Enemies

The Church of Us vs. Them: Freedom from a Faith That Feeds on Making Enemies, David E. Fitch. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2019.

Summary: Discusses the roots of a church of us versus them and proposes a vision of the church as a space beyond making enemies.

Even though there are serious signs that American churches are experiencing significant losses of numbers and cultural influence, Christians are hanging onto habits of a posture of “us versus them” developed during a time of greater cultural ascendancy. So contends pastor David E. Fitch, who believes it is a matter of urgent concern that the church move to a space beyond us versus them to one that refuses to make enemies.

Fitch explores the factors that contribute to enemy making. He observes how distinctives of belief and behavior can develop a life of their own becoming the litmus test of who is one of “us” and who is one of “them.” Eventually the distinctives can become banners, often devoid of the content that originally shaped them, but that defines the divide between friends and enemies. Often, these divides both feed on fear and make us feel better about ourselves.

Fitch explores three distinctive banners of evangelical faith. One is the banner of the “inerrant Bible” and the idea of being a “biblical” Christian, language invoked for whatever position one wishes to uphold with a smattering of scripture. This language is used in a way that exercises power over, and excludes people. Fitch proposes instead that when we move to a space beyond making enemies, the Bible is the story of the Grand Drama of God. We do not use the Bible to win arguments and fight for a “position” but to hear and extend an invitation for all to enter into that Great Drama. We do not assume we possess “inerrant truth” but continue to listen humbly to each other as we search the text of scripture to understand our part in the drama.

The second distinctive banner is that of “the decision.” Perhaps nothing better defines who is “in” and who is “out” than the “decision” for Christ. Sadly, so many of those who wave this banner fail to go on to a life of vibrant discipleship following Jesus, and often have no difficulty justifying the compatibility of immoral behavior with being “saved” because they have made “the decision.” Instead Fitch argues for a vision of conversion beyond us versus them, as participation over a lifetime in a faithful life of repentance and surrender to Christ, characterized both by forgiveness and personal holiness, and a commitment to extending Christ’s healing and salvation into every aspect of the world’s need. While such a conversion doesn’t make enemies in its invitation to all to follow Christ, it exposes those who make themselves the enemies of Christ by refusing his gracious rule.

The third banner is the church that seeks to make America Christian again and seeks to do so aligned with the politics of the right (Jerry Falwell) or the left (Jim Wallis). Instead, he contends for the church as its own political structure, “a demonstration plot of the Kingdom.” Fitch writes:

All this means that the difference between Christians and the world is not a spatial one, it’s an eschatological one. It’s not an us-vs-them difference. It’s a matter of timing. There are not two spaces: the space of the ones who are “in” and the ones who are “out.” Rather, the church is already where the world is heading; the world just doesn’t know it yet. We are living in the kingdom ahead of time. We are the first fruits of a harvest that shall be fully gathered in the future. We are against no one. Despite appearances, the world is not our enemy. We are just ahead of them. The church is the space beyond enemies, the church beyond us vs. them.

He closes by talking about the way Jesus addressed controversy by confounding the enemy-making tendency of people, supremely demonstrated with the woman caught in adultery. Jesus responds in silence, writing in the sand, and then bids those without sin to go ahead and stone her. He refuses to condemn her and restores her while extending the true sense of the law into her life as he pronounces her both forgiven and urges her to no longer choose sin in her life. He then asks if we will be the presence of Jesus in the world in how we engage the Bible, how we practice conversion and mission, and how we live as the church in the world.

I’m not sure if Fitch explains to my satisfaction why we feel so compelled to make enemies, which is not merely a Christian but rather a human behavior. What he does do well is explain the dynamics of how this has worked itself out among evangelical Christians. He also offers a compelling vision of a space beyond us versus them, not a space of compromise, but something different altogether, caught up in God’s Grand Drama. I suspect there are some still enamored of fighting battles against “them” and seeing the world in terms of friends and enemies (and we can never be quite sure of our friends). But I also suspect that there others who are tired of “othering” both inside and outside the church. They want to choose love rather than fear; the open arms of embrace rather than the closed fists of a fight. For these, Fitch offers a vision of the church as a place where that can begin to happen.

