Dear reader from the future,
Whenever provinces and cities get flooded in the Philippines, I always think about anthropogenic climate change. But there’s another problem that originates from human activity: greed.
As the government poured out billions for adaptation efforts, bad actors found ways to steal what should have protected us from rising waters. But eventually, a time of reckoning has come for those who lived their lives through unjust gains. No corrupt deed remained hidden from the light.
People have taken their cries to the streets today, speaking against the corruption that never gets satiated, against leaders who have squandered what is not theirs and have taken advantage of the masses, against the rich who have sucked out the life of the commoner.
Some have protested in the metaverse.
I think about the complexity of life and human relations. I also admire the brave, who are never afraid to speak for justice and become the voice of people who are still finding their voice and their place in this complicated world. The people who are not afraid and stay true to the national anthem “…ang mamatay nang dahil sa’yo.”
While there are many thoughts about how one should conduct oneself in these oppresive situations, whether to participate in public demonstrations or not, I cannot help but think about all the liberties I enjoy now because of the people who rallied for them before.
I have not participated in any public demonstrations today, so I thought about whether I am being a coward, apolitical, or uninterested. I know how stirred up I got after watching the news and hearings, and I know how angry I felt against the abuse of power and authority, the liars and the thieves, the manipulators and deceivers.
Watching the news coverage of today’s protests, feeling that familiar anger against thieves and liars, I found myself trapped between two responses: violent resistance or timid conformity. That’s when I remembered there was a third option, one that might actually include some of what other Filipinos are already doing:
- People speaking truth to power with a heart that seeks restoration rather than just revenge.
- People demanding accountability while still hoping for their leaders’ redemption rather than destruction.
- People refusing to adopt the same corrupt methods they oppose.
These things remind me of how Jesus boldly critiqued Israel’s corrupt leadership in the temple courts and public squares, seeking their repentance rather than their ruin, knowing full well it would eventually lead to his arrest and murder.
There’s a way to resist that doesn’t require violence but also refuses silence. A way that speaks truth even when it’s dangerous, that stands with the oppressed even when it costs us something, that seeks the welfare of even those who have caused harm.
From Exile in the Bible: An Ethic of Loyalty and Subversion (Responding to Injustice Like Jesus Does):
Jesus of Nazareth, who lived under brutal Roman oppression during the first century C.E., taught neither violent resistance nor timid conformity. Instead, he embraced a way of life similar to his ancestors who experienced exile under the oppression of other power-hungry empires.
The New Testament authors sometimes associate Jesus’ loving resistance and subversive loyalty with previous Israelites like Daniel and his friends, who learned to stay true to Yahweh while suffering injustice in exile. Their loyal love for Yahweh stood in stark contrast to the Babylonian empire, and Jesus’ loyal love for humanity subverts human power structures too. This subversive loyalty is something we can think of as “the way of exile.”
The Way of Exile Resists without Violence
Babylon captures a few of Israel’s royal elite—Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. The Babylonian authorities assign Daniel and his friends to study and labor in the courts of the king, and they spend years learning about Babylon’s gods and working for the very empire that tore them from their home. They could have chosen to abandon their trust in God and become bitter, but they instead choose to listen to Jeremiah’s words and to serve the king of Babylon—all without sacrificing their loyalty to God.
They set themselves apart from the mainstream ways of life by trusting God more than the pleasures that come with conforming to Babylon’s empire (e.g., Dan. 1:8-9; Dan. 5:17). When the king demands that Daniel and his companions bow to Babylonian gods, they humbly and firmly refuse. And later, when prayer to Yahweh is declared a crime punishable by death, Daniel still refuses to hide or stop offering his daily prayers (see Dan. 6:4-11).
Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah refuse to compromise their loyalty to God while in exile to Babylon… and they never stop blessingthe corrupt king (Dan. 3:12-18; Dan. 6:21-22). Their non-violent protests rely on the power of God’s love instead of the tempting-but-false power of coercion or defensive retreat.
As the story unfolds, we see how their willingness to trust God brings divine power to subvert the control of the empire (Dan. 3:28-30; Dan. 6:25-27). For Daniel and his friends, living in exile means enduring real pain while striving to stay true to Yahweh and his wisdom.
Jesus Is the Way
When we get to the story of Jesus, Rome is the new bully in town. Many Israelites have already rebelled against the Roman empire (e.g., the Maccabean revolt, 167-160 B.C.E.), and many still hope for a new rebellion to begin. Others have given in and conformed to mainstream Roman culture, doing whatever it takes to appease those in power. But Jesus embraces the same subversive loyalty that Jeremiah talked about and that Daniel and his friends practiced while living in exile in Babylon.
Jesus invites a tax collector named Matthew (who is a willing participant in Rome’s economic oppression) and a zealot named Simon (who is a violent opposer of Rome’s governance) to leave their old life and follow his new way of life (see Luke 5:27; Luke 6:15). Jesus has to constantly remind his followers to resist violence, to love the people they can’t stand, and to continue caring for and blessing both the oppressors and the afflicted in their society (see Luke 6:27-36; Matt. 5:38-47). Jesus shows them how loyal love for God and others can undermine oppressive cultures without the use of coercion or hostility.
Jesus did “overthrow” the tables of the money changers because they were excluding non-Israelite people who had come to Jerusalem’s temple to worship Yahweh, but he did not lay a hand on anyone unless he was healing them (Matt. 21:12-14). He remained gentle, humble, and compassionate, and he was not afraid to move against mainstream culture with truth. He boldly critiqued Israel’s corrupt leadership, which eventually led to his arrest and murder. And he also washed his betrayer’s feet and allowed the Roman guard to pierce his own.
No returned violence or coercion. No hiding or cowering into conformity. Instead, Jesus humbly gives his life in love to overturn the corrupt powers that drive Heaven and Earth apart.
Modern people are not the exiles in the Bible, but we experience similar pains. When we feel bullied by unjust people and oppressive systems in our world, we can react with words or actions we might instinctively think will help. We may want to clench our fists and hit back, or compromise and hide out to stay safe. But the way of exile in the Bible shows us a new option—a loving response that aligns with God’s work restoring all creation. He’s reuniting his home to ours, so that his will can be done on Earth as it is in Heaven, and partnering with him right now in our world is the way of exile that reflects the advice of Jeremiah, the attitude of Daniel, and ultimately the love of Jesus.
By following Jesus, we can learn to stand up for the oppressed without becoming oppressors ourselves. We can forgive, bless, and pray for those who cause harm. We can seek the welfare of the countries, cities, and towns we find ourselves in. Because loving resistance, stable conviction, and subversive loyalty are the way of exile, the way of Jesus.
And so, here I am, in subversive loyalty, following the way of Jesus. This means I write these words knowing they may cost me something. It means exposing corruption through truth rather than silence or stones. This means seeking the welfare of my country while refusing to bow to its false gods of greed and power—sometimes alongside those in the streets, sometimes in different ways, but always in solidarity with those who refuse to let injustice have the last word. It means blessing my country by refusing to let it stay broken and by living right with God and with people.
Your letter writer from the past,
Jessa
jessa 