When I was a kid, I loved stories about good conquering evil.

I had this big book of old fairytales, and I would captivated by them: stories of wicked witches and cruel tyrants being overcome by clever paupers and courageous knights—of evil being overcome by good. I also discovered modern fairy tales—superhero stories, courageous people with magical powers like Superman and Spiderman fighting bad guys and making the world better. I loved stories of good conquering evil.

And I wanted to be a part that. When I was first learning to put words on paper, in barely legible handwriting I would write stories of Super Geoff with his classmates becoming Super Adam, and Super Aaron, teaming up together to beat the bad guys. I made my mom read them and was surprised when she didn’t encourage me to find a publisher.

I know I’m not the only kid who had this fascination. I think there’s a reason we keep telling stories of good against evil, whether that’s superhero stories or westerns or Star Wars. There’s something deep within us that senses that this is important—that there are bad things in this world that need to be overcome.

In the 80’s and early 90’s, our country had a shared vision of what that evil was: the Soviets. Think of movies like Red Dawn, Rambo, Rocky IV, Hunt for Red October: Americans stood for justice, freedom, McDonalds, and the Soviets were the evil ones who stood in the way of all that. Good versus evil.

With the fall of the Berlin wall and all that came next, the idea of evil started going out of fashion—the word came to be seen as medieval, primitive. People aren’t evil, it was said. They are sick, maladjusted, confused. Correspondingly, many of our more “adult” stories moved away from good verses evil. Heroes and bad guys alike are gray, with legitimate perspectives and real flaws. To see things in black and white, good versus evil, was seen as naïve, something only for kids before they understood the complexity of the world.

But I think that mindset is beginning to change. I think we’re returning to a shared sense that there are indeed evil things in the world. Some, perhaps especially on the left, have brought to light truly evil abuses of power: how men considered important have been able to sexually exploit women; how violence has been unjustly inflicted on minorities. Those things are not just unpleasant. They’re evil. Others, perhaps especially on the right, have drawn attention to terrible wrongs being done to our children: to the millions of deaths of the unborn, to the gender replacement medical procedures done on kids not even yet allowed to drive. Again, this is not just presented as unwise. It’s evil. 

Evil is real. But, can we do anything about it? Can good overcome evil? 

In our day, people are not so sure. Many just look at the problem and feel helpless. For example, nearly half of the members of Gen Z who were surveyed agreed with the statement. “When I think about all the terrible things that have been happening, it is hard for me to hold out much hope for the world.” Yeah, there’s evil, but what can we do? Fairy tales and superheroes aren’t real. We can’t fix this.

Others, however, in the face of the ugliness of evil have concluded that we need to fight, and that things are so bad that we need to use whatever means necessary to win, no matter how ugly. On the left we have seen the rise in “cancel culture,” the attempts to thwart wrongs such as racism and sexism by silencing opinions. On the right, leaders have argued that when things are as bad as abortion and transgenderism, we need to be willing to play dirty. In one essay, for example, a conservative political science professor argued that faithful Christians must “necessarily employ crudeness, subterfuge, and even deception to defy the enemies of God and wage war against evil.” Both sides seem to agree: the time for virtue is over. Evil is real, and we need to fight fire with fire.

If you were paying attention to the Scripture reading just a moment ago, I hope you noticed a different way forward.

Romans 12 sets out for us a vision of what God intends for us to be as the redeemed people of Jesus. We have a new identity in Christ as his body, we are meant to be a community of love, in a web of generous and humble relationships with each other. And here, in these final verses in chapter 12 this vision also describes for us how we, this body of Christ, are to relate to the broken world in which we live. And in these verses, Paul talks about evil. Verse 21: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome—or the word could just as easily be CONQUER—evil with good.”  

We, the church, are explicitly given the task of working to conquer evil. That is part of what our calling is. If you, like me, find this longing within you that you have had since childhood to be a part of fighting what is bad in this world, the Bible tells you that this longing is actually God-given. Yes, there is evil in the world. And yes, it can be overcome. And yes, you and I are meant to participate—we are meant to join in the battle of conquering evil. 

And here we’re also told how. “Do not be overcome by evil, but instead, overcome evil with good.” 

“Do not be overcome by evil.” Perhaps when we first hear this, we might have in our mind something like the culture war and imagine, “Don’t be overcome by evil” means something like don’t let the bad guys have their way. Figure out what you need to do to stop them. But if you look at all that Paul says in this paragraph, it’s clear that when he’s speaking about being overcome by evil, he’s warning the church about how we might be tempted to respond to being wronged. It’s an idea repeated throughout, but it’s especially clear in verse 17: “Repay no one evil for evil.” See, that’s what it looks like to be overcome by evil: to become evil ourselves in how we respond. “As you engage evil, don’t let yourself become a monster as well.” 

Within my lifetime, one of the clearest examples of something that was unmistakably evil was the genocide in Rwanda. In less than 4 months, more than half a million members of the Tutsi tribe were slaughtered by the Hutus. Something I can’t even fathom. How did this happen? Well, for decades before, the Tutsi tribe were the political elite, and they were the ones who badly treated Hutus. What the Tutsis did to the Hutus was evil. And the Hutus responded by fighting back, they repaid  evil with even greater evil. In the end the only winner was evil itself. 

