(The first of two posts on Rom 12:14-21.)  My memory of cinematic history may be a bit off, but it seems to me the early 70s was a curious time for movie heroes.  Then, we were coming out of the idealism and disillusionment of the 60s, and the country was still mired in an unpopular and ambiguous war.  Long gone were the days of virtuous cowboys in white hats, reluctantly dispatching their black-hatted foes.  These, rather, were the days of Clint Eastwood’s “Dirty Harry” Callahan, the guy you had to root for because he was better than the psychotic serial killer he was hunting.

Then, in 1977, George Lucas’ Star Wars unabashedly gave us back the good guys and the bad guys.  In this corner: young, idealistic, innocent Luke Skywalker, all dressed in white.  In this corner: Darth Vader, all dressed in black, the mysterious and faceless embodiment of the Dark Side, complete with heavy breathing.

To me, this first installment (albeit Episode IV!) of the franchise still ranks as the best of the lot, for its gleefully archetypal storytelling, a fairy tale on film.  I had already graduated from college by that point, but went to see it with my best friend from high school.  We came out of the theater ready to take on the Empire.  It’s a good thing the car wasn’t equipped with blasters.

The only ambiguous character in the story was Han Solo.  You wanted him to be one of the good guys, but when he deserted Luke and the Rebel Alliance in their hour of need, he came off as just another self-centered mercenary.  Even the Wookiee had more empathy.

And then, the climactic scene.  Luke is the Alliance’s last hope, the only one left who can destroy the dreaded Death Star.  Vader has Luke in his gunsights: “I have you now.”  Then in swoops the cavalry: Han Solo appears from out of nowhere, blasts Vader out of the sky–and the theater audience goes nuts with ecstasy.  The one ambiguous piece of the puzzle falls neatly into place: See, Han is a good guy after all!  Take that, Dirty Harry.

There is something primal about the distinction of good versus evil.  We feel it in our soul.  It’s the larger narrative background for our own smaller stories: we are co-workers with God in his ongoing project of restoring a good creation that has been spoiled by sin and evil.  Already in Romans 12, in the context of teaching about the meaning of love, Paul has commanded that we should hate evil and cling tenaciously to the good (vs. 9).  He ends the chapter on the same note:

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse.  Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.  Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.  Do not be conceited.  Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone.  If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.  Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.  On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”  Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.  (Rom 12:14-21, NIV)

Paul wants to remind the Romans of the bigger picture and its practical implications: You know what God is doing, and you’re supposed to be on his side.  So don’t stoop to the standards and behaviors of an evil world; transcend them.  Don’t curse your enemies, bless them.  Don’t look for the payback.  Don’t take revenge.  Don’t do these things, because you’d be letting evil win.  That’s not God’s plan.  In every way possible, do things God’s way; return good for evil, and the Lord will overcome.

But “overcoming evil with good” doesn’t mean going after the bad guys with blasters and light sabers.  Retribution isn’t okay just because it’s the good guy pulling the trigger.  The overcoming is peaceful and mundane.  Be compassionate.  Live in harmony.  Be humble.  Do the right thing.

It wouldn’t make for a very exciting movie.

Jesus told his disciples that their love for one another would be their distinguishing mark (John 13:35).  But he also taught that the love Christians show to their enemies is just as important a witness:

You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.  He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.  If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?  And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?  Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.  (Matt 5:43-48, NIV)

Loving your friends is nothing special; everyone does it.  Loving your enemies?  That defies common wisdom and every religious rationalization.  Nevertheless, it’s how the children of this God demonstrate their family likeness.

We live in a war zone; the battle between good and evil rages both visibly and invisibly about us.  Paul tells us to choose sides: choose good, choose God.  Thankfully, the eventual outcome of the war is already known, even if we find ourselves in uncertain skirmishes.  We’re to arm ourselves not with hatred, but with love; not with weapons of violence, but with compassion, humility, patience, and faith.

We can see this as the abdication of power, or as submission to the only real power that matters, the only real power that saves.  It’s our choice.

Paul says, choose good.  Choose God.

Lord, without your help, I won’t make the right choice.  Make the vision of your kingdom more compelling to me than any fantasy of my own power.  Overcome the evil in me, that I might more consistently choose the way of humility and compassion.  In Jesus’ name and for his sake, amen.