Can a violent act be sometimes ‘strategically’ necessary?

February 23, 2008 · Posted in Reflections · 1 Comment 

A quote from The Great War for Civilisation: The Conquest of the Middle East, by Robert Fisk:

[Fisk speaking with an arms dealer at a weapons bazaar in Abu Dhabi] “I knew people in the Pershing [nuclear weapons programme] programme who quit the company. They couldn’t even think about nuclear warfare. You have to look at it from a strategic planner’s point of view—better Pershings in your backyard than an SS-20 [Russian nuclear missile] on your roof…and the Russians didn’t fire their SS-20’s.zz”

“But death? I ask again. Death?”

“Right or wrong, I never associate it with what I’m doing. If I see a bomb go off and legs flying off, I never say to myself, ‘I could have been the cause of that.’ Because we’re trying to prevent that. Sometimes some ‘wacko’ wants to torch something…When a guy like Hussein pulls the plug like that, we have no recourse…we say ‘Here’s what happens when you do that–don’t do it again!’”

This is a keen insight. If one views war or violence ’strategically’, it is possible to come up with reasons why the effects of war might be justified. But this requires distancing yourself from the effects of war on real people—the death, the suffering, the injustice inflicted on the innocent. You must distance yourself from reality, in other words, in order to justify violence or to justify working for an arms dealer.

I think taking a ’strategic’ view of war or violence avoids dealing with hard issues. If one feels a violent act or war is justified, then one must be willing to justify the direct or ‘indirect’ effects of that war or violent act on the innocent.

Israel’s response to the Palestinian ’security situation’ with violence; America’s response to the invasion of Kuwait with Gulf War I—both fulfil a ’strategic objective’. But viewed from the perspective of real people on the ground, the impacts on regular Palestinians and Iraqis are horrific and unjust. The innocent suffer because of violence—regardless of the ’strategic’ intent.

From my time in the Naval strategic nuclear weapons programme, I have learned to view war and violence from a detached, ’strategic’ perspective. Do I see a willingness in the life and words of Jesus to view violent acts as sometimes strategically necessary? Is it possible that the worldview I have been trained in is in conflict with the Kingdom of God in some ways?

Athletae Dei

February 11, 2008 · Posted in Reflections · Comment 


“…train yourself in Godliness…”

-1 Timothy 4:7

I have in front of me a 16-week training program for completing an Olympic-distance triathlon. The introductory paragraph preceding the tables of carefully tabulated swim, run, and bike workouts has a sentence that reads, ‘If you do the training mileage, you will finish the race’.

As someone who enjoys physical exercise and regularly provides entertainment at triathlons by staggering across the finish line at roughly the same time as the 60-70 year old women, sentences like this one tend to strike a chord in me. Its truth in sport is undeniable.

But I have always felt a hesitation to compare athletic training to spiritual training.

My hesitation is, however, tempered with the knowledge that the context of Paul’s call in 1 Tim 4:7 was the Greek gymnasium, where athletes trained to participate in the games. And we know that early Christians referred to themselves as ‘athletae dei’, the athletes of God. Yes, I affirm that there is indeed an element of training required in the life of the disciple; training of the body, mind, and spirit for the things of God.

But I am just not comfortable thinking about spiritual formation as spiritual training, identical in nature to athletic training—do the training miles, and you will finish the race—because I struggle with the notion that I can have ‘Christ formed in me’ (Gal 4:19) through my own effort alone. It is an analogy that crushes my spirit. There are too many areas of my own life in which I am learning to relinquish my astonishing capacity for effort apart from Jesus—I simply cannot view formation into Christlikeness as something that I do by my own hard work. As I learn to live my life with Jesus, learning to die to self, I need to know that spiritual formation is more than a merit badge for the über-disciplined.

A definition I heard long ago that resonates is that the notion that the spiritual disciplines are exercises we do to place ourselves before the Lord so He can change us by his grace.

In his letter to the Galatians, Paul references fruit to illustrate the natural result of the indwelling work of the Holy Spirit—the ‘fruits of the Spirit’ in Gal. 5:22-23, then, are simply a reflection of the inward reality of a person who is ‘abiding’ in Christ, and is learning to walk with the Master and have Christ ‘formed’ in them.

This is not the first time in Scripture that fruit is used to describe the outcome of a life lived with Jesus. In John 15, Jesus uses a similar example to show that good fruit comes from ‘abiding’ in Him. This is the link I have been looking for between my effort and formation into Christlikeness—I am to give my total energy and effort to training to remain (’abide’) in and be present to Jesus. This is in contrast to training hard to bear good fruit—for both Paul and Jesus say that fruit is the natural
outcome of other things: the indwelling work of the Holy Spirit, and walking with Jesus.

For me, the distinction is crucial—unlike physical exercise, I am not to base a training program around the fruit (the race). Yes, the analogy is still true—do the spiritual mileage and you will likely finish the race—but this is a natural outcome, and an indirect result of what we focus our attention on—being present to Jesus. Freedom is also to be found in the reality that I can now take no pride in whatever fruit I happen to bear, for whatever fruit I bear is the natural result of what is inside me. I am free to train hard to learn to walk with and ‘abide’ in Jesus, and Jesus teaches that when we do this, we bear fruit naturally.

For Further Action: Spend some time this week meditating on John 15. Have you been discouraged lately at a perceived lack of spiritual fruit in your life? Have you been crushed as you wrestle with the same sins day in and day out? Jesus teaches that such fruit (good or bad) is a natural result of what is inside you. Consider taking your eyes off of the fruit, and setting your focus on a training plan to learn to remain in Jesus and be present to Him, so that He might begin to change you by His grace.

The Arab-Israeli conflict

February 9, 2008 · Posted in Reflections · Comment 


“Jerusalem is a city of illusions. Here Ariel Sharon promises his people ’security’ and brings them war…in the Old City, Israeli troops and Palestinian civilians curse each other before the few astonished Christian tourists. Loving Jesus doesn’t help to make sense of the Arab-Israeli conflict.”

-The Great War for Civilisation: The Conquest of the Middle East, by Robert Fisk (2005)

With great respect to Robert Fisk’s 30+ years of being a foreign correspondent in the Middle East, I believe he is wrong—loving Jesus does indeed help make sense of the conflict. While wading through this excellent 1100-page tome on the complex and tortured history of the Middle East during the 20th century (including many personal first hand accounts), my heart is drawn to Jesus exhorting his followers (during the NT period of Roman occupation and atrocity) to repay evil with good, to love their enemy, and to forgive sacrificially. I begin to see a ray of light cutting through the fog of politics, greed, murder, selfishness, power, hatred, and endless cycle of violence that describes the 20th century in the Middle East.

I believe that one cannot view the horrific violence and suffering in Israel through the eyes of either ‘the right of the Jews to have security in a homeland’ or ‘the right of the dispossessed Palestinians to have injustice and ethnic cleansing reversed’—because there is hatred, violence, and injustice everywhere. When viewed through the lens of the Way of Jesus, the root causes of the self-perpetuating cycle of violence and power ‘over others’ are laid bare—when we refuse to forgive, refuse to show mercy, and begin to view others as animals rather than humans.

Indeed I am convinced, more than ever, that to ‘take a side’ in this conflict—unless it is the side of love, mercy, and compassion—is to cede ground to the Enemy in Satan’s ongoing battle with the Kingdom of God for the hearts and souls of men.