Love vs. Vengeance Theme Analysis

Everywhere, the Jews went about their business, paying no attention. The boy who had lived for five years in the solitude of the mountain, nursing his hatred and keeping it ever fresh, could not credit his own eyes. How could these city people endure to be reminded on every hand of their own helplessness? More shameful still, he saw merchants joking with the soldiers. He could not understand. Where was their pride? Had they forgotten altogether? If Rosh were here he would open their eyes. Why did that Jesus do nothing?

“God is my strong refuge,
and has made my way safe.
He made my feet like hinds’ feet,
and set me secure on the heights.
He trains my hands for war,
so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.”

“It couldn't really be bronze,” said Daniel, puzzled. “The strongest man could not bend a bow of bronze.”

“No,” Thacia spoke. “I think it was really bronze. I think David meant a bow that a man couldn't bend—that when God strengthens us we can do something that seems impossible.”

The other mighty ones had lived and fought in distant ages. But Judas had lived in a time like his own, not two hundred years ago, when Israel was helpless, as it was now, under the foot of the heathen. Judas, with his heroic father and brothers, had dared to rise up and defy the oppressor, and for a time Israel had breathed the free again. […] This time—! There were young men everywhere who longed for such a chance again. Together, he and Joel would find them.

[Daniel] was almost at the point of tears. Yet in the same instant such a fierce resentment sprang up in him that he dared not look his friend in the face. […] Everyone—the doctor, Leah, the neighbors, and now Simon, took it for granted that he had come home to stay. […] What about his life on the mountain? What about Rosh and Samson, and the work that must be done in the cave? Wasn’t that more important than a few farmers who wanted their wheels mended? Everything he loved […] the irresponsible life, the excitement of the raids, rose up and fought off the shackles that Simon held out to him in kindness.

He lay filled with meat and wine, his old comrades stretched out beside him. It was all just as he had imagined it on those endless steaming nights in the town. Yet sleep did not come. He turned over, twisting his shoulders to fit a hump in the rocky ground. In these few weeks his body had forgotten the feel of pebbles. In the same way, his mind shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a resting place […].

All at once he thought of Leah’s little black goat. Would some child in the village be hungry because of tonight's feast?

Where did he himself belong?

The fire in Simon’s forge had almost gone out. He raked back the ashes, blew on the coals and coaxed it back to life. Then he opened the inner door to the house. Leah looked up at him, her blue eyes as lifeless as the fire. She had not combed her hair or bothered to get herself breakfast. With irritation he saw that the water jar was empty and that he would have to stand in line at the well with the snickering women. He bent and picked up the jar, and the bars of his cage slid into place around him.

“Do the people—crowd together and push each other?”

“It’s all you can do to stay on your two feet sometimes.”

She was silent so long that he thought she had stopped thinking about it. Then she asked, “Are there children, too? […] Jesus wouldn’t let them hurt the children, would he?”

“He won't even let them send the children away when they’re a nuisance. He insists on talking to them, and finding out their names, and listening to their foolishness. It makes some of the men furious—as though he thought children were important.”

“Daniel, what makes you and Joel so sure that Jesus means to make war?”

“He says that the kingdom is at hand. What else can he mean?”

“Did you ever think he might mean that the kingdom will come some other way? Without any fighting? […] You see, Jesus has made me see that we don’t need to wait for God to care for us. He does that now. […] If everyone understood that—every man and woman […] Suppose—the Romans too could understand?”

He stopped in the road and stared at her. “Romans? You think God loves the Romans?”

Thacia sighed. “That’s impossible, I suppose.”

With a snap of his finger he indicated the two packs. […]

Black anger rose in Daniel. He knew well enough the law that allowed a Roman to command that a Jew carry his burden for one mile. But the man didn’t live who could make him shoulder a Roman pack! He looked squarely at the soldier. Then he spat, deliberately. The blow across his mouth came instantly and staggeringly, but he did not lower his head. […]

There was a stifled gasp. Then Thacia very quietly stepped forward and lifted one of the packs.

In the darkness the same words echoed over and over. “They who live by the sword will perish by the sword.” […] Jesus had spoken them on a hot summer morning under a blue sky. Daniel had not questioned the words. To live by the sword was the best life he knew. To take the sword for his country’s freedom and to perish by it—what better could a man hope for? But something he had not reckoned on had happened. He had taken the sword, but Samson, instead, had perished by it, who had no freedom to gain, and Nathan, who had left behind a bride. Their deaths were on his head. And freedom was farther away than before.

“[Samson] did not give you vengeance. He gave you love. There is no greater love than that, that a man should lay down his life for his friend. Think, Daniel, can you repay such love with hate?”

“It’s too late to love Samson. He is probably dead.” Then, as Jesus waited, “Should I love the Romans who killed him?” he asked with bitterness.

Jesus smiled. “You think that is impossible, don’t you? Can’t you see, Daniel, it is hate that is the enemy? Not men. Hate does not die with killing. It only springs up a hundredfold. The only thing stronger than hate is love.”

Unable to endure that smile, Daniel bent his head. Suddenly, with a longing that was more than he could bear, he wanted to stop fighting against this man. He knew that he would give everything he possessed in life to follow Jesus.

Even his vow?

He tried to cling again to the words of David that had always strengthened him. He trains my hands for war—

But Jesus said that the Victory was God’s promise. He called men to make ready their hearts and minds instead.

Was it possible that only love could bend the bow of bronze?