“DO YOU HAVE A SHOTGUN?”
That’s what well-meaning American men of every ethnicity ask me in jest when I express fear about my daughter becoming a teenager. This picture of a father in an undershirt with or without a gun chasing a boy out of his daughter’s bedroom, the backseat of a car, or the last row in a movie theater is supposed to communicate protection, safety, and care. The 2008 movie Taken is the extreme depiction of this reality. In it Liam Neeson’s character says this to a sex trafficker who kidnapped his daughter:
I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you’re looking for ransom, I can tell you I don’t have money. But what I do have is a very particular set of skills—skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that will be the end of it. I will not look for you. I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you. I will find you, and I will kill you.1
The voice on the other end of the phone replies, “Good luck.” This sets off a series of events that includes this papa bear shooting a corrupt police officer’s wife in front of their kids, torturing criminals for information, and wounding and killing many people. This is all in the name of liberating his daughter from those who pay to rape women and those who profit from sexual exploitation. Simply put, these special skills plus the love for his daughter equal the dismantling of a human trafficking ring and his daughter coming home. This father is deemed brave and courageous, and he became the paradigm for many young, passionate advocates who approached me at events about ending modern-day slavery. The men who watched this film downloaded the same message I did from society. The peak of bravery and courage is my ability and willingness to violently defend women. This courage and bravery multiply when men are willing to use violence and even die to protect those we deem innocent and vulnerable.
As a new abolitionist working with leaders interested in ending modern-day slavery, I spent many hours correcting this attitude in those who desired to end labor and sexual exploitation by violent means, not knowing that this same lie was rooted deeply within me.2 I say this because in response to many of the men who asked whether I had a shotgun, I replied, “No, I don’t need one,” presenting my closed fists. I was glad to affirm my willingness to participate in socially acceptable violence. These were symptoms of a deeper insecurity I had about my ability to protect my daughter from the tragedy of sexual violence and my lack of faith that Christ would be with her in every circumstance.
FEAR COMES FROM LACK OF FAITH
In his book The Deeper Journey, Robert Mulholland shares that individuals who create and project a false self must build defenses to justify and protect that perception. For example, if I want to present myself as wealthy, successful, and put together, my social media feed reflects this reality. Photos of my beautiful partner on vacation in an exotic location or a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that is yet to be discovered fill my social media profiles. I may put up photos of my latest purchases or ask for advice on the next expensive gadget I desire, not because I am looking for knowledge from the community, but because I want the community to know I’m thinking about these things. Therefore my wife and friends, along with the material things I purchase, become tools to hold together a façade I present to the world. This false projection of myself becomes my identity. Consequently, when the things that make up my identity are threatened, I must defend them because they are essential to my false self.
So, practically speaking, when I think about my daughter growing into a young woman, I am filled with anxiety that is difficult to articulate. I know she will be sexualized by society. And the profit made by the Taken film franchise and TV program verify that this fear is not unique to me.
I know that I can’t be with her at all times or protect her from every man or woman that she walks past. But to admit my fear and inability to guide and control every situation in my daughter’s life is paralyzing. So I hide behind threats about what I could do with my fists, feet, and a knife or firearm.
I must admit I feel the same about my wife and other women around me. There is so little that I can influence or control. This fear is not driven by ISIS or international terror groups but by the reality of being a woman of color in a country that doesn’t hold men or women in power accountable or protect victims of sexual violence. This is not the fear of foreign invasion or a missile strike but of abuse and violence from the police or people in our pulpits, congregations, and neighborhoods. Thus, to feel powerful and brave I want to arm my wife, daughter, and myself with some socially acceptable protections, and violence is just fine. This is not a coincidence—it’s ingrained within WAFR.
The unwavering invitation from WAFR is to pursue life, liberty, and happiness at all costs, and that includes the covert and overt actions taken to protect this way of life. Actors like Liam Neeson embody this as their fists, feet, and bullets hurt people for a seemingly just cause. The higher the level of comfort, stability, and security of my loved ones (and me), the higher my worth must be.
