Christian Pacifism

On the Turning Away…

On September 9, 1980, five years after the Vietnam War and a mere four years from the celebration of America’s Bicentennial, an activist group called the Plowshares Eight broke into a General Electric plant in Pennsylvania and hammered violently on the nose cones destined to cap nuclear warheads. This was not the first kinetic protest for at least two of the activists, the brothers Daniel and Philip Berrigan. The Berrigans were well known among the Catholic antiwar and antiviolence community, following the tradition forged by others like Justin Martyr and Dorothy Day before them. Pacifism rooted in their Christian faith could not exist as mere doctrine or theory; for these men and women it must move from Word to action.

Christian pacifism is more than opposition to war; it is an intentional assumption of the reality of the peaceable Kingdom of God as inaugurated by the coming of Jesus. Shalom is the pervasive state of being in that kingdom as the Bible describes it, and the pacifist insists we are to labor for that peace in every situation, regardless of the personal cost. Because the pacifists within the Church usually gain the ‘activist’ label and seen as outliers from the rest of millions of believers, the central question to be addressed is not why they govern their lives by a biblical principle of peace at all costs, but what interpretative framework has enabled most Christians to respond indifferently to this issue and view non-violence as an optional belief?

The Berrigans did not root their pacifist worldview in philosophy alone. They interpreted the Bible as though it meant what it said and that the word of God demanded obedience and action. The Plowshares movement involved in the Pennsylvania protest took its name from the beautiful passage in Isaiah chapter 2 [cf. Micah 4:1-5] about the peace of the Kingdom welcoming all people to come under its comforting protection. Verse 4 paints a powerful picture of the core of this divine promise:

He will judge between the nations
and will settle disputes for many peoples.
They will beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
nor will they train for war anymore.

Isaiah 2:4

Father Daniel pointed to this verse as his authority to action, to be moved toward “doing it.” (Kierkegaard). “To the Plowshares community, this text of Isaiah has been a summons—a vigorous word, a word that sets the human in motion.”  [1]

Isaiah’s prophetic allusion to future kingdom peace is not a one-off reference. A handful of chapters later, he prophesies that the warrior’s tools will again no longer be necessary, saying, “Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.” [Isaiah 9:5] The prophecy does not end with just foretelling peace at some undefined point; it continues saying that this peace will come with the Messiah:

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty
will accomplish this.

Isaiah 9:6-7

As Jesus makes his gospel announcement then, “The kingdom of God has come near” [Mark 1:15], believers should see prophecy fulfillment and take to heart both the present reality of that kingdom and the different life expected of its citizens. If Jesus is the Prince of Peace, then the lives of his people are to be marked by shalom. The pacifist presses this claim to its logical end: there can be no situation in which violence can be the solution to any situation for the Christian.

It is the authority of Scripture and its application to life that separates Christian pacifism from its secular-humanist counterpart. In simple terms, the humanist chooses the path of pacifism because the consequences of violence and war are damaging to other humans, both aggressor and defender alike. The argument assumes that all people can see this harm and come to the same ethical position, wanting to avoid the pain of violence, everyone living happily counting on everyone else wanting them to live happily. Fallen human nature, however, inveighs against this. The Christian pacifist is more clear-eyed about the damaged souls of humanity and obeys a different authority; he or she takes Jesus and His kingdom seriously and obeys the imperative to ‘turn [to them] the other cheek also” and seeks the blessing of being a ‘peacemaker.’

Father Berrigan’s application of Isaiah 2:4 reveals a core tenet of the committed pacifists within the Church: they hold firmly to the belief that the kingdom of God is a present reality in the world right now, even though it is not yet fully realized. This immediacy of the Kingdom of God is to prompt an urgency in the believer to live by kingdom values and ethics now and witness to this truth. A specific ‘existential’ hermeneutic is in view here, best explained by Kierkegaard [2] and his description of the Bible as a mirror. He argued the scriptures are perfectly clear, and the Bible presents truth in such a way that it should provoke a radical, life-changing response in the believer. To read the words of Jesus concerning non-violence and the seeking of peace is to hear a command to citizens of the Kingdom to live their lives in a like fashion. In the same stream of thought, Kierkegaard says that Jesus is not a historical figure simply to be admired; He is a prototype for Christian living. The Lord’s portrait in Scripture is given as it is to move us to imitate His life. If Jesus was non-violent and seeking peace in all He does, so must we. From this hermeneutic, the philosopher insists, believers must reach the conclusion that taking a life in war (or other violent action) is inconsistent with kingdom values and the teaching of Jesus. From this hermeneutic a pacifist is born.

