I was listening to a sermon by one of my favorite speaker-authors, Ty Gibson, when an innocent-appearing statement sent me someplace I hadn’t been intending to go. He said, “To know God, as God really is, vaccinates the soul against violence.” I looked at those words bold across my screen, and I wanted to believe them, but my knowledge of the Old Testament stopped me cold. I began thinking of Bible stories I hadn’t thought about for years, and as I much as I wanted to believe knowing God moves me away from violence, I wasn’t at all sure the Bible supports that. I say I know a loving God, but does a loving God encourage violence? Suddenly I felt betrayed.

Is My Friend A Murderer?

There’s this Guy named Jesus, who is also Father and Spirit, and I love Him. And He loves me. All the time. Even when it makes no sense. We talk, we listen, we sit together. Jesus is beautiful. And Jesus is changing my life. He gets close to me and He speaks healing over wounds and truth over lies. He is generous and graceful and kind, and He holds me. He surprises me with grace. But He refuses to get me all fixed up perfect because He knows I would say, “Ha! I knew what was most important to You all along was for me to be good.” And that’s not what’s most important to Him at all. We’re friends. Not because we’re even remotely of the same status or on the same plane of existence, but because He wants to be friends with me. (John 15:15)

For reasons unknown to me, I had never stopped to think about whether my Friend is a murderer. Whether He asks His human friends to kill. Whether He punishes, sometimes with death. Despite being familiar with violence in the Bible, I had never engaged with it in the context of my friendship with Jesus. All of a sudden I had a lot of questions about my Friend. What’s going on? Am I seeing things wrong? Is the Bible seeing things wrong? If my Friend is both loving and violent, why does everything in me want it to be different than that?

Biblical Violence

I read the entire Bible several times between the ages of eight and twenty. I have been exposed many times to the stories of the Old Testament. As a child and youth, I don’t recall that I ever felt any sadness, concern, or horror. Now I’m circling back to these stories from a place of relationship – the place of loving God – and I feel betrayed. It’s like I thought I knew someone and then come to find out they are a mass murderer. I am shocked. Hurt. I don’t know what to do next. Have I been duped? Did God have a change of heart? Is He both loving Father and mass murderer? If so, will there come a day when God asks me to murder?

Consider this passage:

Moses saw that Aaron had let the people get completely out of control, much to the amusement of their enemies. So he stood at the entrance to the camp and shouted, “All of you who are on the Lord’s side, come here and join me.” And all the Levites gathered around him. Moses told them, “This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: Each of you, take your swords and go back and forth from one end of the camp to the other. Kill everyone—even your brothers, friends, and neighbors.” The Levites obeyed Moses’ command, and about 3,000 people died that day. Then Moses told the Levites, “Today you have ordained yourselves for the service of the Lord, for you obeyed him even though it meant killing your own sons and brothers. Today you have earned a blessing.”

Exodus 32:25-29, NLT

That’s heavy.

I am not drawn toward God in this story, but rather repulsed. I recoil. And then I dismiss. Yes, the Bible says that, but in recent years I have chosen not to think about it. Not on purpose – I just began reading religious books more than the Bible, and my Bible reading centered more in the New Testament. This is fine and good unless my life bears evidence of what I believe about God. If that is true, I cannot sweep this under the rug. For if in some corner of my heart I believe God is violent, then when my world changes, might I be convinced to be violent? Might I become the person killing in the name of God? Oh, I know it feels so far away from my safe and comfortable middle class American life. But I’m guessing it was far from the minds of many who joined Hitler’s army. Is it possible that if I don’t think about this now, it will think for me later?

Ahhh, yes. This is a good question. But I cannot let fear lead this discussion. Scrambling for certainty does me no favors. Trying to eliminate all uncomfortable answers seems an equally wretched path. So what is left? History isn’t much help. It’s full of stories of people killing in God’s name, and being killed in God’s name. Who is right? Some people say every word of the Bible is to be taken at face value, and some say it’s not. Who is right? Must I hold God at arm’s length until I figure out what’s going on?

Still Friends

As I experience this confusion and feelings of betrayal, within 48 hours of the I-don’t-know-if-I-can-believe-this-non-violence-statement upheaval, I have conversations with four people who listen and affirm my struggle. Not one glosses over it or tries to fix it. They listen. They share their own struggles. They sit with me in the not-knowing. When I realize what has happened, I weep with gratitude and relief. I may feel lost, but the God who loves me is watching over me. He doesn’t come out of the sky with an answer to quiet all my questions. He doesn’t tell me not to question. He sends me four friends to walk with me. He walks with me.

I don’t have the theological answers to my questions. Perhaps God is misrepresented by Biblical authors. Perhaps violence is at times an act of mercy. Perhaps God gets blood on His hands when He reaches down into this bloody, human mess, and I don’t see the whole picture. My heart, my eyes and ears, are open. I desire understanding. But I don’t have to have an answer now. Answers are not as satisfying as they seem. I could be safe with answers. But I am safer with God. And so, while I regret to inform you that you have read this far only to discover I have no answers, I am delighted to tell you that Jesus and I are still friends.

Safe With You

Lord, I’m safe with You. Nothing I can say would make You feel guarded or put up defenses. You look at me with an open face and posture. You want me to know You, and You are vulnerable enough to care what I think about You, because You love me. And yet You’ve been misunderstood for thousands of years. You’re used to Your own children spouting off nonsense about You. You are safe. Oh how I need a safe place, a safe Person! A place where I can get things wrong and I’m not rejected. May I always take refuge in You. And may Your love be a big enough refuge to bear all things.