christianity has more to offer than the violence they saw, and she ended the conversation longing for that Christianity, saying, “What ever happened to the God of love and the Prince of Peace?”

So the public confrontation of public figures who have visibly misrepresented Jesus is an important practice of our faith. It is a way of saying, “When you do that, it’s not just your reputation that is at stake, but mine…and our God’s.”

Excommunication is never to be imposed on people outside the covenant of Christian faith, and it is never to be used to expose private sins. Scripture gives clear guidelines on how Christians are to restore someone who is living in ways that hurt themselves or others. We are to talk with them one on one. If that doesn’t work, we are to talk with them before a small group of caring friends. If that doesn’t work, we are to bring it before the community of grace to try to figure out how best to love and support the fellow struggler. However, for those in public positions whose acts affect an entire population, their confession and reconciliation should also be made public. More is expected, which is no doubt why Dr. King’s harshest words in his “Letter from the Birmingham Jail” were written to the clergy, of whom he expected much more, and likewise why Jesus reserved language like “brood of vipers” for the religious and political elite, not the folks who were floundering in their brokenness.

The excommunicated have already put themselves outside of the body. Excommunication is less of a forced isolation than a recognition that a member of the church has already isolated themselves from the community; they have stepped outside of the teaching of Christ. If a Quaker joins the army, she’s chosen not to be a Quaker anymore. And of course, in the case of the church, discipline is critical not only to protect the person “in sin” and others from the ill-effects, but also to protect the identity and credibility of the community. The beautiful thing about the church is that we are people of grace, and mercy triumphs over judgment. So excommunication is never the end we hope for.

Excommunication at least temporarily and provisionally makes clear what is and is not the body of Christ. It’s a quarantine of sorts, isolating a part that has grown sick to restore it to health and save the body from infection. This discipline has its roots in Old Testament concepts for maintaining the identity and purity of a people set apart as a visible sign of God’s salvation for the world. It’s helpful to see it as a way to quarantine someone whose unhealthy patterns endanger the health of the larger body, just as Jesus often described sin as an infection or as yeast that leavens the whole batch of dough. But the promise is that we have a Physician.

Repentance and confession safeguard the witness of the church. Paul warns that it is a desecration of the unity of the body when the well-fed come to the communion table with the hungry, or when the tortured and the torturer drink from the same cup. It’s no wonder Jesus prays that we would be one as God is one, right after warning that the world will hate us and the things we stand for.

The Lord’s Teaching to the Heathen by the Twelve Apostles:

1 There are two ways, one of life and one of death; and between the two ways there is a great difference.

2 Now, this is the way of life: “First, you must love God who made you, and second, your neighbor as yourself.” And whatever you want people to refrain from doing to you, you must not do to them.

3 What these maxims teach is this: “Bless those who curse you,” and “pray for your enemies.” Moreover, fast “for those who persecute you.” For “what credit is it to you if you love those who love you? Is that not the way the heathen act?” But “you must love those who hate you,” and then you will make no enemies. 4 “Abstain from carnal passions.” If someone strikes you “on the right cheek, turn to him the other too, and you will be perfect.” If someone “forces you to go one mile with him, go along with him for two”; if someone robs you “of your overcoat, give him your suit as well.” If someone deprives you of “your property, do not ask for it back.” (You could not get it back anyway!)  5 “Give to everybody who begs from you, and ask for no return.” For the Father wants his own gifts to be universally shared. Happy is the man who gives as the commandment bids him, for he is guiltless! But alas for the man who receives! If he receives because he is in need, he will be guiltless. But if he is not in need he will have to stand trial why he received and for what purpose. He will be thrown into prison and have his action investigated; and “he will not get out until he has paid back the last cent.” 6 Indeed, there is a further saying that relates to this: “Let your donation sweat in your hands until you know to whom to give it.”

read the rest of the Didache

The saying that now men of violence take the kingdom of heaven by force (Matt. 11:12; cf. Luke 16:16) has been understood in different ways. Some say that Jesus speaks about this fact disapprovingly; others explain that what is happening has his approval. I do not doubt that the latter view is correct. (That is quite certain as soon as one translates v. 12a not “the kingdom of heaven suffers violence” but “the kingdom of heaven is coming with force.”) Given the context, the other explanation is too complicated. The meaning is that because the kingdom of heaven now breaks in with force one must forcibly take hold of it in order to win it for oneself and not let it go by. There is something warlike in the image but not in the reality.