________________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: Thanks, Brazos Press, for the chance to read an advanced reading copy of this forthcoming book. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

Christ on the cross, Diego Velazquez, 1632

“And Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ And they cast lots to divide his garments.” Luke 23:34, ESV

He was betrayed into the hands of his enemies by one he had allowed into his inner circle, one who, even at the last, he singled out for favor in offering bread. The religious teachers he had met over table fellowship and openly debated, indicted him in a twilight trial that made a mockery of even their idea of due process. A brutal Roman governor caved to political pressure, sentencing him to death. He was mocked, spit on, crowned with thorns, and brutally flagellated, where his back was turned into hamburger (Mel Gibson’s The Passion was no exaggeration of the brutality he endured). He was forced to carry a heavy cross piece to the place of his execution, weakened though he was. He was stripped of clothing, utterly humiliated. Nails were driven into wrists and ankles. What was brutal about crucifixion was that the way one hung made it difficult to breath. To get a good breath mean raising oneself against the spikes through one’s ankles and wrists.

Crucifixion was a political act to terrorize subject populations. Words alone struggle to capture the brutality of all that Jesus underwent. So many kinds of human evil from betrayal to cowardice, to cravenness, to banal delight in torment, to the executioner’s efficiency come together in the last twenty-four hours before the death on a Friday afternoon.

And then the prayer pleading for their forgiveness. We may wrap this up in our atonement theology that Christ died that all may have the possibility of forgiveness, which is utterly, and unbelievably true, as I read it. But to say these words in the midst of such agony, in the face of such brutality and mockery, injustice and betrayal, when to all appearances the people who put Jesus to death knew very well what they were doing, were utterly culpable for their acts–this staggers my imagination.

Yet isn’t this how it is with all the evil we and others do? We know what we are doing, and yet we don’t fully grasp what we are caught up in, whether it is the web of our own hidden motivations and fears, or the external natural and supernatural powers of evil into which our acts play.

Those who follow Christ believe the dying act of forgiveness indeed broke the power of evil, a power that exacts a punishment or a vengeance for every wrong. The Forgiving One in word and act takes punishment and vengeance upon himself and bears it to death.

Do we believe the word of forgiveness and “they know not what they do” for the ISIS bombers in Ankara and Brussels and their compatriots who even now are likely plotting further evil? Do we believe the word of forgiveness for those closer to home who may have deeply hurt us? Do we believe the word of forgiveness for ourselves, who in our most honest moments wish we could erase many deeds from the record of our lives, and perhaps have done more ill than we know?

The forgiveness of enemies is hard. None of this mitigates efforts to prevent someone from causing further harm. Nor is forgiveness the same as reconciliation which involves a truthful and genuine admission of wrongdoing. Forgiveness is hard because it means bearing the wrong done against me on myself and putting it away, dying to the option of obtaining either judgment or vengeance against the other. Forgiving ourselves is hard because it means giving up on either justifying ourselves, or trying to pay back what can’t be repaid, to undo what can’t be undone.

For Christ followers, forgiveness has been done before us, for us, and in us. And the Christ who died and rose wants to forgive through us. The scriptures tell us that we have a choice between living in a forgiveness world and a world of vengeance and punishment. The world we choose for our enemies is the world we choose for ourselves as well. I know the choice isn’t easy. Perhaps all we can do at times is acknowledge the challenge and ask to be helped to begin on the road to forgiveness, and even to the love of our enemies. A former colleague of mine just posted an article that included this prayer from the Book of Common Prayer that may help us take the first step on the road:

O God, the Father of all, whose Son commanded us to love our enemies: Lead them and us from prejudice to truth: deliver them and us from hatred, cruelty, and revenge; and in your good time enable us all to stand reconciled before you; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Perhaps there is no better day than today to begin praying that prayer.