Pacifism and the ‘God will save me’ mistake

There is a widely shared story of the man who arrives in heaven and complains that God hadn’t saved him from a flood. But says God: “I sent a guy in a 4 wheel drive when the water was still low, but you spurned that, saying ‘God will save me’. I sent a boat to save you, but you spurned that, saying ‘God will save me’. Then finally I sent a helicopter, and you spurned that, saying ‘God will save me’. So now you’re here earlier than you should have been, depriving the world of your talents…”

Isn’t this what the Christian pacifist does? They choose to ignore God’s way to control evil in the world, refusing the help of armies or even, if they are really consistent, the police. ‘For the one in authority is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason. They are God’s servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.’ (Romans 13). Are not pacifists making the same mistake as the man in the flood?

More broadly their refusal to be part of armies or the police, quoting Jesus’ comments about not resisting the evil man, fall apart in the face of the reality of parenting. Surely there is a role of parents in using force and ensuring justice for their children; if Molly is beating up her little brother Timothy, it is clearly the duty of the parent to address this sin / evil / breach of justice. In doing so the parents are fulfilling a role that they have voluntarily adopted, especially these days. Yet our pacifist co-religionists fail to extend a similar legitimation to Christian officers of the state. Is this coherent?

As ever with pacifist arguments, once the dam is breached, the rest of the case for Christians to enforce the law with force must be admitted; if it is my duty to protect Timothy from Molly as a parent, it is surely equally my duty to protect Timothy from the rampaging criminal. If I can do that as a parent, I can surely do it as a officer of the law. And if I can use force to stop the local criminal, it follows that I can use the police to protect a small island from pirates, or an army to protect a state from invaders.

Overall, pacifism is a good example of a bad idea that has been far more influential in Christian circles than it should have been. Ultimately its roots are similar to those of the ‘Prosperity Gospel’, assuming that God will intervene to give good health and financial prosperity, rather than engage with the whole of scripture. We are told to ‘test all things’. We need to do better.

[Historical note: the state of Pennsylvania was founded by the Quakers, who are pacifists, and for many years survived without any organised militia – though presumably sheriffs maintained order. However when the French encouraged the Native Americans to begin attacking the outlying settlements of state, the Quakers had no answer to the problem, and abandoned their control of the government.

Pacifism – a mistake Christians too often make

‘Thou shalt not kill’ (Exodus 20)

‘But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer.’ (Matthew 7)

In this blog I shall look at these two verses, then address church history before offering my own justification for rejecting pacifism.

The Scriptures

The translation of one of the ten commandments as a condemnation of ‘killing’ as opposed to ‘murder’ dates from Wycliffe’s translation, and is also found in the Geneva bible as well as the King James. However in context it makes no sense; in the following chapter, capital punishment is commanded for a number of crimes including murder and kidnapping. It is clear therefore that the translation offered by many, more modern translations of ‘you shall not murder’ is more accurate.

The Matthew 7 passage has often been taken to demand a more radical attitude of Christians. There are two specific elements to keep in mind; the first is the argument that many of Jesus’ teachings are not intended to be taken literally, seeking to make His point by hyperbole. This reflects the style of teaching of the rabbis of the time, and is what we in fact do with many others of His teachings.

‘They are God’s servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.’ (Romans 13) This is clear teaching that we are to be protected from evil by the state; we need to bear in mind that Paul was writing this at a time when the Roman state was an aggressive, imperialistic occupier of Judaea. Given this context, the pacifist Christian needs to assert that they can never accept a role in the state – but see below.

A final consideration is that Paul chose the equipment of a soldier as the basis for his teaching about the armour of God (Ephesians 6). If such individuals were by definition evil as a result of their profession, then it is odd that Paul chose the image; indeed I remember a liberal Rector once objecting to the imagery on that basis!

Two challenging Old Testament passages

These are fascinating. Firstly:

‘These are the nations the Lord left to test all those Israelites who had not experienced any of the wars in Canaan (he did this only to teach warfare to the descendants of the Israelites who had not had previous battle experience): the five rulers of the Philistines, all the Canaanites, the Sidonians, and the Hivites living in the Lebanon mountains from Mount Baal Hermon to Lebo Hamath. They were left to test the Israelites to see whether they would obey the Lord’s commands, which he had given their ancestors through Moses.’ (Judges 3)

Let’s read that again:

‘[God] did this only to teach warfare to the descendants of the Israelites who had not had previous battle experience’

Wow! A reminder that God’s agenda is not necessarily what we are comfortable with.

