“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” (Romans 12:18).
This advice from the apostle Paul has stood the test of time, guiding us today with the same wisdom. Yet, it comes with a condition for peaceful coexistence of Christians everywhere with their fellowmen: it must depend on the individual—it must be possible to the extent that a Christian’s will and conscience allow it. But what happens when it no longer depends entirely on them? What if their Christian conscience compels them to take a different stance, to distance themselves from wrongdoing, “as far as it depends on” them, even at the cost of disrupting harmony with those around them?
The Christian’s guide
That guide is, unquestionably, the Bible—though it has often been contested. I recall the election campaign of former U.S. President Barack Obama, who emphasised his deep familiarity and appreciation for both the Bible and the Quran. Yet, in a later speech, he suggested that the Sermon on the Mount was not particularly useful when it came to matters of justice in politics. In other words, the idea of a Christian guide may be accepted in theory, but in practice, it is often disregarded or deemed inapplicable to real-world situations.
For many, the Bible has become little more than a physical prop, placed unopened beneath the hands of officials as they take their oaths of office. It is no longer seen as a guiding light for conduct, but rather as a wall—the very wall of sin that separates people from God (Isaiah 59:2). Even the act of swearing an oath, barely touching the Bible, reveals a shift from genuine Christian faith to mere superstition—much like how children play at making promises while secretly crossing their fingers behind their backs, believing it frees them from any obligation. It’s a child’s game—played by both the young and the adults.
But in what way is the Bible truly a practical guide for moral and civic conduct? Doesn’t it ask too much of us—something impossible to uphold in today’s world?
A strong criterion for evaluating situations and responding in a Christian manner is to assess whether what is being asked of us contradicts or even directly opposes a moral principle or law established by God through His revealed Word. In other words, we are called to give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God—except in cases where Caesar stands against God or seeks to take His place (Matthew 22:21; 1 Thessalonians 2:4).
When it comes to the Ten Commandments, the choice often seems clearer: one must choose not to kill, even if that decision comes with consequences when society, a group, a community, or an individual demands otherwise. A striking example of this unwavering moral stance is found in the story of Desmond Doss, a non-combatant soldier who, despite refusing to take a life, went on to save 75—both fellow soldiers and enemy combatants—earning the highest military honor in the United States after World War II.
But how does one avoid taking part in “the fruitless deeds of darkness,” as the apostle Paul urges, and instead expose them (Ephesians 5:11)? How does one resist sitting “in the company of mockers,” avoid walking “in step with the wicked,” and refrain from aligning with them, as Psalm 1 warns? And how does one fulfill the call to act justly (Psalm 1:1; Micah 6:8)?
From the heroic example of Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer, I have come to understand that we have a duty to act when a just law or order is replaced by a worse one. We must stand on the side of justice, truth, and goodness—even though all authorities are ultimately permitted by God (2 Chronicles 20:6). A Christian who witnesses oppression, injustice, deceit, violence, or theft and remains silent becomes complicit.
The Guide is clear: a Christian is shaped in this world as a citizen of the future heavenly order. He does not postpone righteous conduct until that order arrives but must live it out here and now—often at great personal cost—so that he may be found worthy of Heaven.
The Christian’s path
As is often the case in practice, the question arises of how to respond—what method a Christian should use to take a stand for Good. One may disagree with the methods chosen by some, such as conspiracies or violent acts, yet a clear stance against evil in any form must still be expressed. In a world of complex connections and interactions, remaining silent amounts to complicity.
If we sometimes hold to the biblical image that the Way is a person—the Saviour Himself—but struggle to translate that into a practical course of action, we are not left without guidance. Even if we do not know exactly how Christ would have reacted in every situation of our daily lives, we do know the principle: hate the sin, but love the sinner (Matthew 5:43-48). Love for others clarifies what must be done. Loving the sinner does not mean concealing his wrongdoing to spare him discomfort; rather, it means making him aware of it—because his ultimate good, the salvation of his soul, is at stake. It means respecting him as a fallen neighbour who, like you, has the same opportunity for redemption until their last moment through repentance and the same share in the Father’s love.
At the same time, a Christian must not “cause anyone to stumble” (Galatians 5:11) on the Way given to all believers—nor should others cause them to stumble. It is crucial to remember that stumbling blocks are defined in relation to the Way itself, not in relation to a comfortable life, the evasion of moral standards and laws of the city one lives in, or the manipulation of others for personal gain. To accommodate sin rather than reject it is to encourage it. As Father Galeriu emphasised, “If you do not express both feelings—hatred for sin and love for the sinner—with equal intensity, you will be guilty of failing to correct your neighbour and of encouraging them in sin.”
