“For They Know Not What They Do”: A Call to Look Into Their Eyes
When Jesus hung on the cross, surrounded by soldiers who mocked Him, pierced Him, and carried out the orders of the state, He spoke a sentence that still shakes the world:
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Stephen, the first Christian martyr, echoed that same Spirit as stones rained down upon him:
“Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
Two men — one the Son of God, one His servant — both facing state‑sanctioned violence, both choosing forgiveness over vengeance, mercy over retaliation, truth over fear.
These words are not soft. They are not passive. They are not naïve.
They are the fiercest form of courage the world has ever seen.
What This Means for Us Today
We live in a time when government power is often exercised without accountability, when families are torn apart at borders, when fear is used as a tool, and when the image of God in our neighbor is obscured by uniforms, badges, and orders.
At ICE rallies and immigration protests, it is easy to see only the machinery of the state — the armored vests, the weapons, the barriers, the rehearsed commands.
But Jesus and Stephen teach us something different.
They teach us to look deeper.
To look into the eyes of the very people carrying out the orders.
Because the eyes are the one thing the state cannot disguise.
Behind every badge is a human soul.
Behind every uniform is someone made in the image of God.
Behind every order is someone who may not fully understand the weight of what they are doing.
A Call to Protestors: Look Into Their Eyes
If you stand at an ICE rally, or any place where state power confronts human dignity, I encourage you to do something profoundly Christian:
Look directly into the eyes of the agents standing before you.
Not with hatred.
Not with fear.
Not with superiority.
But with the same Spirit that filled Jesus and Stephen.
Let your eyes say:
“You are more than your orders.”
“You are more than your uniform.”
“You are loved by God.”
“You can choose a different way.”
Because sometimes the most powerful sermon is preached without a microphone.
A Call to the Agents Themselves
To the men and women who stand behind the barricades, who carry the weapons, who enforce the policies:
You are not beyond redemption.
You are not trapped in the role the state has assigned you.
You are not defined by the orders you follow.
You can lay down your arms.
You can repent.
You can ask for God’s forgiveness.
You can follow Jesus — the One who sees you, knows you, and calls you by name.
The kingdom of God has always grown through people who walked away from violence and toward mercy.
Matthew was a tax collector.
Paul was a persecutor.
The centurion at the cross became a witness.
And Stephen’s prayer planted the seed that would one day turn Saul into an apostle.
No one is beyond the reach of grace.
A Final Word
Forgiveness is not weakness.
Repentance is not defeat.
Laying down arms is not surrender.
These are the acts that change history.
Jesus showed us the way.
Stephen followed it.
And now the Spirit invites us to walk it too.
May our protests be marked not only by courage, but by compassion.
Not only by truth, but by mercy.
Not only by resistance, but by the hope that even those who oppose us may one day stand beside us as brothers and sisters in Christ.