This builds my false self: a social tower of babel that is a reflection of my own greatness in the world. Therefore, anything that threatens life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness must be removed. Contrary to the biblical narrative, instead of being married and a father by God’s grace, these blessings are somehow linked to my hard work and personal awesomeness.
This wrong thinking means that my daughter, my wife, and all those I care for are not gifts from God made in his image, but possessions that reflect me wherever they go. And to protect my image, I must protect them. And I must protect them not because I am loving, brave, and courageous but because I am afraid. I am afraid that if they are violated it will reflect poorly on me. So to save face, I say I’m saving them. And WAFR bids me to do the same for the United States. There are certainly holy motivators for protecting one’s family, but those were not at work in my case.
As Puritan leader and future governor of Massachusetts John Winthrop said circa 1630, “[We] are a city on a hill,” linking this new country to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5).3 That would become the United States’ supposed covenant with God to be his beacon of freedom, prosperity, democracy, and a place where all people can achieve their economic potential. And thus, with a God-ordained destiny to fulfill, citizens must at all costs fight to protect their peace, prosperity, and freedom as defined by the framers of this nation. This “Christian” white nationalism is un-Christian, unbiblical, and antithetical to the Jesus of Scripture but core to WAFR. This belief and its practices are toxic, tragic, and unfortunately still in operation today. There is no other place where this lie about bravery and its link to violence is more destructive than in the treatment of American military service members, law enforcement officers, their families, and those who engage in this false bravery and the praise they receive for it from nearby and worldwide.
One Thanksgiving I asked my father why he went to Vietnam. He began by describing the segregation that existed in Prince Edward County, where he grew up. Farmville is famous for its role in providing plaintiffs for Brown v. the Board of Education. This landmark decision made it illegal to segregate American schools based on skin color. But just because something is illegal doesn’t mean it doesn’t continue. Thus, at nine years old my dad became part of what is known as “The Lost Generation,” losing five years of his education to white leaders who refused to integrate schools. Instead they rerouted public funds to start private schools for white children, which exist to this day. This is chronicled in the Robert Russa Moton High School Building, now a national landmark and museum dedicated to studying civil rights and education.4
My dad went into the military due to the poverty of opportunity, community, and the systemic racism that crushed his spirit and separated his siblings. It looks like his military service was compelled less by bravery and more by desperation. Nevertheless, he explained that he wished that he had become an officer, but that would have meant another tour in Vietnam. My aunt Rebecca said to him at the prospect of another trip overseas, “If you go to a well ninety-nine times and nothing happens, you may not want to go again” meaning that if he went back to Vietnam he could be killed. He did not return.
On his face though, I could see that he wondered, But what if? “I wonder what it’s like to walk into a room as a four-star general,” he said, sitting up a little straighter.
I was silent in response but thought to myself, I imagine it’s the opposite of what happened when he tried to walk to school six decades ago. The same man that heard “thank you for your service” as he received a free cup of coffee at McDonald’s was just a grown-up boy looking for significance and acknowledgment of his humanity, experience, and potential. As I sat in the passenger side of his car two hours later listening to the words of “Nearer, My God, to Thee” as sung by the Soul Stirrers, he said, “That explains it all.”5
The words of this old gospel song gave voice to a life punctuated by suffering and a search for purpose, identity, and enduring peace. This song’s expression of faith and emotion gave him strength for the journey. This is a journey that all of us are on, hoping to reach the same destination though we are headed in different directions. My father, who is still wandering, closed his eyes under the brim of his VFW cap and nodded his head to the music.
SEARCHING FOR PURPOSE AND PEACE
Material poverty, lack of opportunity, and systemic racism may not be the leading motivations for joining the military today, but minorities, women, and impoverished regions of America are targets for recruitment and bear the human cost of war disproportionately when compared to urban, wealthier areas.6 It’s unlikely, though, that demographics and socioeconomics are the ultimate drivers for enlistment, especially as half of all recruits today are from households with incomes of $50,000 or more in America.7 So, the true bait before my father was the same that led me to the USS Intrepid recruitment station while contemplating my own future. “The Few, the Proud, the Brave” spoke to something within me too.