One of Satan’s greatest tricks is to bring about tunnel vision in the face of wrong. To make people think that the real problem is a single issue, and if we can just win on that issue, all will be made right. Or the real problem is a single person or group of people, so if we can just beat them, all will be made right. If we need to lie or show cruelty or use any unvirtuous means in the moment, well, that’s the cost of fighting. It is, “a necessary evil.” But do you see the problem with this tunnel vision? The real enemy is not other people, it’s evil itself. If you use evil to beat evil, you have lost, and evil has won. 

One of the men who understood this most keenly was Martin Luther King Jr. In speaking about how victims of racism should respond to this cruelty, he wrote, The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy, instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate.

Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

It’s often said, “To wrestle a pig, you’re going to have to get in the mud.” Christians are called to something higher. We aren’t just looking to win in the moment. We’re looking to see evil itself be undone. And for that to happen we can only overcome evil with good. More specifically, our passage tells us that we are called to overcome evil with the hospitality of love.

With Good

Until the end of verse 13 the emphasis, as we saw last week, has been on how we are to love each other within the church. But then, we see the focus shifting with Paul telling us what this community of love is meant to do together. “Seek to show”—literally “pursue” hospitality.” The word “hospitality” in Greek is a combination of two words: “love” and “outsider”—it’s outsider love, the act of treating outsiders as friends. And we gain a better sense of the “outsiders” Paul has in mind when we pay attention to the connection between verse 13 and 14. Literally translated it’s “pursue the love of the outsider. Bless those who pursue you.” Do you hear what he’s doing? Outsiders will pursue you; you must seek to pursue hospitality toward them.  Work hard at loving the person who is working hard to hurt you. That’s how we overcome evil: by blessing those against us, by showing genuine love to those outsiders who often oppose us.

As the following verses show—this way of doing battle through hospitality involves both attitudes and actions.  

In terms of attitude, pursuing Hospitable love “openheartedness.” By openhearted I mean the opposite of being guarded and removed. It’s about attention, an internal receptivity where we allow ourselves to care for those outside of our tribe.  Verse 15 tells us “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” While this is often applied to how we are to relate to those within the church, and that’s true, in this context it’s more likely talking about how we related to people outside of the church. 

When the AIDS epidemic first became prominent in the 1980’s some Christians spoke in condemnation, suggesting it was God’s judgment on the gay community. Political action group identifying themselves as Christian lobbied against the government researching a cure for AIDS. This was the exact opposite of what we’re instructed to do here: “Mourn with those who mourn.” Our world is crying out in pain in so many places, and we’re called to grieve with them. Openheartedness.

Likewise the main gist of verse 16 is that we are not to look down on people and somehow think that they are beneath us: “Oh, this silly, foolish godless person. How wise are we compared to them.” Or, when we see poverty, “Well, they just need to get their lives together.”  Instead, our calling in humility is to draw near and come to understand outsiders as equals, so that you share in the weight of their difficulties. Openheartedness toward even our enemies.

When it comes to action, hospitable love means seeking to do what is undeniably good. Notice the emphasis on “all” in verses 17 and 18. “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of ALL. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with ALL. In other words, this is talking about more than how we are to be with each other in church; it’s about how we are to relate to everyone, no matter if they are conservative or liberal, no matter if they are friendly to the church or deeply opposed to it. It’s saying, to the degree that is possible, we are to pursue doing what is good and beautiful by the standards of outsiders, and not just ours.

Now, there is a very important clarification in verse 18: “If possible, so far as it depends on you” is saying that there are times when harmony with the community around is isn’t possible. We must remain faithful to Jesus, whatever that means. We must continue to be able to speak and live the truth with gentleness yet with courage. And that means that there are times when what we do and say will be offensive and people will oppose us. And yet our goal should always be peace, harmony with our community.

Sometimes I think churches see it as a badge of honor if people don’t like them: if the world hates us, well, they hated Jesus too, so that means we’re doing something right. But our calling is that whenever it is possible for us to work with society around us while remaining faithful to Jesus, this is what we are to do. And not just in the sense of resentful compliance, but we are to be supportive, to genuinely seek the good of the people in our community, whether or not they like us. 

That’s what 17 says, right? “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to what is honorable in the sight of all.” And that word “honorable” simply means good, or even beautiful. Paul is calling for us to brainstorm together like the diaconal team is calling us to do—how can we show kindness to people around us in a way that they will genuinely appreciate? That’s what hospitable love is—treating outsiders as friends, because this is what friends do. We seek to be kind in ways that are truly appreciated.

And that’s how we are to do battle to conquer evil: by pursuing, exerting effort to show love to the outsider, even the one who treats us as an enemy. 

Verse 20 explicitly returns to this vision of hospitality: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him. If he is thirsty, give him something to drink.” A meal is the most basic image of hospitality and here it is offering us a vision of how to do battle. Your enemies, those who have done terrible things to you—they are people that you are to seek good things for. Welcome them into your house and give them a meal. 