The concrete social context
I replied that I understand forgiveness as a Christian attitude toward an individual who has wronged one personally. However, it does not apply in the same way to groups that violate the rules and laws essential for peaceful coexistence. When such rules are broken, consequences must follow, and it is our duty to uphold them—otherwise, we risk descending into chaos.
When he argued that chaos and division were being caused by some of the protesters, I responded that I fail to see how we can find harmony through the acceptance of corruption. And I still believe this: if that is the price of harmony, then it is not one worth paying.
There have been cases where the families of murder victims have chosen to forgive the perpetrator, in the true Christian sense. But that has never meant that the state should then suspend the punishment for the crime.
There are countless metaphors that could illustrate our current situation, but perhaps one of the clearest is that of a surgical operation to remove a disease, a tumor, something harmful. How can we resign ourselves to a growing evil that affects us all, when we have the power to stop or at least reduce it—precisely because it is within our ability to act?
Can a single individual forgive the theft committed by many, a wrongdoing that affects entire generations? Just because such theft is vague and impersonal does not make it any less serious. A lynching, too, can be vague and impersonal, but that does not mean it is not a sin or that it has no perpetrators. The same applies to theft—it violates the Eighth Commandment and remains a sin, even when the victim is the impersonal entity of the State, which holds the wealth of all. Moreover, if wrongdoers were simply forgiven without consequence, they would be deprived of the opportunity to repent for their sin and would remain under divine judgment.
In response to the flawed argument that “the others, the other camp” are also corrupt and go unpunished, common sense dictates that wrongdoing, regardless of who commits it, should be discouraged and eradicated whenever it is within our power to do so. Arguments based on precedent or widespread practice do not hold weight when it comes to violating sound moral principles or just laws. Scripture urges us not to conform to the corruption of the times, not to be worldly—no matter how much society decays or how little respect for the law remains (Romans 12:2).
Beyond the standard of law, we must also consider the complex, yet healthy, standard of Christian morality. We must not sidestep this. It is precisely because stealing is, first and foremost, a moral transgression that it has been codified into laws binding for all citizens, with corresponding punishments for those who break them.
The power of the Christian
If we now have a clearer sense of the guide we should follow and the path we should walk, the next step is to seek the most fitting way—one inspired from above—to do so. This is where the fruit of the Spirit, or the lack thereof, becomes evident in our hearts.
Do we, as Christians today, in this country, embody gentleness and kindness? Do we practice patience? Do we judge matters with faithfulness? But most importantly, do we have Christian love in our hearts?
Anyone who desires to be, to become, and to remain a child of God must draw strength from divine love in order to be a source of love toward others. There is no other power. Without it, any other approach to action is mere hypocrisy, emotional frailty, or a crippled effort that will ultimately cause us to “grow weary and lose heart” as the tireless Paul put it (Hebrews 12:3).
If we understand that divine love is the model we are called to cultivate within ourselves—the source of strength for every good deed—then we will neither stray from the Way nor lose sight of the Guide. We will not waver to the left or right; we will not pour passion into situations that require discernment; we will not waste time splitting hairs when what is needed is courage, compassion, or action. We will not complain about others while excusing ourselves. We will not fall into temptation, resort to insults, or show partiality. We will not invoke God’s name in messages of protest, threats, or public curses.
At the same time, we will not expect from the world what can only come from Him: the peace of the soul. Those who have experienced this peace—its calmness, clarity, kindness, serenity, comfort, encouragement, gentleness, joy, and rest—know the way a Christian is called to act, the strength it provides, and its immense blessings.
Let us try to view ourselves as a society from the higher perspective of the perfect, divine society—the ideal we strive toward. When we do, we will become better citizens and better neighbours to one another. From above, the passions that push us into opposing “camps” seem naïve, powerless, and pitiful—artificially radicalised, distorted into a simplistic battle where “our side is good, intelligent, and righteous, while their side is bad, foolish, and wicked.”
Yet Scripture warns us that even calling someone a “fool” is a sin (Matthew 5:22). How much greater, then, is our sin before God and against our own souls when we lose our love—the very essence of our divine identity?
