I was raised as a pastor’s kid. For some, this can cause them to reject or despise the Church. It’s a testament to my parents’ healthy relationship with Church and family that I experienced quite the opposite. Despite its flaws, I have an appreciation and affection for the Church in its various forms. Now, I’m faced with how best to guide and position my own kids in relation to it.
 

I decided to earn my Master of Divinity — essentially a US degree for ordination. In the process, I discovered I loved theology and biblical studies more than the pastoral ministry I was training for.
 

I transitioned out of church ministry, and explored Ph.D. programmes. This landed me and my family in the UK in 2019, pursuing a doctorate in New Testament studies at King’s College, London.

My wife is English; so moving here wasn’t as extreme as it might have been for some Americans; but, only a few months after arriving in a new country, Covid happened, and we were no longer allowed access to campus. Ph.Ds already have a reputation for being an isolating experience, and this only exacerbated the challenge.
 

I had been kindly (and correctly) warned that the field of theology and biblical studies is incredibly competitive. I don’t think we can afford not to continue training at a high level in these areas. Thankfully, I was very fortunate with employment following my doctorate: I guest-lectured in Germany for several months, and I’m currently lecturing and project-managing at St Mellitus College, London.
 

There’s some amazing scholarship in the States, but in the UK as well; so I’m thankful to be here. One of the things we’re working on is a celebration of the 1700 anniversary of the Council of Nicaea.
 

Jesus and the Bad Guys came about because my co-author and I are both dads of three children, and we were consistently dissatisfied with the Christian resources we had for our kids. Not only is Jesus typically depicted as standing around in bedsheets talking, but some of his critical messages, like peacemaking and non-violent enemy-love, are grossly unrepresented in kids’ books; so we set out to capture the fun, imaginative nature of Jesus that made him magnetic, while also tackling a big and relevant question for kids: How does Jesus face bad guys?
 

One common myth is that Christian non-violence is passive. Rather, the way of enemy-love and peace-making that we witness and hear from Jesus and his disciples is active, subversive, and restorative.
 

But we don’t need to wait for a war or an attempted mugging to live out these principles. The seedlings of nonviolence, forgiveness, and peacemaking can grow in daily life when we resist dominating and dehumanising others, and commit to self-emptying love, and view all humanity as our neighbours.
 

One of our favourite pieces of the book is where we invite children to imagine the wild ways Jesus could have defeated the bad guys — maybe riding in on a T.Rex, or even conquering the Romans with fart canons. The message of enemy-love is serious, but our audience is kids, and so we’ve engaged with them at their level.
 

My co-author, Connor [Shram], is Canadian. We were delighted to see it at times atop a few different charts (even “children’s humour”). I must say, though, that finding my own children tucked away in their room reading the book has been more fulfilling than any metric.
 

Not unlike adults, kids are initially divided on what they think of Jesus forgiving and dying for enemies — after all, lasers and superhero punches seem pretty cool. Ultimately, we’re thankful to see kids begin chewing on the idea from the earliest ages that self-emptying love is how evil is overcome.
 

This message isn’t a cryptic idea pieced together through a dubious selection of prooftexts. It’s taught overtly and demonstrated by Jesus, his disciples, and the first generations of the Church. The typical issue is whether adults believe that Jesus literally meant what he said and did, and whether they still follow the way of their crucified king if their country demands a different approach to enemies.
 

How a message like this plays out in politics is, ultimately, a question of how integrated the Church can be in matters of government while still proclaiming Jesus is Lord, not Caesar. Paul suggests in Romans 12-13 that we’re to accept that the Church and nations inevitably will approach enemies differently. While nations bear the sword, Paul is explicit that the Church is to overcome evil with good, and says if your enemies are hungry, feed them. While one should pray for one’s nation to adopt godly policies — and get involved if one so desires — obeying the sermon on the mount will often clash with national interests.
 

Children need protecting, there’s no disputing this. The way Jesus inspires us to think about this is not to ask if I’m willing to kill my enemies to protect the innocent, but, instead, am I willing to lay down my life for them? One may then be tempted to question the effectiveness of nonviolent resistance and self-sacrificial love, but we need only look at, for example, the horrendous death toll of Palestinian children to remember that Christian non-violence is not the greatest risk to the safety of children.
 

Not unlike the cross, the difficult and brave choice to resist the sword won’t always appear on the surface like it “worked”. Following Christ is a long game, where the community of Jesus’s followers love their enemies self-sacrificially, and hold on to the hope of the resurrection and the restoration of all things.
 

I can only speak with any real level of authority or experience when it comes to US politics, and I’m finding that, over time, I’m less and less caught up in the theatre and drama of national politics and debates. As and where governments can limit injustices, we should urge them to do so, and play our part; but the risk is that preoccupation with political matters becomes such that our imaginations and hopes are captured by these political leaders or movements.
 

Being raised in a family of Christians with an authentic aim to follow Jesus, I experienced God in a more general sense before any sort of individual encounter or specific moment. I’m very blessed to have been a part of several church communities that, being the body of Christ, showed me God, and facilitated an experience of him.
 

Over the years I have experienced a back and forth: developing a personal relationship with God, but then backing away from individualism and seeing my relationship to God interlocking with my relationship with others. It’s a paradox of an expanding individual history and prayer life with God while having an awareness of my interconnectedness with others.
 

I’m angered when I hear of children experiencing spiritual abuse through bad, manipulative theology. Too many children grow up believing: “I’m evil. God can’t draw near to me because of my sin. Because of this, the Father would have smote me if Jesus didn’t absorb his wrath. Although forgiveness is available, the Father may torture me for eternity if I don’t get this vague faith thing just right.” It is no surprise that this theological system then imports trauma and dysfunction into our other relationships and areas of life.

Quality time with my lovely family brings me the deepest and most satisfying happiness. We’re most in our element when we’re outside gardening, building forts, and playing football. Our children are eight, six, and almost three.
 

As churches like Thessalonica faced intense persecution, the apostle Paul wrote to them with encouragement about the resurrection to come. While I wouldn’t pretend to relate to the trials faced by the Early Church, I try and place my hope in the same event the Church anticipated and found comfort in.

I desire to have a more liturgical prayer life: one that, regardless of circumstance, helps to guide me down certain biblical and theological grooves. Unfortunately, my prayer life still ebbs and flows in correlation to urgent needs. I’m currently most moved to pray for the conflict in Gaza.
 

I’d choose to be cooped up in church with the apostle Paul. Having written my Ph.D. dissertation on his letter to the Galatians, I’d appreciate getting his honest feedback on how I did.
 

Dr Jared Neusch was talking to Terence Handley MacMath.

Jesus vs. the Bad Guys is published by Tyndale House Publishers at £14.99 (Church Times Bookshop £13.49); 978-1-4964-7816-0.