On Villains, Vengeance, and the Christian Hero

The Christmas story is about a certain Hero. But like all hero tales, the story also has its villains. When King Herod learned that the “king of the Jews” was to be born in Bethlehem, he set about apprehending the baby. This prompted an angel of the Lord to appear to Joseph in a dream, telling him “Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him” (Mt. 2:13). Joseph and Mary obeyed this instruction, which served to fulfill the Old Testament prophecy, “out of Egypt I have called my son” (Hos. 11:1). When he realized he had been outsmarted, Herod was furious and ordered the slaughter of all baby boys in Bethlehem.

There are also villains who opposed Jesus during his three-year ministry. Twice during conversations with the Pharisees, they attempted to kill him. During the Feast of Tabernacles, Jesus proclaimed his equality with God, saying, “before Abraham was, I am.” We are told that his opponents “picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple” (Jn. 8:59). Later, during the Feast of Dedication, Jesus again enraged the Pharisees by asserting his divine identity when he said, “I and the Father are one” (Jn. 10:30). In response,  “the Jews picked up stones again to stone him.” But rather than smiting them, Jesus simply replied, “I have shown you many good works from the Father; for which of them are you going to stone me?” (Jn. 10:32).

At the end of his earthly ministry, there were many more villains who, together, succeeded in killing the Lord. Judas Iscariot betrayed him, the Jewish high priest Caiaphas, along with the Sanhedrin, sought to have Jesus executed for blasphemy, Pontius Pilate ordered the execution—despite his claiming innocence in the process—and Herod Antipas, the crowd, and the Roman soldiers who carried out the execution, all played their villainous roles.

Even after Jesus publicly rose from the dead, there was more villainy from the chief priests, Jewish elders, and Roman soldiers who attempted a cover-up of the resurrection (Mt. 28:11-15).

So many villains, and one Hero. It is easy to overlook the significance of the fact that, despite all of the treachery, lies, and murderous injustice, Jesus never sought revenge. On the contrary, he consistently reasoned with his opponents or else remained silent. He perfectly fulfilled his own radical counsel: “Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Mt. 5:39).

The Apostle Paul would later reiterate Jesus’ teaching, saying, “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord’” (Rom. 12:17-19). Paul, too, would abide by this counsel, even unto a martyr’s death. He too was a hero.

We all have villains in our lives, and accordingly we all face temptations to take revenge, whether in big or small ways. Even if we succeed in resisting the temptation of vengeance, we will deal with the temptation to resentment and holding grudges. This is essentially mental vengeance and can be just as psychologically and morally self-destructive as vengeful action.

But practicing forgiveness is often extremely difficult. When we struggle in this area, we should keep in mind not only how Jesus modeled forgiveness but also how God used the villains in his life to advance his cause. God parleyed their wickedness into the ultimate triumphant tale. And so it goes for those who obey Jesus—in heart and mind, as well as action—despite wicked opposition. The villains end up unwittingly serving the hero’s greater good.

This is one of the profound lessons of the story of Jesus, from Christmas through Easter. And it can be the story of our lives as well, as we deliver our own villains into the hands of God by loving and forgiving them. This is the way to triumph. It is the way of the Christian hero.

On Being a Hero

When Jim and I first purchased our iPods a couple years back, making your own playlist was all the rage amongst our offspring. I can’t tell you how many seemingly endless afternoons I have spent at the computer desk as my children agonized over whether the Cake song should go before or after the Killers tune. Of course, I have made plenty of playlists myself. I have some for running, some for motivating me to get in there and clean the bathroom and some for car trips when everyone is feeling grumpy. But some playlists never make it to iTunes as they are too personal to be generated or, perish the thought, burned into actual material existence. I fear that some would seriously question my aesthetic sensibilities were I to reveal the depth of my enjoyment of the superficial.

One rather short playlist is a mental one that I doubt will ever go public. That would be my Songs-I-Could-Sing-In-Public-Only-If-Someone’s-Life-Was-Hanging-In-The-Balance (this list is very short and for some reason contains a disproportionate number of songs from the 80s.) If I were to be completely honest, as if you haven’t had enough honesty already, I would have to say that along with any visions of life-saving benefits which might be derived from my singing one of these carefully chosen ditties, there is also the fantasy of basking in a wave of Karaoke glory while onlookers sit stunned by my unknown talent.  I suppose at heart I am still that middle school adolescent, singing into her hairbrush, waiting to be discovered and admired.

Recently, as I accompanied Steve Perry in a stirring rendition of Oh Sherrie, I connected these immature delusions of grandeur with something a dear friend once said; something which was of a much deeper and more profound nature than poor Sherrie being all alone. My friend Laura is my oldest and one of my most treasured friends. A few years ago her only child was diagnosed with a serious genetic condition, requiring a bone marrow transplant and extended hospital stays. I have always known she was a person of quality and strength. After all, she has been my friend now for more years than either of us would care to admit. But during the ordeal of her son’s diagnosis and all that has followed, she has shone so brilliantly you might be tempted to look away from the light of her countenance. I mentioned this to her repeatedly and on one such occasion she said (and I paraphrase) that every woman wanted to be the heroine of some dramatic event in her life story. She felt reassured that this was her chance to be that heroine and that God was giving her the ability to not only survive but shine. Listening to her recount all the sleepless nights and endless doctor consultations was like listening to a soldier reminiscing about his days in service; though you know neither would ever what to go back, there is a bittersweet flavor to the stories.

My friend’s experience was a bit like my secret playlist, handpicked to display her best qualities and characteristics. God is, of course, shaping even the smallest events of our lives, and though they aren’t always tailored to flatter, they are always to our benefit, not to mention His glory. Just like singin’ karaoke, it’s more about accepting whatever selection you have been given than your natural abilities. Heroines (and heroes) are often those least expected to act heroically. The antagonist is the one trying to manipulate perception and circumstance to her advantage, many times having the opposite effect, while the heroine accepts whatever comes her way with humility and thus steals the show. The moral of the story? It’s less about what you sing or how you sing it and more about who you are before and after the music ends.