I remember feeling respected when I told people where I was going to interview. I was treated like I was important in front of the recruiter. It felt good to be seen as having the potential to be an officer or even a pilot. I felt affirmed being perceived as someone who was unafraid of danger as opposed to someone who could be dangerous. Perhaps my dad felt the same the first time he put on a uniform and walked onto a ship or looked down on the land of Jim Crow from a transport plane.
The wake-up call came for me, though, when I realized that my bravery and valor would be joined with my ability and willingness to commit acts of violence in obedience to my commanding officers in the name of the values and priorities of the US government. This bravery may include the ultimate sacrifice of my life for the government-determined greater good of the American people. This is strikingly similar to how the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob depicts bravery in the book of Joshua and how Paul describes Jesus in Philippians 2.
PICTURES OF BRAVERY AND COURAGE
God made God-size promises to Joshua in Joshua 1:1-9. Most notably, God laid out what it would be mean for Joshua to be bold and brave. Then, because of his obedient faithfulness to the promises of God, he was promised victory and land for the Israelites. He need only trust God and do the things God commanded, and just as God was with Moses, he would be with Joshua.
Moses heard from God and walked closely with the Lord. He spent extraordinary amounts of time with Joshua, and it’s likely his death left a void in Joshua’s life. Deuteronomy 34:8 says that Israel mourned for thirty days upon the death of Moses. But in keeping with what Joshua was commanded, he began to lead the Israelites on the next stage of this journey. We witness Joshua’s courage, not necessarily by leading the Israelites into battle and victory but by obeying God and receiving victory through God’s provision.
This is clear as Joshua took the city of Jericho. Instead of devising plans to breach Jericho’s famous walls, Joshua sought the Lord, and the walls fell because of his obedience to God:
So the people shouted, and priests blew the trumpets; and when the people heard the sound of the trumpet, the people shouted with a great shout and the wall fell down flat, so that the people went up into the city, every man straight ahead, and they took the city (Joshua 6:20)
This was not a victory centered on the military might of Israel but on reverence for the living God. This is made clear when juxtaposed with what happened when the Israelites attempted to take the city of Ai (Joshua 7). They were soundly defeated after scouting the land, not because of their inability to fight but because of their sin and disobedience. God responds to Joshua’s prayers and lament for the thirty-six men that were killed, explaining that Israel has sinned against God, violated the covenant, and must repent or continue to fight in vain without the presence of God (Joshua 7:11-13).
Later we read that Achan had stolen a mantle, silver, and gold from Ai and buried them near his tent. This was in direct disobedience to Joshua who gave the commands from God for how Jericho was to be taken, along with a warning if they disobeyed (Joshua 7:18-19). Achan was in the crowd when Joshua confronted him. He was not ignorant of his disobedience but confessed his sin to Joshua and those assembled (Joshua 7:20-21).
After this confession and punishment, God confirmed that Joshua and the Israelites were ready to take Ai. In their obedience to God the Israelites were victorious against the Amorites. Because Joshua was leading a military conquest, it is easy to conflate his bravery with violence, yet that it not the focus of the passage. The eternal message from Joshua that endures to this day is the importance of obedience to God above all, even when it is costly and difficult.
In historical context, the Israelites practiced obedience by being in lockstep with God as they stayed behind his cloud during the day and behind his fire at the night as they wandered in the desert (Exodus 13:21). And their obedience continued after the destruction of Ai because Joshua and the people did not build an altar for him or a structure bearing his name. Instead, they gave glory, honor, and focus to God and his precepts (Joshua 8:30-35).
Their victory is a testament to the faithfulness of God and his trustworthiness to fulfill his promises, not the military leadership of Joshua. Thus, Joshua is not remembered for his bravery, but for his obedience in faith to God the Father (Hebrews 11:30).
