Kingdom Rules | Sunday, October 26, 2025
October 26, 2025 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis
In this teaching
Drawing on a recent trip to Israel, Pastor Miles teaches Jesus' command in Luke 6 to love your enemies and not resist evil, while holding it in tension with the Bible's parallel call for governing authorities to execute justice. He argues that the citizen of Christ's kingdom lives by a different value system, trusts God for justice through the magistrate rather than personal vengeance, and points to Christ's death as the supreme example of loving one's enemy.
- After October 7, Israel is experiencing a turn toward faith, and a growing replacement theology in American churches wrongly dismisses the importance of the Jewish people.
- The chief virtue of Christ's kingdom is love—willing the good of another—even toward enemies, which runs contrary to our natural inclination toward vengeance.
- When Christ rules as king, His kingdom rules change how we live; Romans 12 commands believers to repay no one evil for evil and leave room for God's wrath.
- The same Bible that teaches non-violence (Romans 12) also commissions governing authorities to bear the sword and execute justice (Romans 13).
- The minister of God's kingdom is distinct from the magistrate of earthly kingdoms; Christ's kingdom is not of this world, and He alone will bring His kingdom.
- "You shall be perfect" is indicative, not merely imperative: loving your enemy is what it looks like to be a child of your Father—supremely modeled at the cross.
But I say to you, love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who spitefully use you. To him who strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also... But love your enemies. Do good and lend hoping for nothing in return. And your reward will be great and you will be the sons of the most high... Therefore, be merciful, just as your father also is merciful. Judge not that you be not judged... Give and it will be given to you. Good measure pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you. ()
When Christ becomes your king, He calls you to a value system that runs straight against your nature—beginning with love for your enemies.
A Trip to Israel
I've just returned from Israel, traveling with a small team—myself, Pastor David Guzik, Pastor Lance Ralston, and Chuck Musselwhite—the board for Enduring Word. One big thing to know: Thomas Nelson is bringing out the Enduring Word Study Bible in two weeks. If you're looking for a new study Bible, I'll share more about that next week.
This was my fifth trip to Israel, but most of the time I'm leading a team of a hundred people, and my focus is getting everyone on and off the buses—like herding cats. Because it was just the four of us this time, we were able to see places we normally can't take groups, including sites in the West Bank that require security checkpoints.
We drove toward Hebron, one of the most contested sites in the world. There, in a building Herod constructed 2,000 years ago, is the cave of Machpelah, where Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, and Jacob are buried. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all look to these patriarchs. Along the main road is a sign in Arabic, Hebrew, and English: "This road leads to Area A under Palestinian Authority. The entrance for Israeli citizens is forbidden. Dangerous to your lives."
"Everyone Knows Someone"
Our guides, Nur and his nephew Hamit, are officers in the Israeli Defense Force. They took us to within two miles of Gaza, to the site of the Nova Music Festival massacre. Along the road are small concrete bomb shelters at every bus stop, because rockets are fired from Gaza, and you have about fifteen seconds to get inside one. About 200 yards from the festival site, Nur brought us to one he called personal. Inside, plastered with pictures of the hostages and the dead, twenty-nine Israeli youth were gunned down and killed with grenades. Nur pointed to a young girl—the babysitter of his children, who lived next door.
In Israel, you will not meet a single person who doesn't know someone killed on October 7. For 9/11, most of us knew of the 3,000 who died, but few of us knew someone personally. In Israel, everyone we met knew someone.
On the plane to Tel Aviv, I sat beside a young woman named Gia, wearing a sweatshirt with a hostage's picture—her cousin Alon, who was to be released in two days. She knew thirteen people killed in the attack. She'd been a trauma medic in the IDF and is now doing premed in the U.S. while still serving as a reservist. Providentially, our first full day in Israel we watched Air Force One fly in as the president came to sign the peace agreement and the hostages were about to be released. In Jaffa, a woman named Ara broke down weeping as the live feed showed the hostages set free.
A Question from an 18-Year-Old
A week ago Saturday, Pastor David Guzik taught at a church of about 500 Jewish Christians in Jerusalem. Afterward, a man named Matan invited us to a pre-military training academy he oversees—the only one for Jewish Christians. Every Israeli graduate enters the IDF at eighteen, and before service they may take a gap year to study under their rabbis.
