Matthew 7:12

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Lord Jesus, break down each of our strongholds. Let us become real, no longer lukewarm. May we break free from our worldly goals. Our lives in Your hands, we call for reform. No glory for self be found in Your church. Your Spirit in us be now awoken. For as You have said: “the last will be first.” Us, not satisfied, ’til we be broken. To be low, our portion and cup, displays Your Divine Light. For then, we may lift others up and become more like Christ.

The Golden Rule: A Beacon Amidst the Shadows of Religious Violence

On August 24, 2025, we mark the somber anniversary of the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, a dark chapter in 1572 when religious fervor turned to bloodshed in France. Triggered by the failed assassination of Huguenot leader Admiral Gaspard de Coligny, the violence erupted in Paris and spread across the nation, claiming thousands of Protestant lives. Historians estimate the death toll ranged from 5,000 to 30,000, with some contemporary accounts suggesting up to 70,000. Queen Catherine de’ Medici, mother of King Charles IX, is widely regarded as the architect of this carnage, fearing exposure after the botched plot against Coligny. What began as targeted killings of Huguenot nobles devolved into mob frenzy, with Catholic crowds slaughtering Protestants in the streets, homes, and even churches. This event, often celebrated in Catholic circles at the time, exemplifies how institutional power can sanction murder under the guise of faith. Yet, it stands in stark opposition to the core of Christian teaching: the Golden Rule articulated by Jesus in Matthew 7:12—“Therefore, whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.”

The Golden Rule is not a mere platitude but a profound summation of ethical living, as early Church Father John Chrysostom elucidated in his homily on Matthew. Chrysostom emphasized that Jesus’ words are relational and practical: “If you want to be heard, do these things in addition to those about which I have already spoken.” He clarified that the rule grounds virtue in human nature, making excuses of ignorance untenable. We inherently know to treat others with the fairness we crave for ourselves as fellow servants. This command flows from the Sermon on the Mount’s broader context, where Jesus urges generosity mirroring God’s (Matthew 7:7–11), transforming the law from rigid stone tablets to a heart-centered ethic (Jeremiah 31:33). In essence, the Golden Rule exposes our self-centeredness: Are we ruled by pride, or broken in humility for Christ?

The St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre gruesomely illustrates a betrayal of this principle. Far from embodying reciprocal love, it represented sanctioned violence by Roman Catholic leadership, deepening the chasm between Catholics and Protestants. The massacre’s fruits—emigration, forced conversions, and international outrage—reveal a faith entangled with political ambition, where murder was justified to preserve power. Jesus warned in Matthew 7:15–20 that we know people by their fruits, and here the harvest was blood-soaked. Roman Catholicism’s history, marked by events like this, has often claimed infallibility while committing egregious sins, from inquisitions to crusades. Such actions contradict the Golden Rule’s call to empathy and nonviolence, turning religion into a tool of domination rather than discipleship.

In contrast, the Anabaptist tradition offers a luminous example of the Golden Rule lived out. Emerging during the Reformation, Anabaptists rejected state-sponsored Christianity, insisting that true faith demands obedience in community and personal life. Figures like Hans Denck proclaimed, “No one can truly know Christ unless he follows Him in life,” emphasizing discipleship over doctrine alone. Pilgram Marpeck taught that “love is the rule of all Christian conduct,” fulfilling the law through nonresistance and service. Menno Simons echoed this, asserting that genuine faith “cannot lie dormant; it clothes the naked, feeds the hungry, comforts the sorrowful.” Anabaptists refused violence, oaths, and coercion, viewing them as violations of Matthew 7:12—treating others as one wishes to be treated means choosing the cross over the sword. Persecuted by both Catholics and Protestants, they embodied Christ’s upside-down kingdom: “The last shall be first” (Matthew 20:16). Their nonviolent witness, rooted in biblical nonresistance, starkly opposes the massacre’s brutality, showing that brokenness for Christ yields humility, not hatred.

Systematically, the Golden Rule unites love of God and neighbor. While some reduce it to mere neighborly ethics, it flows from devotion to the Divine—all true compassion stems from God’s love. For Anabaptists, belief and action were inseparable; theology was practiced, not pondered in abstraction. In a world of strongholds like materialism and political idolatry, living the Golden Rule demands tearing down self-promotion and lukewarmness. Practically, it applies in families through forgiveness, in churches by exalting Christ over ego, and in society by rejecting exploitation and violence. The Anabaptist refusal of worldly power reminds us that Christ’s kingdom is “not of this world” (John 18:36), offering a counter to the massacre’s legacy of coercion.

Apologetically, the Golden Rule’s universality bolsters its truth. Critics dismiss it as subjective, yet it resonates across cultures because God inscribed it on every heart (Romans 2:14–15). From Confucianism to Hinduism, echoes exist, but only in Christ does it gain transformative power—grace enabling us to live it amid persecution. This truth exposes the hypocrisy of religious violence: Even those who orchestrated the massacre expected fairness, yet denied it to others.

In conclusion, Matthew 7:12 is the heart of discipleship, a call to wholeness through brokenness. The St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre’s sanctioned slaughter contrasts sharply with the Golden Rule’s mandate for reciprocal love, highlighting how power corrupts faith. Yet, the Anabaptist path shows redemption: In humility and nonviolence, we reflect Christ’s light.