This mirrors Paul’s description of Christ in Philippians 2:1-11. Just as Joshua was called to obedience, so was Christ. Jesus didn’t simply lay down his life but was sent by the Father as an atonement for our sin and to reconcile all of creation to God. This obedience to God the Father out of loving reverence is the definition of courage and a picture of bravery in Scripture. Accordingly, to be bold and courageous is not to act in individual or collective self-interest, but to love sacrificially, even and especially toward those who wish to harm us or those we care about. Moreover, to be bold and courageous is to turn away from the sin of pride that places our goals, views, and desires above those of God.
This is the bravery that stands in stark contrast to the bravery of WAFR. It is impossible to obey the King of the universe and the commander-in-chief of the US military in situations that place the Constitution in conflict with Holy Scripture. It is impossible for me to claim full trust and reliance on God as my refuge and strong tower while arming myself to keep all I have safe. WAFR commands me to preserve myself, my country, and our way of life. Conversely, Jesus says that whoever tries to keep their life will lose it (Luke 17:33). We can take pride in our country and the kingdom, but our allegiance cannot be to both. The two are not one and the same. My identity can’t be rooted in earthly authority and founded by God at the same time.
Jesus said, “No one can serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24). This is in line with the first commandment, where God decrees, “You shall have no other gods before Me” (Exodus 20:3). We see this in the life of Daniel, who was trafficked from his home along with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and forced to assimilate into the Babylonian culture. He did nothing disrespectful and didn’t harm those who harmed him. But when Daniel was told to bow down to an idol, he did not bend his knee. Similarly, though Esther was kidnapped and sexually exploited by King Xerxes, she advocated for her people yet still yielded to the authority of Yahweh and challenged the patterns of her captors. Her resistance was in response to God’s beckoning, not her own fear, pain, or anger. This is also true of Nehemiah, Joseph, and many other biblical characters who chose obedience to God and disobedience to the status quo.
These passages came to life for me when I sat with a childhood friend whose husband had slept with his coworker. Her pain was palpable. Betrayal hung in the air like an invisible fog that clouded my judgment and perception of goodness. As she shared her story, I was incensed. I literally had to walk away. She expressed that she was afraid to tell me because of what I might do. Her hesitation was correct. I had no godly thoughts in mind. Here was my opportunity to be violent, and I wanted to take it. I felt completely justified in shattering her husband’s nose. My plan was to invite him to our home and, before he crossed the threshold of our door, I would punch him in the face.
But revenge was not in her heart. This woman did not want me to fight her husband but to fight for her marriage through prayer and by being present with them. Before I was able to promise that, I had to sit in the presence of God.
WHAT DO BRAVERY AND COURAGE LOOK LIKE?
While reflecting, I was reminded of a man who confessed to me that he visits brothels while a young man in Fuzhou, China. He wept as he said that the last time he was there, the teenage girl that he just paid to rape looked at him and said, “Please don’t ever do this again.” He put on his pants and left feeling disgusted with himself. I imagined this moment a hundred times before. Prior to this, I envisioned myself putting someone like him in his place verbally and physically. He should feel some sense of the pain that he inflicted. And I get to be the one to do it. Right?
Wrong. The gospel of Christ compelled me to do otherwise.
The same is true of a young man who approached me after an event about sex trafficking. His father was a pimp, and his earliest sexual encounters had been with the women his dad claimed as property. He had even gone to a strip club the night before and recruited a young woman who was ready to sell herself for him. “It’s all I know how to do,” he said with his head down, awaiting something other than the embrace of God I gave to him. Both of these men, after hearing of the radical, compassionate love of Jesus and my own story of redeemed sexuality, desired to be set free and transformed.
While with these three people, I had to lay down my version of courage and WAFR’s vision of bravery. Life is not an action flick, and I am not Liam Neeson but instead I’m a follower of Jesus living as a citizen of a different kingdom. So, the first time I met my friend’s unfaithful husband, I had to hug him. And to this day, in private I pray for him to be led out of temptation and into a life with Jesus. I also ask God to give me a heart to move toward and not away from him, conscious of the fact I too am a sinner saved by grace.