We spoke to about fifty young people and opened it for questions. An eighteen-year-old girl asked, "How come it seems like so many Christians in America hate us, the Jewish people? Have they not read the New Testament?" I had the unfortunate task of telling her that there is a growing group of American Christians who hold to replacement theology—who don't think the people of Israel have any importance in end-times events. That's not all Christians, and certainly not the church I'm part of, but it's a growing sentiment. I told her it may be that she only has the Lord to stand with her—and that God is doing a work in Israel, with a renewed interest in the gospel and many coming to faith in Christ as Messiah.
A young man named Joshua came to me afterward with a girl named Shira, who could only speak Hebrew. She was anxious because she might be positioned in Gaza or Hebron. She's eighteen. I prayed she would know the peace and rest of the Holy Spirit. Pray for Shira and Joshua.
A Moment for the Church
There's something of a revival happening in Israel. It has long been called one of the most secular nations in the world, and over twenty years I've seen that most people there were not strongly committed to their faith. But after October 7, there's a massive shift toward faith. People told us, "We cannot not believe in God after all the miracles we've seen in the last two years."
Why is this happening? Our culture has done a terrible job answering the deep questions every human soul asks: identity—who am I? purpose—why am I here? origin—where did I come from? destiny—where do I go when I die? and morality—is there anything right or wrong? Because the culture has not answered these clearly, people are seeking, and they're turning back to Scripture, where the best answers come from the God who made us.
We're living at an opportune moment, and we must be able to answer those questions—not just with words. People are watching to see whether what you say you believe is evidenced in your life. What you believe must change how you live; it must transform you. The gospel is the power of God unto salvation to do exactly that. And the passage before us today challenges us at the level of our nature.
A Different Kingdom, a Different King
If you're a Christian, you are the citizen of a new kingdom and the subject of a new king—and He calls you to live by a different value system. For decades, even centuries, our culture's values were similar to Scripture's. But as the culture shifts, the value system Christ calls us to is increasingly different from the world's. This section, the Sermon on the Mount, gives us insight into what it looks like to have God as your Father—and it must be evident in our lives.
This is not an unfamiliar text. In fact, it's the favorite text of antagonistic unbelievers—my favorite kind. It's almost November, so you may see some antagonistic unbelievers at your family gatherings. They love this passage, often quoting it in part or out of context to one-up you: "Don't you know the Bible says you shall not judge?" or "I thought you're supposed to be like your Lord—a nonviolent pacifist who said turn the other cheek. How could you support Israel or the U.S. military?"
A quick note on an objection: Matthew places this sermon on a mountain; Luke says a plain. There's a simple answer. This was Jesus' "stump speech"—the message He preached everywhere. Matthew gives the full version across chapters 5–7; Luke gives an abridgment. That's why Luke's account opens mid-thought: "But I say to you." Matthew supplies what comes before—"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, love your enemies" ().
Love Your Enemies—Against My Nature
Let me be honest: I like the rabbis' teaching better—love your neighbor and hate your enemy. That was the teaching of the rabbis in Jesus' day, and my flesh prefers it, especially in light of gross wickedness—terrorists killing 1,200 people and recording desecrating, horrible things they did to men and women as propaganda. My inclination is to hate my enemy. You're the same. We want permission to hate. And Jesus doesn't give it.
Point one: the chief virtue of Christ's kingdom is love. Thomas Aquinas said love is "to will the good of another"—to desire their good. Jesus says, "Love your enemies. Desire their good." That is not my natural inclination.
What does it practically look like? "To him who strikes you on the one cheek"—a sign of insult—"turn to him the other also. And from him who takes away your cloak, do not withhold your tunic. Give to everyone who asks." By nature as a man, and by culture as an American, I do not like this teaching. My instinct is to stand up for myself and confront anyone who's rude. That's my flesh.
The Old Testament said, "life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth" (). Many have read that as "John Wick theology"—you hurt me, I destroy you—though that's not the right interpretation. Jesus references that very text: "You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye'... but I tell you, do not resist an evil person" (). My flesh hates this. I want justice, retribution, revenge. I like David's imprecatory prayers—"Break their teeth in their mouth." I've prayed that prayer.
Your desire for justice is not wrong. God made you in His image, and He is perfectly just. But my right desire for justice does not give me the right to take justice into my own hands. That's the hard part.
The Rules of His Kingdom Change How You Live
Point two: when Christ rules as king in your life, the rules of His kingdom change the way you live. Paul sums it up in : "Bless those who persecute you... Repay no one evil for evil... If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men. Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath; for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay,' says the Lord. Therefore, if your enemy is hungry, feed him... Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."
These passages go contrary to my nature. I want to avenge myself—can I get an amen? But God says, "As much as depends on you, live at peace with all men." And the lingering question is the right one: What about when something genuinely evil happens? When terrorists kill 1,200, take 251 hostage, and put children in an oven to burn them? That happened. So what do you do?
