by Gregory A. Boyd
The love we as Christians are called to trust and emulate is supremely manifested in the cross of Jesus. The cross is the ultimate symbol of the kingdom of God, for it defines what that kingdom always looks like. It looks like Christ—self-sacrificial and loving. It looks like grace.
Jesus could have exercised “power over” Pilate and the Roman government to defend himself. He could have allowed his disciples to pick up swords and fight, and he could have summoned legions of warrior angels. He could have “won”! Had he done so, he would have preserved his life and controlled the behavior of his foes, but he would not have transformed anyone’s heart. He would not have helped anyone love God or love themselves and others as people loved by God. The power of the sword, even if wielded by mighty warring angels, can never transform a person’s inner being. While the use of the sword tends to deepen the resolve of the punished rather than transform it, Jesus’ aim was to transform hearts and, by that means, transform the world.
So rather than fight and “win,” Jesus chose to “lose.” Or better, he chose to lose by kingdom-of-the-world standards so that he might win by kingdom-of-God standards. His trust was not in the power of the sword but in the power of radical, self-sacrificial love, and so he let himself be crucified. Three days later, God vindicated his trust in the power of sacrificial love. He had carried out God’s will and, by his sacrifice, defeated death and the forces of evil that hold this world in bondage (Col. 2:13–15).
This is the heart of the kingdom of God. The rule of God is established wherever God’s will is obeyed and God’s character is manifested. These are, in fact, two facets of the same reality, for God’s will is that his character, his “name,” or his glory be manifested (see John 12:28; 13:32; 17:1), which is all about displaying God’s unsurpassable love (1 John 4:8–9, 16; cf. 3:16). Throughout eternity, God has existed as the perfect love of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. When this love is turned outward toward humanity, it looks like Calvary, which perfectly expresses the loving nature and rule of God in a way that legions of angels or a band of fighting disciples would not.
The character and rule of God is manifested when instead of employing violence against his enemies to crush them, Jesus loves his enemies in order to redeem them. The kingdom is revealed when instead of protecting himself, Jesus allows himself to be murdered. God’s love is marvelously put on display when instead of clinging to his perfect holiness, Jesus puts himself in the place of sinners. And the nature and rule of God shines radiantly in Jesus’ final prayer for the forgiveness of those who moments earlier mocked him, spit on him, whipped him, and crucified him (Luke 23:34).
In all of this, Jesus revealed God’s character and God’s reign, for all of it disclosed that God loves humanity with the love eternally expressed in the Trinity. In love, God wants to serve humanity by reconciling us to himself, whatever the cost. God places himself under us, despite our sin, to save us and transform us into the image of Jesus. Nothing could be further from the “power over” mindset that characterizes the kingdom of the world.
As temple guards were about to arrest Jesus, Peter drew his sword and cut off the ear of Malchus, the slave of the high priest (John 18:10). This is predictable tit-for-tat behavior in the kingdom of the world: when you’re threatened, defend yourself with force. It’s significant to note that Peter was always the one who most resisted Jesus’ servanthood model of the Messiah. Like many others, Peter held the notion that the Messiah would be a political and military leader who would exercise “power over” the Romans and free Israel. At one point Jesus even has to rebuke Peter, actually calling him “Satan” because of his obstinate resistance to Jesus’ call to suffer (Matthew 16:21–23).
Apparently Peter hadn’t yet learned his lesson, for he was still trying to protect Jesus (and his own ideal of a militant Messiah). This time, though, Jesus told him to put his sword away, reminding him that “all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matthew 26:52). In the tit-for-tat kingdom of Babylon, violence begets more violence, and Jesus hadn’t come to propagate more of that. Rather, he came to plant the seed of a kingdom that alone holds the hope of ending all violence.
So, far from using his divine authority to fight back, calling legions of angels and forcefully controlling his enemy’s behavior, Jesus used his divine authority to heal the ear of a man who came to arrest him. Though he could have exercised “power over” the servant, he displayed outrageous, unconditional love instead by coming under him, by serving him. Jesus was saying, in effect, “Though you seek to do me harm, I care about you and will not use my authority to defeat you. Rather I will serve you and heal you.”
This kind of power transforms people. We can’t be sure, of course, but it’s hard to imagine the healed servant not being profoundly affected by this unexpected act of love. Do you think the servant, with whatever ill will he may have harbored toward Jesus on the way to arresting him, continued to harbor it after his encounter with kingdom love? Can you imagine him being among those who spit on Jesus and mocked him? Is it not more likely that he became at least a little more open to God’s love and perhaps a little more loving toward others as a result of Jesus’ gift? The point is that love, through service, has a power to affect people in ways that “power over” tactics do not, and it is this unique power of self-sacrificial love that most centrally defines the kingdom of God.
Insofar as we trust this kind of power and think and act accordingly, we are bearers of the kingdom of God. Insofar as we do not, we are simply participants in the kingdom of the world.
From The Myth of a Christian Nation by Gregory A. Boyd
