You have to hand it to Benjamin Netanyahu; he can tweet a biblical story. But Jesus’ words on forgiveness still stand.

Just recently, at a hospital near Beersheba, about a thousand kilometres from Babylon where the ancient Jews were held captive, Benjamin Netanyahu announced that contemporary Israel was repaying an ancient debt to the Persian ruler, Cyrus the Great, by liberating Iran! “Two thousand five hundred years ago, Cyrus the Great… liberated the Jews,” Netanyahu said, “and today a Jewish state is creating the means to liberate the Persian people.”

But the problem is that Cyrus didn’t drop bombs or kill people. He issued an edict and restored the Jews to their homeland. Netanyahu would have more difficulty manipulating Jesus’ unequivocal words: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (Luke 6:27). The same message is in the sermon on the mount: “You have heard it was said ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also” (Matthew 5:38-40).

Personally, I hadn’t internalised the full impact of Jesus words until I read the insightful Jewish literary critic George Steiner in his autobiography Errata: An Examined Life, where he says that the most unique thing about Christianity is that it believes in forgiveness, even of enemies. “Christ’s ordinance of total love, of self-offering to the assailant,” he says, “is, in any strict sense an enormity. The victim is to love his butcher. A monstrous proposition. But one shedding fathomless light. How are mortal men and women to fulfil it?”

In its absolute form, genuine forgiveness is profoundly difficult and always interacts with a range of other complex psychological reactions and moral obligations.

A radical example of Christian forgiveness came from an Amish community at West Nickel Mines, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania on 2 October 2006. On that day, Charles Roberts, a delivery driver in his early thirties, entered the Amish community’s one roomed school house and killed seven girls and injured four others, all aged between six and twelve. He then killed himself.

What was astonishing was the response of the Amish. On the day of the shooting, a grandfather of one of the murdered girls warned young relatives not to hate the killer, saying, “We must not think evil of this man.” Another Amish father said, “He had a mother and a wife and now he’s standing before a just God.” One local said: “I don’t think there’s anybody here that wants to do anything but forgive and not only reach out to those who have suffered loss, but to reach out to the family of the man who committed these acts.” For these truly Christian people, Jesus’ command of forgiveness was paramount.

While many approved the Amish response, some criticised them, arguing that forgiveness is inappropriate when no remorse has been expressed, and that such an attitude runs the risk of denying the existence of evil. While forgoing vengeance doesn’t undo the tragedy, it does create the possibility of genuine reconciliation and a hopeful future.

In the 21st century, violence has become endemic. Jesus too lived in violent times, but he constantly preached God’s unconditional love, which welcomes and forgives. As Saint Francis of Assisi says: “As you announce peace with your mouth, make sure you have greater peace in your hearts.” Pope Francis added that “no religion is terrorist. Violence profanes the name of God. The name of God cannot be used to justify violence. Peace alone is holy … not war".

The family plays a fundamental role in the evolution of nonviolence. Pope Francis says: “I plead with equal urgency for an end to domestic violence and to the abuse of women and children.”

Throughout the time of preparing this, I’ve been reading ANU strategic studies Professor Hugh White’s Quarterly Essay on Australia’s post-American future. The essay deals with the kind of multipolar world being ushered in by Trump’s foreign policy. “Instead of a unipolar order,” White says, “dominated by an overwhelmingly powerful US, we will see a global multipolar order in which a number of ‘great powers’ play more or less equal roles in shaping world affairs through a complex combination of competition, accommodation and co-operation.” He cites “The example of Europe in the nineteenth century [which] shows how great-power rivalries can be managed to avoid any one power dominating, to allow trade to flourish and (mostly) to keep the peace.” This system was set up by the Congress of Vienna (1815).

If White is right — and I believe he is — the world into which we are entering will need ever more the ability to exercise forgiveness and to build the structures of nonviolence. The skills of negotiation, honest diplomacy, the avoidance of extremism of any sort, whether it be nationalistic or violent religious fundamentalism, or the desire to win at any cost, will have to be developed.

That is the polar opposite of twisting biblical stories to suit aggression.

The views expressed in this article may or may not reflect those of Pearls and Irritations.