Secondly:

‘King David rose to his feet and said: “Listen to me, my fellow Israelites, my people. I had it in my heart to build a house as a place of rest for the ark of the covenant of the Lord, for the footstool of our God, and I made plans to build it. But God said to me, ‘You are not to build a house for my Name, because you are a warrior and have shed blood.’ (1 Chronicles 28)

Note that God does endorse Solomon to build the temple despite the fact that he was also involved in warfare. Perhaps God is hinting at David’s murder of Uriah, or perhaps it reflects the fact that he did kill people himself, starting from Goliath. Certainly overall the Old Testament gives no excuse to argue for an absolute ban on involvement in warfare.

Church history

It is widely asserted that the early church opposed military service. Much is said on the topic, and the view of the early church seems to be very mixed, with strong defences of pacifism from both Origen and Tertullian, yet there is clear evidence of Christians being present at all levels in the Roman army and government before Constantine. Ronald Sider, who is from a church that holds a pacifist position, has produced a book based on his PhD that offers the primary sources on the topic. The conclusion that seems to emerge is that there wasn’t a clear consensus on the matter, and it is important to recognise that the religious component of army service muddies the waters.

With the Roman Empire becoming Christian, the issue almost entirely disappears, though a few marginal groups seem to endorse it. However at the time of the Reformation, two significant groups adopt a pacifist stand: the Anabaptists – who develop into the Mennonites and Amish – as well as the Quakers. Tolstoy also adopts it as part of his theology in the late 19^th century. The problem of the approach was demonstrated when the pre-revolutionary Quaker dominated government of Pennsylvania collapsed in the face of the Indian war, for which the state, lacking a militia, was ill prepared. Twentieth century conscription led to a number of responses, ranging from active battlefield involvement in non-combat roles (thus the Quaker Ambulance Service) via other forms of service – such as farm work – through to total resistance to any involvement.

Tolstoy adopted pacifism as part of his theology in the late 19^th century, and this influenced Gandhi’s non-violence ideology, with whom Tolstoy was in correspondence. The idealism of the 60s reinvigorated the idea, with the Beatles’ song ‘All You Need is Love’ being the proselytising anthem of the movement, though for many the chaos ensuing from the sixties led to disenchantment. This simplistic idealism leaked into parts of the church after the 60s, perhaps encouraging naïve attitudes to the Soviet and other dictatorships in 70s, as well as strengthening opposition to nuclear weapons, though a significant element in the church adopted a belief in nuclear pacifism, arguing that ‘a war involving nuclear weapons is not a winnable or “just” war, and is unjustifiable because of its uniquely devastating consequences’.

Theological considerations

The traditional ‘move’ in the ethical debate is to separate the role of the Christian as an individual from what they do as a officer of state. This is criticised by the pacifist tradition in favour of arguing that it is God’s command not to resist evil / take revenge etc., and this is not challenged by the change of hats. It is my contention that this fails to note the role of parents in using force and ensuring justice for their children; if Molly is beating up her little brother Timothy, it is clearly the duty of the parent to address this sin / evil / breach of justice. In doing so the parents are fulfilling a role that they have voluntarily adopted, especially these days. Yet our pacifist co-religionists fail to extend a similar legitimation to Christian officers of the state. Is this coherent?

Once the dam is breached, the rest of the case for Christians to enforce the law with force must be admitted; if it is my duty to protect Timothy from Molly as a parent, it is surely equally my duty to protect Timothy from the rampaging criminal. If I can do that as a parent, I can surely do it as a officer of the law. And if I can use force to stop the local criminal, it follows that I can use the police to protect a small island from pirates, or an army to protect a state from invaders. It’s interesting to note that modern pacifists focus on military activities, and usually draw a distinction between that and the police role of maintain law and order in a society. This distinction presumably was accepted in Pennsylvania under Quaker rule; a feature of the persecution suffered by the pacifist Mennonites in Europe was that they were subject to crimes and were not protected by their host state.

Conclusion

Despite its relatively respectable heritage, the idea that pacifism is mandated by the bible does not seem correct. Instead it is best seen as an acceptable idea, but one that we should be careful about imposing on believers; one of those ideas that Paul seeks to defuse debate about in Romans 14. To my mind, the main objection to the idea is the impact on evangelism; it can become a barrier to considering becoming Christians to be told they should forgo state protection, though most modern pacifists do allow seeking police protection. Yet such a test must not be applied too widely, as there is a dangerous temptation to water down the requirements of church involvement; as ever these issues need clear thinking – aka ‘theology’. The modern church is not good at this!

