Which Jesus Are We Following?

The recent controversy surrounding Pastor Tony Spell has exposed something far greater than the conduct of one man.

It has exposed a question that every professing Christian must eventually answer.

Which Jesus are we following?

The issue is not whether Pastor Tony Spell acted wisely. Nor is it whether his critics acted wisely. The issue is whether the conduct being defended resembles the Lord whom Christians confess to follow.

The reaction has been revealing.

Thousands of professing Christians have defended violence as though it were plainly taught by Christ. Others have condemned it simply because they dislike the man involved. Yet remarkably few have paused to ask the only question that ultimately matters:

What did Jesus actually command His disciples to do?

Every discussion must begin there.

Our opinions cannot answer that question.

Political convictions cannot answer it.

Military history cannot answer it.

Our instinct for self-preservation cannot answer it.

Church tradition cannot answer it.

Only Jesus can answer it.

Jesus said,

"If you continue in My word, then you are truly My disciples." (John 8:31)

A disciple is not merely someone who admires Jesus.

A disciple is someone who submits to Him.

His words become our authority.

His life becomes our example.

His commands become our rule.

Everything else must bow before Him.

This is where I believe much of modern Christianity has quietly drifted.

Many sincere believers have inherited conclusions about violence before ever carefully examining the explicit teaching of Christ. Those conclusions often come from patriotism, culture, political philosophy, military tradition, family upbringing, or respected teachers. None of those things are evil in themselves. But every one of them must eventually stand beneath the searching authority of the words of Jesus.

The Christian life is not defined by what seems reasonable to fallen men.

It is defined by what Jesus commands His disciples to do.

That principle changes everything.

Jesus concluded the Sermon on the Mount with these words:

"Everyone who hears these words of Mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house upon the rock... But everyone who hears these words of Mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house upon the sand." (Matthew 7:24–27)

Notice what Jesus did not say.

He did not divide mankind into conservatives and liberals.

He did not divide them into patriotic and unpatriotic.

He did not divide them into courageous and cowardly.

He divided them into only two groups.

Those who hear His words and obey them.

Those who hear His words and do not.

One is wise.

The other is foolish.

Everything therefore depends upon one question:

What are "these words" that Jesus says determine whether our house stands or falls?

Among them are these:

"Love your enemies."

"Bless those who curse you."

"Do good to those who hate you."

"Pray for those who mistreat you and persecute you."

Those words are neither obscure nor difficult to understand.

They are difficult to obey because they strike directly at the fallen heart.

Everything within us desires self-preservation.

Everything within us wants retaliation.

Everything within us naturally believes violence deserves violence.

Yet Christ commands something entirely different.

Notice what He never says.

He never says,

"Love your enemies until they become dangerous."

He never says,

"Pray for those who persecute you unless your life is threatened."

He never says,

"Do good to those who hate you until they attempt to hurt you."

Those exceptions exist nowhere in His teaching.

Many immediately reply,

"But Jesus told His disciples to buy swords."

Indeed He did.

The question is not whether Jesus spoke those words.

The question is why He spoke them.

Jesus Himself answers the question.

He tells His disciples to obtain a money bag.

A travel bag.

And a sword.

Then He immediately explains why.

"So that the Scripture would be fulfilled: 'He was numbered with the transgressors.'"

Then Peter demonstrates exactly how many Christians interpret those words today.

He draws his sword.

He strikes.

He wounds.

And Jesus immediately stops him.

He heals the enemy Peter had wounded.

The disciple who believed the sword was to be used was corrected by the Master who commanded its purchase.

That should give every disciple pause.

Years later Peter understood what he failed to understand that night.

He no longer points believers to the sword.

He points them to Christ.

He writes:

"For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in His steps. He committed no sin, nor was any deceit found in His mouth. When He was insulted, He did not insult in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but continued entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously." (1 Peter 2:21–23)

Notice Peter's words carefully.

Christ did not merely give us a doctrine to believe.

He left us an example to imitate.

Peter does not point us to what Jesus could have done.

He points us to what Jesus actually did.

The disciple who once believed the sword was the answer now tells every generation of Christians that the pattern for following Christ is found in His willingness to suffer without retaliation, to endure without threatening, and to entrust Himself to the righteous judgment of His Father.

