Saturday, November 20, 2021

Vigilantes and Self-Defense

I am not going to add my comments to the Rittenhouse or Arbery trials (interesting that one is identified by the defendant and the other by the victim – perhaps, at least in part because one has a single defendant and the other a single victim). I have not been in either courtroom, and plenty of other people are speaking and writing their reactions. No one needs yet another voice in that cacophony.  Rather, I have been pondering how both of these trials have raised the issue of vigilante justice. Some cheering for those who are refusing to accept what they find objectionable by taking direct action, maybe even curtailing public demonstrations and protests. Others warning of the danger of the loss of due process by runaway violence empowered by firearms that infringe on the rights of speech and peaceable assembly. Are vigilantes heroes or villains?

I remember the TV westerns of my growing up years in the 50s and 60s. Vigilantes were celebrated when established law enforcement was absent or corrupt. Their independence from political and bureaucratic control was welcomed by ordinary people. I know there are more, but these came quickly to mind for me: the Lone Ranger, the Cisco Kid, Zorro, Paladin. I am not suggesting that this sort of folk lore validates vigilante justice, only that it has a long cherished history. In more modern settings private investigators and even lawyers are cast a models of vigilante justice: Perry Mason, Mannix, Magnum. Super heroes such as Superman and Batman are vigilantes working out justice outside of the system when it seems powerless. On the other side, lynch mobs may think of themselves as vigilantes for their own perception of justice.

I am suspecting that the contrasting reactions to vigilanteism that these two trials have brought into public discourse are another indication that the divisions in the US are much deeper than contrasting political opinions, but reflect disconnected, incongruous realities in which people operate which are not amenable to debate or discussion. They do not share a common vocabulary necessary for communication. Neither can grasp how those in the other reality can reasonably embrace not only their opinions but their entire ethos.

As these thoughts have been rumbling around in my mind today, I have wondered whether attitudes toward vigilanteism figures into responses to things such as “good guy with a gun” and the events of January 6.

These two trials are also bringing the right of “self-defense” into public discourse. Much of that seems to focus on celebrating the right of individuals to defend themselves with deadly force. On the other side are those who are questioning the legal and ethical boundaries of “self-defense.” Our human propensity for rationalization and self-justification makes this elusive. Generally, acting in “self-defense” is an emotional response to feeling threatened. While the emotions are very real and very strong, they may not always match objective reality. When firearms are involved, snap miscalculations can bring tragic results and injustices.

Again, my concern is far broader than these two court cases, though they have prompted what I hope can be a constructive public discourse. “Self-defense” depends on both legal and social consensus to prevent runaway violence. The Mosaic Code that provided “eye for eye and tooth for tooth” sets limits on revenge and prevents hopelessly escalating violence. Similarly, it provided “cities of refuge” where someone who was being pursued after an intentional or accidental killing to have a safe haven until justice could be discerned. I mention these things to be clear that I am not advocating eliminating the legal right of “self-defense” but suggesting it needs a better understanding.

I put “self-defense” in quotes because while I believe it is legitimate and important in a civil society, as one who aspires to follow Jesus, my personal ethic is quite different. I recognize that my perspective is radically counter-cultural. I do not expect the society as a whole to adopt it. I recognize as well that many Christians do not share my views. I am not questioning their faith or discipleship. This is a case of what Paul wrote in Romans 14:5, “Let all be fully convinced in their own minds” while not judging others who take a different view. I would add as well that I do not expect the culture as a whole to adopt the sort of ethic Jesus taught, such as in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), but I believe we who claim Jesus as Lord can live out following Jesus in such a way that it offers an attractive, viable alternative to people who are frustrated with and oppressed by the dominant society.

So with that lengthy introduction and perhaps disclaimer, I want to be clear that I have serious reservations about lethal force for “self-defense” as one who is intentional, albeit imperfect, about following Jesus. In John 18:36 Jesus said to Pilate, “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.” From the cross, Jesus prayed for those who executed him, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34) Stephen echoed this when he was being stoned, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” (Acts 7:60) At this point, I am not going to offer a comprehensive explication of my personal rejection of lethal force for “self-defense,” but suggest that the Hebrew prophets saw a precursor of this ethic, such as Isaiah 53:7, “he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”

I am not going to judge or even argue with those who disagree with what I am fully convinced of. I intend only to bear witness to my feeble, faltering efforts to follow Jesus as faithfully as I can. For me, this an matter of both faith and discernment. What sort of “self-defense” is legitimate stopping short of lethal force? What risk of faith might I need to take to defend someone who is being attacked?

Sunday, November 14, 2021

Hannah's Story - lectio divina reflections

 This week I have been reflecting on Hannah's story in 1 Samuel 1,2, and Elkanah's words to Hannah in verse 8 have been bothering me. "Am I not worth more to you than ten sons?" The text does not say how Hannah responded, and maybe she didn't. But the very next thing recorded is that Hannah was deeply destressed and weeping bitterly (v. 10). Whether she said anything or not, I can imagine Hannah thinking, "If you love and value me so much, why do you keep having sex with Peninnah so she can keep having babies with which to taunt me?"

As I came to Hannah's story in today's lectio divina, The second step (Meditatio) ask how I identify with any of the characters in the text. This is so much Hannah's story that identifying with her seems natural, which is what I supposed prompted my reflections on 1 Samuel 1:8 that I wrote on Thursday. Today I recognized another awareness has been emerging through the week in response to "In due time Hannah conceived" (v. 20). 

This brought me to consider verse 18 which says that after her conversation with Eli, she returned to her quarters to eat and drink and was no longer sad. Not all ancient manuscripts include "with her husband." Verse 19 suggests that Elkanah "knew" (a common shorthand for had sex) Hannah when they returned home to Ramah (which isn't to say they were not intimate in Shiloh). I actually rather like including "with her husband" while still in Shiloh linked with no longer being sad, imaging that they took the necessary step for fulfilling Hannah's prayer immediately before returning home. 

The line in verse 20 "in due time;" however, suggests to me that Samuel was not conceived in Shiloh but after they had been back in Ramah for a while. Even though Eli's assurance to Hannah were not specific and may have been a generically pastoral response, She took them as assurance that God would answer her prayer. So I have been wondering, how long was "in due time," and how did Hannah's faith fare as she waited? 

I have really been probing the dynamics of the story from Hannah's perspective, but am prompted to consider what assurances God gives when I am struggling and how does my faith fare when waiting for "due time?"

I am very aware that polygamy was practiced, often without moral comment, in the Old Testament. However, as in this incident, the pains that come with it are clear, but I am not suggesting this is some sort of moral regulation for modern marriage practices, one way or another. I am mostly interested here in the realities of human relationships and living in faith.