To love others necessarily means you will love the social, political and environmental conditions that allows others to flourish as human beings. When those conditions are threatened by individuals who do not love (enemies or not) then sometimes violence is a necessary means of protecting the conditions that allow love to flourish among people of good will. Violence can be appropriate and even necessary. Let’s not be dogmatic about this, Belorg!
From Matthew 5:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth. 39
But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. 40 And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.
This a hard teaching but, then again, so is the teaching against divorce, or against having adulterous thoughts. Jesus is specifically *amending *the law of Moses; it is pointed and deliberate.
And his own death was precisely an example of this teaching; he did not fight violence with violence, even though he could have. Peter, even, tried to fight for him, and Christ said, “those who live by the sword, will die by the sword.” Peter’s would have been the ultimate just war cause – defending the very person of Christ himself.
But it goes further than that, even. Peter and Paul, and countless other Christians, died a martyr’s death. They did not stage an insurrection or try to resist using violence. They would have been justified in doing so; after all, theirs was the true religion, and the others, those who were persecuting them, were in error. It is clear from their lives and their deaths that Christ’s comportment before his persecutors was not understood to have been meant for himself, only; it was also meant for those who would follow him (Matthew 16: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 25 For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. 26 What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” So they followed him, even to Golgotha.
It would seem foolish – indeed, suicidal (and, in effect, it was). From a pagan perspective, Christian martyrdom was stupidity. But, as Paul said, “God made the weak things of this world to put to shame the strong; God made the foolish things of this world to put to shame the wise” (1 Corinthians, 1:27).
Even when Jesus says, “love your enemies”, he is not–as Catholics have pointed out, time and again, in other contexts – talking about “a feeling”, but about action and conduct as well. If I love my enemies
as I love my friends, then I will treat them similarly. I will not love my friends, while embracing them; while, at the same time, loving my enemies, but in striking them down, or killing them. That is not “resist not evil” and “turn the other cheek,” either.
If this doesn’t work; if it is impossible; then it is Christ who counsels the impossible, and who did not adequately think of all possible scenarios in which I would be asked to love my enemy. He did not hedge his own bets; he allowed himself to be tortured and killed, and did not raise his hand to his persecutors (nor strike them dead). Instead he said, “forgive them” (“bless those who curse you; pray for those who persecute you”). He never once told his disciples
not to consider him a morally definitive example in all things, and the fates of Peter and Paul testify to this.
Tertullian was very clear on this, as well: “For even if soldiers came to John and received advice on how to act, and even if a centurion became a believer,
the Lord, in subsequently disarming Peter, disarmed every soldier.”