That is the pattern Peter leaves the Church.

Others appeal to Paul's words about providing for one's household.

But Paul is discussing the care of widows, not violent self-defense.

Others appeal to Paul's command to "act like men."

But Paul immediately defines Christian courage by saying,

"Let everything you do be done in love."

Still others appeal to Romans 13.

Yet Romans 13 never says Christians are to wield the government's sword.

Instead, Paul surrounds that passage with commands directed to believers:

"Bless those who persecute you."

"Repay no one evil for evil."

"Never avenge yourselves."

"If your enemy is hungry, feed him."

"Overcome evil with good."

Then after describing the role of civil government he returns immediately to the believer's responsibility:

"Owe no one anything except to love one another... Love does no harm to a neighbor."

Paul's argument never changes.

Christians are forbidden to avenge themselves.

God has ordained civil government.

Christians are commanded to continue loving.

Whether a Christian may personally occupy the office that bears the sword is another discussion entirely.

Romans 13 never answers it.

What it unquestionably does is leave untouched every command Jesus gave His disciples about loving their enemies.

This is why I find the cumulative testimony of the New Testament so compelling.

One passage may be misunderstood.

Two passages may be debated.

But when Jesus, Peter, Paul, James, John, and the rest of the apostles repeatedly command believers to bless persecutors, forgive enemies, refuse retaliation, overcome evil with good, and follow the example of Christ who suffered without threatening, the weight of evidence becomes extraordinarily difficult to escape.

The question therefore is not whether violence sometimes appears effective.

The question is not whether it feels reasonable.

The question is not even what Christians have believed throughout history.

The question is whether our Lord has spoken.

Once He has spoken, every disciple has only one remaining question:

Will I obey Him?

Perhaps everything would have unfolded very differently if Pastor Tony Spell, his wife, and the congregation had crossed the street, not burning with anger but filled with the love of Christ.

Imagine them carrying groceries.

Offering to help pay bills.

Asking the very man who had threatened them how they might serve him.

Imagine that headline.

Millions would not have witnessed another confrontation.

They would have witnessed the Gospel.

They would have seen disciples believing that Christ actually meant what He said.

Many will call such thinking foolish.

That should not surprise us.

Paul wrote,

"The foolishness of God is wiser than men."

The wisdom of God has never appeared wise to the natural man.

Neither did a crucified Messiah.

If you believe I am wrong, I ask only one thing.

Correct me from the explicit teachings of Jesus and His apostles.

Do not ask me to surrender Christ's commands to political philosophy.

Do not ask me to exchange His words for military tradition.

Do not ask me to place human instinct above divine instruction.

Show me where my Lord teaches His disciples to return violence for violence.

If He does, I will gladly change my mind.

If He does not, I dare not explain away the words of the One who purchased me with His own blood.

Some may wonder whether these convictions come from someone who has never faced danger.

They do not.

I have been threatened with death.

My wife has been harassed.

I have been thrown to the ground.

I have been struck.

But none of that proves anything.

The issue has never been what happened to me.

The issue has always been what Christ commanded me.

If I were to see a woman or child being attacked, I would not stand by in indifference.

I would go toward the danger.

I would plead.

I would preach.

I would command the aggressor to stop.

If necessary, I would restrain him so the innocent could escape.

And if I were beaten in the process, I would count it an honor to suffer while protecting another without abandoning the way of Christ.

I have seen fights end through nothing more than courageous intervention, pleading, and truth spoken with compassion.

Sometimes I walked away unhurt.

Sometimes I did not.

Either way, Christ did not lose.

The kingdom of God did not suffer defeat.

Faithfulness is never measured by whether we avoid suffering.

It is measured by whether we remain like Christ when suffering finds us.

This is not ultimately a debate about self-defense.

It is a question of discipleship.

Someday every one of us will stand before Jesus Christ.

We will not be asked whether our political philosophy was correct.

We will not be asked whether our instincts proved practical.

We will not be asked whether our favorite preacher agreed with us.

We will stand before the One who said,

"Love your enemies."

The question on that day will not be whether those words were difficult.

The question will be whether we believed they were meant to be obeyed.

As for me, I would rather be thought a fool for believing Jesus than be found wise for explaining Him away.