Introducing Tolstoy’s religion

This is a brief blog to introduce the religious beliefs of Count Leo Tolstoy. This Russian aristocrat of the late 19^th century (he died in 1910) was the writer of the ‘War and Peace‘ and ‘Anna Karenina‘ amongst others. Following something of the arc of Solomon recorded in Ecclesiastes, he obtained all that he could want, but still could not find satisfaction. Initially he adopted a nihilist attitude to life, barely resisting the temptation to follow its logic and commit suicide because life is meaningless, instead chose to investigate religion. In the course of this he committed himself to drinking deep of Russian Orthodox, but in the end found that unsatisfactory. Travelling to Western Europe, he also engaged with some forms of Protestantism. Neither of these met his deepest need. He also had contact with proponents of Islam, Buddhism, Judaism and Hinduism. In the end he came to the conclusion that all religions actually endorse the same basic belief – but have come, over the years, to hide this in the complexities of their formulations. He also rejects any possibility of miracles, rejecting any definitive statement about what happens after life, though hinting there is some continuity.

He claims that the truth of all religions is:

• There is a God who is the origin of everything
• there is an element of the divine origin in every person
• this is increased or decreased by how they choose to live
• to increase this, he must suppress his passions and increase the love within himself
• the practical means of achieving this consists of doing to others as you would have them do to you. p. 119-120

and

‘The peculiarity of the Christian teaching lies only in the fact that, being the last(sic), it uses greater precision and clarity to express the essence of the law of love and the guidance for conduct that follows from it.’ p. 173

I find this conclusion striking and depressing for many reasons. The most obvious is that he is totally blind to the role of God’s grace in Christianity, instead seeing only the duty to shape oneself for the better. This emphasis is one that is routinely criticised by evangelists, though I suspect that for many religion has become detached from any substantial expectation of personal discipline, with an emphasis on the comforts of religion, elegantly criticised in Packer’s ‘Hot tub religion‘. Yet it is the claim that all religions are actually the same that has been the most pernicious over the past century, generating much confusion as well as delegitimising Christian evangelism in the eyes of many. This is the de facto belief of much of the establishment, demonstrated by the equal treatment displayed to most religions by such institutions as the BBC and schools. A specific blooming of his attitudes is seen in Gandi’s beliefs, both in his anti-violence and his marginalisation of the specific beliefs of Hinduism, most obviously the caste system. Tolstoy was in correspondence with Gandi.

The value of knowing the roots, of knowing where ideas emerged from, is that we can challenge those who hold them to justify them more precisely. Although Tolstoy’s anti-miracle stance is inherited from the sceptics of the 18th century enlightenment, his claim that all religions are the same is largely new, although Sikhism’s attempt to reconcile Islam and Hinduism, and the Bahai’s of Christianity and Islam derive from the same idea. Yet the reality is that ideas within them DO conflict unreconcilably; ignoring them requires an appeal to another source of authority, and in doing so implies a rejection of the religion(s) that you are reconciling. At least Sikhism and the Bahais are honest enough organise new forms; the adoption of this approach by those continuing to assert their faithfulness to the original religion is surely more dubious.

Pacifism and parenting – a new point in the pacifist debate?

I’ve been engaging with the debate over pacifism recently as a subtext of my studies in Constantine. Much is said on the topic, and the view of the early church seems to be very mixed, with strong defences of pacifism from both Origen and Tertullian, yet there is clear evidence of Christians being present at all levels in the Roman army and government before Constantine. Following his rise to power, pacifism was largely rejected, although a continuing strand discouraged ex-soldiers from being given clerical office. By the middle ages it had become an ideal for some monks, but the crusades and the military orders – Templars, Hospitalers and Teutonic Knights amongst others = demonstrate that on the whole church was reconciled to the use of force.

The Reformation reopened the debate, and the Anabaptist tradition espoused most visibily in recent years by Yoder and subsequently made more popular by the efforts of Hauerwas seeks to justify a strongly pacifist interpretation of the New Testament. This follows quite naturally from some of the comments of Jesus about ‘turning the other cheek’. The problem comes when this is taken to exclude Christians from any coercive role in a state; as Constantine’s defenders point out, are we to tell the office holder in the state to resign if they become a Christian?

The traditional ‘move’ in the ethical debate is to separate the role of the Christian as an individual from what they do as a officer of state. This is criticised by the pacifist tradition in favour of arguing that it is God’s command not to resist evil / take revenge etc, and this is not challenged by the change of hats. It is my contention that this fails to note the role of parents in using force and ensuring justice for their children; if Molly is beating up her little brother Timothy, it is clearly the duty of the parent to address this sin / evil / breach of justice. In doing so the parents are fulfilling a role that they have voluntarily adopted, especially these days. Yet our pacifist co-religionists fail to extend a similar legitimation to Christian officers of the state. Is this coherent?

As ever with pacifist arguments, once the dam is breached, the rest of the case for Christians to enforce the law with force must be admitted; if it is my duty to protect Timothy from Molly as a parent, it is surely equally my duty to protect Timothy from the rampaging criminal. If I can do that as a parent, I can surely do it as a officer of the law. And if I can use force to stop the local criminal, it follows that I can use the police to protect a small island from pirates, or an army to protect a state from invaders.