What’s with some Christians suddenly endorsing nuclear war? The idea pisses me off. But it doesn’t surprise me. It seems like an inevitable, given our present state.

Not that war is inevitable (though I fear it may be). But that some Christians are always making it harder on the rest of us.

And at the same time, we find comfort in seeing our differing opinions and responses to our political reality. We divide everything into twos — one for me and one for you. And then play it like a divided deck, highest card wins: War, we call it.

It’s almost like we’ve not only lost track of truth, we’ve lost track of our sanity.

How else can we explain the actual debate people are having about nuclear war. Like it’s an option.

It isn’t.

And for Christians, it isn’t even close.

I shouldn’t have to tell you that. A Christian {a pastor, for goodness’ sake!} should know that war, any war is sin. And nuclear war? I can’t even.

Christians don’t support war.

This isn’t some agree to disagree nonsense. This is straight-up Prince of Peace doesn’t dance with the devil’s bomb in the pale moonlight. Take that partisan hackery supporting a president’s authority masquerading as biblical and shove it in the trash where it belongs.

There is no reason to support nuclear war. Because Jesus doesn’t support it.

War is evil. Nuclear war is the ultimate evil. And Jesus would say as much. And if we believe the followers of Jesus are his hands and heart in the world, then Jesus is saying that right now. When we speak.

Robert Jeffress tried to use scripture to support the idea of nuclear war and many people spoke up. Many with diverse opinions reject the idea of messing with nuclear weapons or obliterating our enemies, from social justice-minded Christians to political conservatives.

Stretching the truth

But consider how much the Baptist minister tortures reality to find any justification. It speaks volumes.

There certainly is war and conflict in scripture. But we often stretch scripture about conflict to justify conflict. And let’s be honest, it’s often stretched to justify anything. Joshua’s conquering of Canaan can be stretched to endorse invasion, if we’re willing to butcher the text as easily as we endorse the butchering of people.

Jeffress stretches Romans 13 and its support for authority—the idea being world leaders are given by God to prevent tyranny—the sort of blanket support which could whitewash any leader’s decision as God-ordained. That Jeffress never said something like this about the previous president is telling of the rigors of his theology.

In light of all the defenses offered in moments like these, especially in moments like these, we must be honest. Jesus isn’t down with nuclear war. Like, at all. Not even a little.

Jesus isn’t down with war.

And we know this, not because the Bible speaks to atom-splitting power (it doesn’t and can’t), but because it condemns the kind of will to power of war-making. And many from our tradition have long strained, not to defend peacemaking, but to find exceptions for when war would be necessary.

Look at how pastors like Jeffress contort themselves to find a loophole in the text when the body and sweep of Scripture rejects it.

Christians have spent 2000 years, not with an evenly divided spirit about war and peace we can toss into our postmodern liberal and conservative world views. The Christian default is for peace. War has always been the exception.

Peace is the default, even when many Christians have been the world’s biggest proponents of violence. Or when Christians keep contorting themselves to justify their blood lust, their theology, or their economic or political preferences.

We know they aren’t speaking for Jesus because Jesus is constantly arguing against war. They are the exception.

But we’re too eager to accept the exception.

The default of Scripture, particularly in the gospels, is to not wage war. To resist the pull to violence. And it certainly doesn’t endorse aggression.

We look for exceptions in the text or traditions for defending our own support for aggression. Or we fear being attacked, so then striking first sounds like a defense. We’ve been about that for nearly two decades.

But the defense doesn’t come from Jesus or the church: its scripture, tradition, or theology. The defense comes from our willingness to make exceptions for war, partisan division, and support for national pride.

Just not Jesus.

A better example comes in Luke 9:51-56:

When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set towards Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?’ But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village.

Here’s the case of judgment, will to power, to go on offense for the Kingdom of God, and Jesus doesn’t go for it, go along with it, or indifferently non-support it. He rebukes them.

This is further telling as it comes in the part of the gospel when Jesus has lifted up his disciples, calls them apostles, and sends them out into the world to do his work. And they do!

But this story tells us much more.

It’s about these disciples going out and restoring the world. And the leaders of the world are confused by what they are doing. They feed thousands of people in Jesus’s most famous miracle and Peter comes to realize who Jesus really is. But it isn’t sweetness and roses. Jesus foretells his death and takes three disciples up a mountain for the transfiguration.

And when they come down, they find the disciples couldn’t heal a boy—the influence of the world got in their way. And they face new challenges for healing and restoring to community. Because the cultural influences are many and the obstacles all tug at their reason. Excuses start to sound rational.

That’s when they come to a foreign city which won’t accept them. So the disciples ask if they can condemn them.

Christians have taught for two thousand years that our relationship to God and one another is based in love and restoration. Hate and destruction pollute our theology and divide us. Especially the hate and destruction our culture and its leaders endorse, and our obsession with power.

Christians are people of love and restoration.

The more important thing is that Luke 9 is consistent with Christian teachings and tradition. It isn’t the exception. It doesn’t make excuses for tyranny or cause us to get all tangled up with justifications. But it shows how devoted Jesus is to loving and restoring the world, not hating and destroying it. How much he demands his followers eschew cultural power to heavenly power. And how much more we are to be peacemakers than warmakers.

We have 2000 years of tradition supporting peace and 2000 years of people trying to weasel out of doing the right thing.

And this is just the tradition on war. Nuclear war is a whole other animal. It’s far more destructive, causes incalculable collateral damage, and leads to the retaliatory positions Jesus discourages.

So we must recognize that supporting peace and making peace is our normal and war is abnormal. And we must free ourselves and one another to speak out for peace.

Peace isn’t a partisan position for Christians: it’s our mandate.

Speaking out now, more than ever, is proclaiming the gospel. What Jeffress and those Christians like him are doing is quite the opposite.