The Scandal of Non-Resistance and the Blessing of Christlike Love

A Reflection for Those Troubled by the Evergetinos and the Gospel’s Hardest Word

When we read the Evergetinos, something in us recoils. The stories of monks who refuse to defend themselves, who stand silent before violence, who surrender their few possessions to thieves without protest—these accounts strike our modern Western sensibilities as unreasonable, even dangerous. We live in a world shaped by the language of rights, boundaries, justice, and the moral duty to protect the vulnerable. Everything in our formation tells us that to endure injury without resistance is a kind of failure.

And yet, the Fathers hold these stories before us not as moral rules but as revelations. They show us the unvarnished Gospel. They expose a way of being in the world shaped not by fear or self-preservation but by a love that has already died and risen. They reveal something of the heart of Christ Himself, the One who “did not open His mouth,” the Lamb who goes to the slaughter without resistance and transforms the violence of the world by His silence.

This is where the discomfort lies.

Our instinct is to draw back.

Part of us whispers, “This cannot be for me.”

Another part whispers more painfully, “I do not yet love like this.”

And both voices are honest.

The Desert Fathers Do Not Mock Our Hesitation

The Fathers did not live in illusions. They understood the danger of violence and the horror of seeing others harmed. They understood the instinct to protect oneself and one’s brethren. Many of the monks who refused to resist were themselves former soldiers, former shepherds, former leaders who knew what danger looked like. They simply chose a different path because God had given them a different heart.

They would say to us gently:

“What you see in these stories is not weakness. It is Christ’s own life in a human heart.”

They knew such love cannot be imitated by willpower or ideology.

It can only be born in a heart purified by grace.

But What About the Innocent?

This is where the modern Christian struggles most deeply. The Fathers were never indifferent to the suffering of the innocent. They were not pacifists in an ideological sense. They did not teach abandonment of responsibility. Rather, they believed that the power of love is stronger than any weapon and that non-resistance—when given as a gift by the Holy Spirit—can disarm evil at its roots.

But they also recognized that God does not give this measure to all.

It is not a law.

It is not a command to be imposed.

It is an offering from God to the soul capable of bearing it.

If an innocent person were threatened, the Fathers would not condemn an act of protection.

What they would ask is this:

What reigns in your heart while you act?

Is it hatred?

Fear?

Vengeance?

Or the grief-tinged love of Christ who protects without malice?

They understood that it is possible to defend without hatred, and it is possible to refuse defense without cowardice.

Everything depends on the heart.

The Spirit of Non-Resistance Belongs to All

Even if the literal actions belong to the saints, the spirit belongs to every Christian. Christ’s command not to resist the evil one is not a romantic ideal. It is a revelation of who He is and who we are called to become.

Every Christian is called to let go of:

• the need to strike back

• the hunger to justify oneself

• the instinct to repay hurt with hurt

• the compulsion to preserve reputation or pride

• the fear that makes us cling to control

Few are called to the literal imitation of the Fathers.

But all are called to the crucified love that refuses to let evil deform the heart.

The Hardest Truth: Suffering in Christ Becomes a Blessing

This is the point that modern Western Christians—and honestly, all of us—struggle to see. The Fathers teach that unjust suffering borne with love becomes not merely bearable but holy. It becomes a place of encounter. It becomes a communion with Christ more intimate than any prayer or contemplation. It becomes a fire that burns away self-will and unveils the hidden presence of God.

St. Isaac says:

“Where suffering is, there the glory of God descends.”

And St. Silouan:

“Christ is known through suffering and humility, and in no other way.”

To the Christian mind shaped by comfort, control, and the expectation of stability, this is an affront.

To the heart being shaped by Christ, it is liberation.

A Final Word for the Troubled Soul

The desert fathers do not tell you to imitate them.

They do not demand that you refuse protection or ignore injustice.

They do not romanticize passivity.

They simply reveal the end of the road:

a heart utterly free from fear because it is utterly filled with God.

And they whisper gently to the struggling believer:

“Do not be scandalized by our stories.

You are not expected to leap where we have landed.

Begin instead by softening your anger.

Begin by refusing vengeance.

Begin by forgiving.

Begin by entrusting yourself and those you love to Christ’s mercy.”

In time the heart learns something astonishing:

There is a blessing hidden even in unjust suffering when endured with love.

There is a likeness to Christ that no earthly safety can grant.

And there is a freedom deeper than any right or boundary or defense.

It is the freedom of the One who gave His life without resistance

and conquered the world not by force

but by love.

• This is the first reflection on a very challenging aspect of the not only the Fathers' writings but of the Gospel itself. I'm working on developing additional reflections and addressing some alternative ways of approaching this subject that others have brought to my attention. God bless!