“We live in a world – the real world, Jake – that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power. These are the iron laws of the world that have existed since the beginning of time.” – Stephen Miller, White House deputy chief of staff, to journalist Jake Tapper
Miller is not wrong, exactly. These laws have ruled the world since the beginning of time.It’s just that he and others like him make a rookie mistake by utterly failing to consider a different wisdom that has been in-breaking for millennia now.
The consequences of these “iron laws” are clear: deadly, most likely illegal, strikes on boats in the Caribbean; unwarranted arrests, detentions and deportations; beatings and summary executions on our city streets; uncountable assaults on the protected rights of citizens, and on truth itself. The current administration’s obsession with “iron laws” has weakened the NATO alliance that has promoted global stability for 70 years. They are tearing away at the possibility of peace and freedom for Ukraine, are causing questionable outcomes in Gaza and threaten to tilt Iran further into chaos. The Bulletin of Atomic Scientists recently put the hands of the Doomsday clock at 85 seconds to midnight –the nearest ever to global catastrophe.
It is not exaggeration to say the world stands at the brink of disaster. Nor is it exaggeration to say there is another way. Referencing Czech dissident-turned-President Vaclav Havel during a speech in Davos recently, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney reminded the world that the illusion of power is only sustained by “everyone’s willingness to perform as if it were true.” Once the people of any nation refuse to be complicit with the lie, he said, “When even one person stops performing … the illusion begins to crack.”
Jesus put it this way in Matthew’s Gospel:
“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your diakonos, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your doulos; just as the Son of Man came not be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
Even in Greek, we recognize the words diakonos and doulos. We know what deacons and doulas do. Deacons care for the needs of the most vulnerable. Doulas accompany mothers through the dangers of childbirth. So, let’s look at scriptural evidence of the impact of a couple of doulas and a deacon.
In the first chapter of Exodus, two Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, chose noncooperation with an authoritarian monarch to toss a spoke in the wheel of his genocidal plans. They refused orders to murder newborn male Hebrew children by telling authorities –wink, wink –that the babies’ mothers were so robust the children were being born before the midwives arrived.
In chapter six of the Acts of the Apostles we hear about Stephen the deacon, martyred in the first century by authorities who “could not withstand the wisdom and the spirit with which he spoke.” Trumped-up charges were manufactured and he was executed by stoning. A religious nationalist by the name of Saul of Tarsus held the cloaks of the executioners.
Shiphrah, Puah and Stephen, and ultimately Saul (soon enough known as Paul) all refused cooperation with evil. Their actions sprang from their commitment to discipline and personal sacrifice commensurate with their consciences’ call to justice and truth. By refusing violence, they unmasked the lies of the powerful, revealed the rot of authoritarian power, and reclaimed agency for their communities.
We can do the same, fully aware, of course, that noncooperation with evil and nonviolent resistance are what brought Jesus to the cross.
Dare I say, we already find within our community those who resist evil. There are groups and individuals providing mutual aid to immigrants and others, those who accompany asylum seekers to their court appointments, those who deliver groceries to families afraid to go out. There must be many dozens of people stocking mini-pantries and serving at shelters. Hundreds show up at protests and rallies, choosing nonviolent behavior and speech, joy and community over the cynical machinations of power. If you know anyone like that, then you already know someone refusing to perform “as if” the power of the so-called powerful will have the final word.
We have not yet, to paraphrase the letter to the Hebrews, resisted to the point of shedding blood, though it may be required of us some day, as one Episcopal bishop on the East Coast recently reminded his priests.
By standing together, steadfast in our opposition to the abuse of power and to lies that masquerade as truth, by remaining nonviolent in our resistance and our speech, then, absolutely, another, better world is possible. From this truth we can take solace as we seek our own courage and discern our own calls.
“Hold on, hold on my dear ones” the singing resistance chants in Minneapolis streets, “Here comes the dawn.”
Sister Beth Murphy, OP, is the director of communication for the Dominican Sisters of Springfield.
While the spiritual nobility of the “deacon” is admirable, dismissing the “iron laws” of force ignores the brutal reality that order must inevitably precede justice. The vulnerable populations the author seeks to protect can only flourish behind a security shield maintained by the very strength and deterrence this text decries. History repeatedly demonstrates that when democratic nations abandon these hard realities, they do not birth peace, but rather create power vacuums quickly filled by tyrants who respond only to superior firepower, not moral example. Ultimately, these “iron laws” are not the enemy of the good, but the harsh, structural foundation required for any free society to survive long enough to practice virtue.