May the Force…uh…Not be with You?

From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force – Matthew 11:12 NRSV

I love Star Wars.  It’s been a part of my life since I was nine.  As a kid, I loved it for the light sabers, lasers, and quirky space characters.  As the years have rolled by, I’ve loved it for its decades’ long exposition of the battle between light and darkness, the downright biblical struggle of ordinary people fighting the forces of empire.  Star Wars has made more than a few appearances in my sermons over the years, and I have often compared the Way of Jesus to the Rebel Alliance. 

But I’m starting to realize I need to be careful there.  The comparison is a good one insofar as it reminds us that in a world full of imperialists, we need rebels to stand up for what’s right and present the option of another way.  But it’s not so good in terms of the way the rebels of Star Wars do that.  The rebels in Star Wars, you see, are violent.  You might say they are ‘forceful.’  The ‘god’ of the Star Wars universe is called, appropriately enough, ‘the Force.’  The rebels use ‘the Force,’ violently, just as they instinctively use other less mystical forms of violence to achieve their ends.  In doing so, they wind up fighting, at least to some degree, on the empire’s terms. 

That seems to work in the Star Wars universe.  But I’m beginning to see that it doesn’t work so well in the real world. 

Let me explain.

The forceful tend to have their way in our world.  Selfish men and women have used their power to construct a society that preserves their interests at the expense of the interests of others.  This typically means that the wealthy, the powerful, and the privileged are the ones who benefit from the way a society is organized.  This is true in all societies, even in supposedly democratic ones.  As a friend commented the other day, when we rail against the violence, corruption, and injustice inherent in our systems, we need to bear in mind that the problem with those systems isn’t that they are broken.  The problem is that they are working fine.  They are achieving exactly what they were designed to do. 

Take the present political scene as an example.  For years, many, myself included, have railed against an administration straight out of the Star Wars universe.  Our Palpatine may have orange hair, and his apprentice may not wear a black helmet, but the similarities are nonetheless present.  Day after day, we ‘rebels’ have imagined ourselves following in the footsteps of our Star Wars heroes, battling an administration that is undermining democratic principles and thrusting the nation in the direction of dictatorship.  Our tactics don’t involve lasers and light sabers, but we are fighting the battle on the enemy’s terms, that is, by means of power politics. 

And it isn’t working. 

Our enemies are simply too good at what they do.  They know how to use the systems they created.  And so, as we fight against them on their own turf, using their own means, we find ourselves losing.  I would go so far as to say that in the present crisis, we may have already lost.  Many of us have pinned our hopes on the 2020 election in the effort to rid the ‘galaxy’ of its current emperor. But I have become convinced that for all the rightness of our cause, we may in the end still come out on the losing side. The emperor, despite our best efforts and current polling, stands a good chance of being re-elected.  Indeed I believe that’s likely. Why?  Because the system has been rigged by the violent, and violent men and women know how win by force. Sure, I hope I’m wrong. But you have to admit, it’s at least a distinct possibility.

Which leads me to believe there must be a better way.

And that takes me to Jesus. 

Jesus had a different approach.  Instead of battling the kingdoms of the forceful by using their means, he wrote a new script for insurrection.  He eschewed, not just violence, but all tactics of the imperialists.  He created an alternative community and called it to live at the heart of the empire.  His followers, he envisioned, would follow in his steps.  They would not seek political power.  Their movement would be ‘political‘ in the sense that it would challenge the current order, but it would not be political in the sense the imperialists used that word. They would not fight on the enemy’s terms.  They would love, sacrifice, and serve.  They would do these things even as the empire attacked them, even as it killed them.  Living this way, God’s way, they would offer the world another path.  This would be the way to bring in God’s Kingdom.  This, in fact, would be God’s Kingdom.

A movie series about such a rebellion taking place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away probably wouldn’t sell as many tickets as the Skywalker saga.  But here’s the thing: in the real world, this form of rebellion actually works.  We know this because God’s word tells us so.  One day, when history draws to a close, it will be those who participated in this rebellion who will be hailed, alongside of Jesus, as the world’s true heroes (see, e.g., Revelation 7:9-17). 

I’ve been thinking about this kind of thing a lot lately.  In a time when evil politicians plot and scheme, my forty plus years of immersion in the Star Wars universe makes me want to fight.  I read the news.  I see the cruel, foolish, life-endangering acts of the imperialists, and my heart and soul cries to unite with Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa, and Rey Skywalker (nee Palpatine).  And while I do not turn to physical violence, the alignment of my heart to fight on the empire’s terms does spiritual violence to my soul.  I become angry, to the point of coming close to forsaking the call to love my enemies and follow Jesus’ path of downward mobility.  I am tempted to align myself with those who can take power and change the world from the top down, instead of from the bottom up.  And while I convince myself that I am fighting the good fight, I neglect the subtle danger that comes with aligning oneself with another, more benign version of empire, another attempt to establish a kingdom by force. 

And that is not Jesus’ way.

Don’t get me wrong.  It’s not that those who follow Jesus’ way need to be silent doormats who say nothing while the imperialists cause them harm, or worse, say nothing while they hurt and harm others.  And it isn’t that we should refrain from taking sides in the struggle for justice (a tactic only the privileged can afford to take). That isn’t Jesus’ way either.  It is incumbent upon us to speak truth to power, challenge the empire, and present alternative ways of living.  It is incumbent upon us to demonstrate, in word and deed, the truth of Jesus’ Kingdom. 

But I, we, need to be careful of what we allow into our hearts.  We need to be careful lest we begin a journey that employs force instead of love, plays into the enemy’s hands, and forsakes the winning way of Jesus. 

And so, today, I’m committing myself anew to the rebellion of Jesus.  The rebellion of love.  And I’m praying and thinking hard about how to best do that.  If you are interested in making the same commitment, I’d love to hear from you.  Perhaps together we can find our way, which is and always must be the way of Jesus.    

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent