Mē Antistēnai: A Brief Comment on Matthew 5:39
Mē Antistēnai: A Brief Comment on Matthew 5:39
Understanding the implications of the Christian life of nonviolence and why it's a good calling.
This present article is dedicated to a friend of mine, Martin. He gave me the impetus to finally go ahead and type it up, and it is indeed something I’ve been wanting to get to eventually. The Sermon on the Mount constitutes a significant segment of the Gospel of Matthew (making up chapters 5 to 7) and contains that Gospel’s largest elaborations of Jesus’ teachings. While I won’t go into the nitty-gritty regarding the nature, style, or context of the Sermon nor any other exegetical concerns here, these are certainly interesting things to consider and wish I might well look at a later date.1 At present, all I want to focus on is a commandment given in the Sermon that has puzzled many. In Matthew 5:39, after several comments on different ethical matters, Jesus proclaims, “But I say to you, do not resist the evildoer.” The plain reading evokes speculation to many, because the sentiment expressed just doesn’t seem right. “You mean to say in the same book that reads ‘The fear of the LORD is to hate evil’ (Prov. 8:13) and ‘Clothe yourselves with the full armor of God so that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil’ (Eph. 6:11) is also telling us not to do anything about evil?”
While it certainly appears to be a head-scratcher at first glance the issue is easily resolved when we put on our Greeking caps and dissect the text. Underlying “do not resist” are two words in Greek, which compose the title of this article: μὴ ἀντιστῆναι (mē antistēnai). Mē is the ancient Greek negative particle, or the word that expresses negation in a language (i.e., no). Antistēnai is the main word here, what is being negated by mē, and is composed of two words: ἀντί (anti) and ἵστημι (histémi). Anti possesses a negating sense (like in antimatter), but it also possesses an oppositional meaning, such as “against,” and histémi means “to make a stand,” thus the literal translation would be “to make a stand against,” which is reflected in the overwhelmingly common translation of “resist.” However, this semantic analysis only seems to reaffirm the complication as, again, it implies doing nothing (“do not resist”) in the face of evil, which seems to go against every intuitive notion of Christian ethics. So, what gives?
Wooden, one-to-one translations usually never work. Young’s Literal Translation, (in)famous for priding itself on its thoroughly literal translation philosophy, has been described as unreadable in certain passages.2 Many complex and specific factors go into determining how to render the Greek or Hebrew text; a brief demonstration can be found in the United Bible Societies’ Handbooks, which is a 55-volume, 30,000-page series of textbooks that thoroughly explain why and how each book of the Bible is translated in the way they are. With antistēnai these same complexities apply.
When we examine the use of antistēnai throughout the corpus of ancient Greek literature we find that this word is often used in the context of military combat (as is the case in the LXX, e.g.: Lev. 26:37; Deut. 7:24; 25:18; Josh. 7:13; 23:9; Jdg. 2:14; etc.). Other studies of the word have produced similar understandings, that it generally regards the exercise of violent retaliatory force. “The word ‘resist’ is antistēnai, almost a technical term for revolutionary resistance of a specifically military variety[,]” explains theologian N.T. Wright, “Taken in this sense, the command draws out the implication of a good deal of the sermon so far[,]” that the kingdom of God will not pave the way forward through blood and the accompanying violence, but that it will seek “the different, oblique way of creative non-violent resistance.”3 Jesus is commanding that we “do not use violence to resist evil,” a translation we can qualify when we move from word-to-word to sense-for-sense.4
Another observation we can make that can help us better understand what is meant here can be found by turning to 1 Peter 5:8-9, the relevant portion of which reads “ὁ ἀντίδικος ὑμῶν διάβολος...περιπατεῖ...ᾧ ἀντίστητε” (“Your enemy the devil…is on the prowl…Resist him”). The same word is used here, this time not being negated but affirmed. What is important about this occurrence of antistēnai is that it’s explained by Peter immediately afterwards in verse 9: “Resist him, strong in your faith, because you know that your brothers and sisters throughout the world are enduring the same kinds of suffering.” We resist the devil and his works by being strong in the faith, by remaining allegiant to the kingdom of God and not failing it.5 This is not passivity, this is reactivity, but this reactivity is not done with a bludgeon, but rather it is what Jesus certainly means by being “wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (Matt. 10:16). Jesus is not imploring us to be passive and cowardly wimps, He is not sanctioning pusillanimity, but rather He is instructing us to not repay evil with evil (1 Pet. 3:9) and seek creative reconciliatory, preventative, or rehabilitative methods of conflict resolution.6
It is certainly something unfamiliar to us, which doesn’t come easy, but it certainly bears no expectation of rolling over or tucking our tails, but actively facing evil in ways consistent with the lamblike grace of Christ. Lambs are prey, they don’t possess the “anatomical faculties” to fight back, but they don’t succumb to predators all the time. They are nimble and quick, and can escape if they know what they’re doing. In the same way, Christians, when faced with evil, don’t have7 the spiritual faculties to “fight” back, but we can be wise as serpents and innocent as doves and turn the other cheek, which (if it implies a cultural sign of great disrespect)8 is a cunning tactic. Under the influence of a Greco-Roman martial spirit we can be at our wits ends trying to understand how to defeat evil in a way that doesn’t involve bludgeoning it, but if we let ourselves be led by a (the) Christian Spirit we will know how to “live peaceably with all.” Nonviolent resistance is efficacious, and while often (especially in modern times) it’s inappropriately represented by childish activists (such as in obstructive direct action like occupations, sit-ins, lock-ons, et al.), there are many excellent examples from the past we may admire, such as the apostles’ refusal to stop