That, that, is how we overcome evil with good. When someone has publicly said some bad things about the church, instead of retaliating against them, offer them lunch. Instead of seeking to curse them, ask them how they’re doing and seek to pray for them. Welcome them as you would a friend. The way we overcome evil is with love.  

Perhaps, honestly, that feels like a bad idea; just asking to be taken advantage of. And it doesn’t make sense unless you remember that the goal is not to win against people—not just to make bad people look foolish or to triumph in the next election or to get a law changed. The goal is to overcome evil. And you don’t overcome evil with evil. You overcome evil with good—with love.

How does that even work? Well, notice how verse 20 concludes: Paul says that as we show hospitality to those who oppose us, we will “heap burning coals on his head.” What does that mean? 

Well, imagine you’re at the grocery store with a kid—maybe it’s your kid, or if you don’t have kids, maybe you’re babysitting. And the kid you’re with is constantly asking for stuff, and you’re having to say no, and at one point, you’ve just had it, and you just your temper and you yell to the kid about how spoiled he’s being …and you suddenly look past the child and notice just a little ways beyond are some of your friends, people who you’d prefer to believe you aren’t a monster, and you think it’s pretty likely that they saw the whole thing. What do you feel in that moment? What does your face feel like? If you’re anything like me, your face feels hot, like there are burning coals, because of the embarrassment, the shame you feel.

When you respond to evil with kindness, do you know what can happen? Sometimes—certainly not always, but sometimes, when a person who has been mean experiences kindness, real, unmistakable kindness, that experience suddenly shifts things. Goodness, love has a power to it; sometimes people in stubbornness shut their eyes to it and reject it, but sometimes genuine love can throw a person off balance and even make them feel shame at how they’ve been.

Have you ever had it that you were full of righteous indignation and you just start saying some mean stuff at someone and then, to your utter astonishment, they look at you and say something like, “Yeah, you’re really right about that. I blew it, and I’m sorry.” What happens in that moment? You’ve experienced something good, something kind, and that goodness exposes you a bit. Suddenly, you feel bad for blowing your top, and you say, “Yeah, well, I didn’t handle that either.” Burning coals have been put upon your head. And do you know what’s happened? Love has disarmed the wrong. Good has overcome evil. That’s how we do battle. We fight with all our might against evil by seeking–while always holding fast to Jesus—to love with genuine, hospitable love.

How?

Which maybe seems naïve, unrealistic, even impossible. That’s never going to work. I can’t do that, and even if I could, it’s not enough to make a difference. But let me tell you why you’re wrong.  

First, you’re wrong because God makes this kind of love possible by promising to make things right for us. Part of the reason we retaliate is because we want truth to come out. We want vindication, so that the unfairness, the injustice is made right.  And notice that verse 19 does not say, “Never avenge yourself, because vengeance is wrong and it is wrong to want to be avenged.” No, it says, “19 Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”

God tells you that can let go of the ultimate responsibility to make sure those who are wrong are punished. To be clear, when someone has done evil, it’s right to expose it; when someone has broken the law, it’s right to report it. But as we know, even once that’s been done, often justice does not take place. And we don’t need to feel like if we don’t do something, nobody will. God says, “You can let it go, because I will make it right.” If you have been wronged and you long to see justice, know that God is even more committed to this than you are. In the end, God will expose that evil, and he will bring justice. Either he will lead that person who wronged you to repentance, so that they grieve over their sin and entrust their horrible sin to the saving death of Jesus. Or they will not repent, and they will experience the terrible wrath of God. In either case, justice and truth will prevail. It is possible for us to love our enemies, because God promises to make things right for us.

Second, this way of doing battle is possible because Jesus is with us. Paul of course is just basically quoting Jesus in these verses who preached in his Sermon on the Mount “I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Jesus didn’t just say these things; he embodied them. Living among a people who rejected and opposed him, in every way he cared for his enemies with love. He opened his heart to people’s grief, he showed beautiful kindness to those who completely misunderstood him, healing them, feeding them, laying down his life for them. He knows how to engage in this battle. And he promises to go with us and strengthen us and by his Spirit to enable us to love the world as he did. Who you are apart from Christ cannot possibly do this. But in Christ, in his power, you can.  

But finally, and most importantly, we know that battling in this fashion is not foolish, is not destined to end in failure for a very simple reason. Christ has already won. On the cross, Jesus overcame evil in its fullness with the fullest possible expression of love. Satan is defeated, and everywhere the news of this victory is spread—whenever someone hears and truly comes to believe that Jesus has loved them in this way, evil is disarmed. Don’t you experience that in your own soul? That the knowledge that you are forgiven, that you are loved, that you are welcomed in Christ is able to change you in a way that fear and guilt never could. His love has already won as will be clear when all is revealed in the end. We can engage in battle—we can seek to overcome evil with good because we in Christ have a power greater than ourselves. Because we can know that in the end, our victory is assured.

And I’d invite us to engage in battle now. Taking hold of the love of God, let us seek to let his goodness overcome the evil within us. Let’s take time to confess our sin and turn towards God. 

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