Theology Meets Reality
The antagonistic unbeliever says, "Jesus was a nonviolent pacifist who told you to turn the other cheek—so how can you support military action?" This is where theology meets reality. How do we live righteously in the present evil age, surrounded by wickedness?
You cannot read "do not resist an evil person" in apart from the very next words in Romans 13: "Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except from God... For he is God's minister to you for good. But if you do evil, be afraid; for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is God's minister, an avenger to execute wrath on him who practices evil" ().
We live in the tension. You are already a citizen of another kingdom and subject of another King, but not yet in the fullness of His kingdom. That's why we pray, "Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." We've enjoyed 250 years of religious freedom and have not, to any significant degree, experienced reviling or persecution for righteousness' sake. That's not guaranteed to last. Meanwhile, as much as possible, we love our enemies—all the while praying for righteous rulers who will execute wrath on those who practice evil.
Trusting God for Justice
Jesus does not give me the opportunity for personal vengeance. There is, under governing authorities, a collective action of dealing with injustice—and it ought to be dealt with. Point three: the subject and citizen of Christ's kingdom trusts in Him to deliver perfect justice in His own way and timing—and His way is often for the magistrate to deal with it.
But we don't always have good magistrates—a real problem. Remember, Paul wrote Romans to Christians living under one of the most wicked Caesars in history, and still said, "Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities." That is hard. So we are pushed to pray, "Your kingdom come, Your will be done."
There is real tension between two clear biblical teachings. Jesus teaches a nonviolent reality. Yet Scripture also teaches the strong execution of justice and the defense of the defenseless. God held Israel accountable for failing to defend the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow—those who could not defend themselves.
Church and State, Minister and Magistrate
This tension reminds us there is a separation between the kingdom of God and the kingdoms of this world—in our American context, between church and state. Many Protestants today are drawn to reject that idea, pulled toward Christian nationalism. But Scripture makes clear that the minister of God's kingdom is separate from the magistrate of earthly kingdoms. Look at church history: every time ministers took the role of magistrates, there were bad outcomes.
When Pilate—the magistrate who condemned Him—asked, "Are you the king of the Jews?" Jesus answered, "My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, My servants would fight... but now My kingdom is not of this world." That's hard for me, because I want to rise up, seize the power of the kingdom, and execute righteousness. But that's my flesh.
Who will bring Christ's kingdom to this world—His church, or Him? He will. That doesn't mean we shouldn't pray and work for righteous magistrates who govern according to Scripture's values; we have the privilege of a voice in that. You may even be called to political office—but God has called me to be a minister, not the magistrate of justice. You don't want me with my finger on the button.
The same Bible that teaches nonviolence also teaches strong defense and the just-war thinking of Augustine and Aquinas. And when we do have good magistrates, that means they will execute justice—and justice is hard to swallow.
"You Shall Be a Child of Your Father"
Notice how Jesus finishes this section in Matthew: "Love your enemies... that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. For He makes the sun rise on the evil and the good... For if you love those who love you, what reward have you?" Then the key last verse: "Therefore, you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect" ().
About four years ago I noticed something. We usually teach this as a command—"you shall be perfect." But in the Greek it's not in the imperative; it's in the indicative. So it's not primarily a command but a statement: love your enemy, and you shall be a child of your Father. That is what it looks like to be a child of God.
And there is no greater example than the One who laid down His life for us. As we partake of communion, consider this: His body was broken for us, His blood shed for us, and from the cross He prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." There is no greater example of love for one's enemy than that of Jesus Christ—and that is the example He has given to you and me. God help us.
On the night He was betrayed, Jesus took bread, broke it, blessed it, and said, "Take, eat. This is My body, which is broken for you. Do this in remembrance of Me." In the same manner He took the cup, saying, "This is the cup of the new covenant in My blood. This do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me."
Closing Prayer
God, we thank You for Your goodness toward us. Lord, You said to Your disciples on the night You took the bread and the cup, "I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done for you." Would You help us by Your Spirit to love as You have called us to love? I cannot do this without Your empowering. The fruit of the Spirit is love—God, make it a reality in our lives. When our flesh desires to take vengeance and retribution into our own hands, help us to have the mind of Christ, to trust that You said, "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay." Help us to be an example of Your grace, Your love, and Your truth to this world. You said, "You are the light of the world; a city set on a hill cannot be hidden." Help us to be a light, for our world desperately needs to see it. We ask this in Jesus' name. And now may the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of His Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.
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