Similarly, I did not chastise or humiliate the young student from Fuzhou. I did not leverage my community and government connections to find the fourteen-year-old girl he exploited and put him in prison in his own country. I wept with him, prayed with him, and welcomed him into the family of God the same way Ashley Byrd welcomed me when I wanted out of my addiction to porn and sexual exploitation to follow Jesus. I suggested a plan for him that included community, accountability, and a calling not to attempt to rid himself of guilt and shame but to accept the freedom afforded to him by Jesus.
I invited that son of a pimp to become the Son of the original abolitionist, the author of freedom, and to join the household under Christ. Instead of hitting him, I hugged him. Since “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1), he would not receive condemnation from me.
WAFR commands that I give these men what’s coming to them and repay them at least equal the evil that they have done; Jesus commands the opposite. Obedience to the “prince of the power of the air” (Ephesians 2:2), and in keeping with the spirit of the age, would mean violence, retaliation, social rejection, and indefinite restitution. In keeping with Liam Neeson’s Taken character and the psyche of WAFR, I would be called brave and courageous had I done these things—and I am condemned by it since I did not.
These things are set against the call to emulate Christ and his costly love and compassionate justice. Grace and mercy are the patterns of the kingdom of God. God and humanity define bravery differently. Both cannot be right.
Therefore, if Jesus is Lord, true bravery is radical obedience and mercy-filled submission to the love of Christ out of an identity truly rooted in him. There is no need to build, project, or protect a false self, because my individual and our collective identities are fixed and unchanging. The call for followers of Jesus and those discipled out of WAFR is the same as it was to Joshua:
This book of the law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it; for then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have success. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go. (Joshua 1:8-9)
For those who are children of God, the call to courage is to emulate Christ in sacrificial obedience to our good Father. The apostle Paul’s conclusion stands in opposition to the dominant narrative peddled by the media and movie producers and perpetuated by our military-industrial complex and militarized police forces. Paul implores followers of Jesus to
make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. . . .
Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world. (Philippians 2:2-4, 14-15)
WAFR contends that bravery is the willingness to be violent—to destroy an enemy at all costs or violate core principles of a self-determined greater good. Contrary to that, bravery for followers of Jesus is an unwavering trust in the profound love of God and the willingness to love sacrificially at all times. Jesus’ love drives out all fear, and his abiding presence gives us courage by the power of the Holy Spirit, who dwells among us. When we do not live under the ultimate protection of God, we strive to protect ourselves, risk nothing, and use violence to maintain control.
The followers of WAFR are gripped by the lie that they are the most courageous people on the planet, yet what is actually at work is fear, anxiety, and collective insecurity. WAFR says that Jesus, who commands “Do not let your heart be troubled,” (John 14:1) isn’t trustworthy because a good guy with a gun or an airstrike isn’t on the way. But we who profess Christ say the Lord and his Word alone are trustworthy because Christ is King. Even if we die, we will share in the resurrection. To live and love at all costs is true bravery. People unwavering in their obedience to God, even in the face of violence and suffering, are truly brave.
QUESTIONS FOR INDIVIDUAL REFLECTION AND SMALL GROUP DISCUSSION
What were your dominant feelings as you read this chapter: curiosity, hope, surprise, confusion, numbness, familiarity, distance, or something else?
When were those feelings most present?
What phrases, stories, or historical events resonated with you?
What events or narratives were you unaware of? What did you learn?
Where do you disagree or have concerns?
What questions are you carrying?
REWRITING THE SCRIPTS WE TELL OURSELVES
Many of us grow up with scripts we tell ourselves that are often unhelpful and even destructive. I interpreted from my culture and family that if I expressed fear, sadness, or pain, I was weak.
What scripts from your home or your culture have you heard about weakness?
What did your family and friends believe about people who were seen as weak or unable to defend themselves?
What did it look like in your family or culture to be brave and courageous?
How does God define bravery (review Joshua’s, Esther’s, or Paul’s description of Jesus)?
As you begin to redefine bravery, where do you believe God is calling you and what does that look like practically?
□ to be bold and courageous like Joshua
□ to lay down your life like Jesus
□ to be an advocate for the marginalized like Esther