preaching the Gospel under the threat of death (Acts 5), the undertakings of European Christians in hiding and aiding the “undesirables” of the Nazi regime (like Corrie ten Boom, Maximillian Kolbe, André and Magda Trocmé, Damaskinos of Athens, Mary Elmes, Angelos Evert, Oskar Schindler, among many others),9 or the righteous perseverance of the Anabaptists despite their persecution by every other major branch of Christianity. It can be hard, certainly, but nothing can be harder than taking on the sins of the whole world and being “like a lamb that is led to slaughter” (Isa. 53:7). Indeed, each of these examples I’ve given bore out, as the early Church resisted10 the attacks of the Roman and Jewish authorities, so well in fact that within three centuries it’d become the dominant religion of the ancient pagan empire,11 likewise the Third Reich imploded and within a year was snuffed out,12 and the Anabaptists preserved patiently until the rest of Christendom caught up with basic notions of religious liberty, restoring peace and rights to the Anabaptist brethren, permitting them to settle and establish themselves permanently as a people. As J.R.R. Tolkien explored in his philosophy, a fantastic thing to explore, the nature of evil is a parasitic nonentity, and while the world, marred as it is by Satanic elements, tends towards greater depravities, the thing is, being so destructive, evil must necessarily become self-destructive before long. Tolkien, thus, cogently spoke of the “eucatastrophe,” which is still a catastrophe, in the Greek sense of being an “overturning” or “disruption,” but is eus, “good,” in that what is left after the dust settles from this climactic implosion is something better. Tolkien’s favorite example was the Cross, the heinous brutalization of the God-Man, a disgusting affair, but nonetheless the source of mankind’s eternal joy, “For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!” There is nothing that can defeat God, and thus there is no evil that cannot be ultimately defeated.13
Accordingly, “not resisting the evildoer” (or, more appropriately, “not resisting by evil” or even “combative means”)14 is a challenge to Christians to “fight the good fight of the faith” (1 Tim. 6:12) and “lay down his life for his friends” (Jn. 15:13), not fretting over building up our earthly riches but rather being willing to receive the bounties prepared for us by our heavenly Father (Matt. 6:19-21). Is it difficult? Of course, but total obedience is the beauty of the Christian life, and through total obedience Christ worked His grace on Earth, all the way unto death (Phil. 2:7-8), and this unwavering obedience resulted in the vindication of Him and the salvation of all who trust in Him (Phil. 2:9-11).15 We are an earthly species, all our realities are earthly, and so to live a life that commands sacrificing earthly things in pursuit of heavenly ones is certainly difficult, as numerous objections to the nonviolent life seem to be centered on, but as Christians we take heart in these realities that I’ve pointed out, that God in Heaven has majestic things prepared for us, and that He will break the world down to its basic elements and restore it to a glorious form that His children will live in, peacefully, for eternity (2 Pet. 3:8-13). Christianity is an earthly religion, but not a worldly one, and far more importantly it is an eschatological religion, focusing on preparing, teaching, and inaugurating final realities for the good of all men.
Accordingly, we must “live peaceably with all” (Rom. 12:18) in order to, as God’s fellow workers (1 Cor. 3:9), build up His kingdom on Earth, preparing the world for its ultimate, triumphal arrival. Yes, it is hard, but, again, the Cross was hard yet nothing heinous came from it, only the everlasting joy of salvation in Christ. If we do not seek peace on Earth, in service of the Prince of Peace (Isa. 9:6), flaming the fires of the world, all we end up doing, as N.T. Wright put it, is “[keeping] the evil in circulation.”16 In the end, all realities will be restored and reconciled with God, and the eternal communion with God that we’ll have will bury the atrocities of our world under the depths of nonexistence, for “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away” (Rev. 21:4).17 Shall we not take part in these things, seeking to bring all peoples before God, being put at peace with our Father, and together beating our swords into plowshares (Isa. 2:3-4)? If we are truly Christians, we will pursue such peace and well-being above all else, for there is nothing else above these.
The best treatment of the Sermon that I know of is Craig Keener’s The Gospel of Matthew, 160-257.
David Dewey, A User’s Guide to Bible Translations, 134.
N.T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 291.
Biblical scholar Walter Wink is overwhelmingly responsible for the arguments for and popularity of this understanding of mē antistēnai, which he developed in the following works: Walter Wink, Engaging the Powers, 175-94; idem, “Neither Passivity nor Violence,” in The Love of Enemy and Nonretaliation in the New Testament, ed. Willard Swartley, 102-125; idem, The Powers That Be, 98-111.
See Matthew Bates, Salvation by Allegiance Alone.
Greg Boyd, Crucifixion of the Warrior God, 2 vols., 1:819.
Or, perhaps more appropriately, are prohibited from employing.
Craig Keener, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, 59, 196.
Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place; Peter Hellman, When Courage Was Stronger Than Fear; Nechama Tec, When Light Pierced the Darkness.
In the creatively nonviolent way discussed in this article.
Alan Kreider, The Patient Ferment of the Early Church.
George Paxton, Nonviolent Resistance to the Nazis.
Tolkien’s primary discussion of this, along with several fascinating ideas of his, occurs in his essay “On Fairy Stories,” which can be found in the collection The Tolkien Reader.
Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, 290-91.
Brandon Crowe, The Last Adam.
N.T. Wright, Matthew for Everyone, Part 1, 51.
Often, the imagery and rhetoric of Revelation is taken as indicating a wrathful, militaristic invasion of God that will submerge His enemies in a cosmic bloodbath. Certainly, John’s literary style is intense, but a proper study reveals how that rhetoric is simply that: a stylistic choice. See Matthew Curtis Fleischer, Jesus the Pacifist, 87-136; cf. J. Denny Weaver, The Nonviolent God, 34-61.