Some have even fought prolonged legal battles to preserve the lives of those who murdered their loved one—often in opposition to prosecutors and judges who were ostensibly “seeking justice” for the very family working against the goal of capital punishment.
To be sure, these feelings are not universal among families of murder victims, and some family members want the person who took the life of their loved one to face execution. However, Claiborne writes, “There is something powerful about the consistency of being against all killing, both legal and illegal, since any time a life is taken, that event creates new victims and trauma.”
To me, this sentiment resonates deeply with the perspective shared by early church theologians.
“Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all,” says the Apostle Paul. “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.’”
These words might seem like too high a call in the face of the worst thing someone could have ever done to you. We might feel tempted to spiritualize away how extreme they are. I certainly do.
But the Lord is just. And it’s worth noting that following the first murder in recorded history, God did not give Cain the death penalty. Maybe our sense of justice too can accommodate not killing killers.
We Worship an Executed Savior
Through the centuries, theologians have debated about different theories of atonement. That is, what exactly did Jesus accomplish when he died on the cross—and how?
Those discussions are as rich as they are important. Nevertheless, writes Claiborne, “Before we get to the theological implications of Christ’s death and resurrection, we first have to recognize this: Jesus was given the death penalty and executed.”
We worship an executed savior.
Jesus was the (willing) victim of the greatest injustice in human history. And yet even as he was led to the cross, Jesus did not curse those who were murdering him. Instead, he prayed for their forgiveness. Even those who would murder God himself did not draw a violent response from Jesus.
And it was in his execution that Jesus defeated death—the ultimate punishment and the final enemy. The value that God assigned to human life is so great that Jesus his Son laid down his own life to save it.
Who are we to take away something so precious, even from the worst among us?
“It is precisely by his death that Jesus reveals all the splendor and value of life, inasmuch as his self-oblation on the Cross becomes the source of new life for all people,” writes Pope John Paul II. “Truly great must be the value of human life if the Son of God has taken it up and made it the instrument of the salvation of all humanity.”
On the very night Jesus would endure an unjust trial, he rebuked Peter’s use of violence, saying, “All who take the sword will perish by the sword.”
In that moment, Peter would rather kill for Jesus than die for Jesus. This was made evident hours later when Peter denied even knowing Jesus, lest he suffer the same fate as his rabbi.
But after Jesus’ resurrection, the opposite was true. We never again see Peter unsheathe his sword. Instead he willingly, joyfully, accepts beatings, imprisonment, and ultimately death at the hands of those to whom he preached the message of life.
The same could be said of the early church. When faced with torture and death for themselves and those whom they loved, early Christians did not lift a finger in violence. And in doing so, they changed the world.
It might feel upside down. It bristles against our nature. But what if the key to addressing violence in our day is not more violence, but a sense of justice that maintains the value of human dignity—even the human dignity of those who reject it?
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