As with many of the modern applications of biblical truth to the life of a believer, the interpretive framework one brings to the teachings of Christ is going to be a major determinant of what position you take on pacifism, and to a further extent, general non-violence. Shalom-Peace is a holistic concept extending beyond the lack of war or physical violence. In the biblical sense, the idea of wholeness communicated by shalom expands our idea of how we will pursue peace; it includes the principle of non-violence but justice as well. Will the same invitation to sacrifice your other cheek call you to sacrifice your treasure, time, and life to see similarly violent injustices continue unabated? A pacifist can insist that they will not join the military and kill another human being in war while still turning a blind eye to the oppression and discrimination that visits equally detrimental violence on those same people. Jesus is clear that citizens of His kingdom will live differently. Their lives, marked by kingdom principles, will serve as a winsome invitation for others to commit to Jesus and have their lives shaped by the same values. Early church father Tertullian offers further reasoning attributed to the redemptive project of which the kingdom is a part. He teaches Christians dare not take the life of a person whom Christ purposes to redeem.

Unlike the clear prohibition against murder in the Ten Commandments­­–“You shall not murder.” [Exodus 20:13]–the Messiah gives no such direct command. Instead (cf. Kierkegaard), Jesus offers Christians the prototype of His life of peace, a life that was studiously non-violent, modeling the ideal for citizens of the Kingdom of God. The kingdom principles He teaches are embodied in the life He leads, teaching His followers that this life is not only possible but desirable. There are many avenues to peace and even to the well-being of shalom. Pacifism in the Christian community chooses that path which they interpret as most closely adhering to the Lord’s teachings and the model of His life. Many within the kingdom will not elect to walk that same path, but there is much to be gained by giving their framework and principles a second look.

Notes:

[1] Isaiah. Berrigan, Daniel. Fortress Press.

[2] cf: Christian Discourses and Works of Love, Kierkegaard, Soren

The Price of Pacifism

Is pacifism a luxury belief?

Pacifism is not a philosophy defined by a single belief. It encompasses a range of positions regarding nonviolence in the face of aggression. Pacifism is a costly position. The reality of violence will demand a costly response, ranging from complete surrender on principle to the use of overwhelming force in defense. The cost of holding a pacifist position requires consideration, as these costs cannot be avoided or dismissed. Pacifism for one comes at the expense of another who will use force in defense of the right to hold that ideal. Philosophy like this is very costly.

Twentieth-century philosopher Bertrand Russell was a pacifist. He summarized his position by saying that “[T]here is almost always a way, though sometimes a much slower way, of doing things without violence.” Russell invited people to view war with the same revulsion that they view the murder of an individual, and he sought widespread adoption of his idealism from the supposed safety of the academy. His ethic, developed through a mindset of consequentialism [1], set the foundation for his nonviolence ethic. The calculus for arriving at this moral position was binary for him: he believed that war is always bad and produces no good outcome; therefore, we must avoid it at all costs. For Russell, pacifism was not a passive moral position. He lived out his beliefs as he stood in active opposition to World War I, writing for pacifist publications, protesting the government’s conscription of young men, and advocating for many to adopt the mantle of conscientious objectors. The exercise of his principles was costly. Russell lost his university position and was later jailed by the British government for his attacks on their foreign policies. Russell paid an extraordinary price to remain true to his position of nonviolence.

With a historical event like either of the World Wars, we can perform a thought exercise involving the adoption of nonviolence as a system of political belief. Suppose Russell were successful in persuading the Crown and the entirety of the British Empire to adopt pacifism. Would nonviolence have persuaded the German coalition to drop their weapons as they examined the consequential outcomes of the war for themselves? This simple case study points to the multifaceted nature of examining pacifism. In its most straightforward application, pacifism is the belief that war or any kind of violence is not to be used to resolve conflicts. This is a good and admirable, even desirable, position if it can be a principle that avoides fighting. To stand in an extreme position on refusing to meet violence with violence, an individual must be prepared to give their life as the cost of their stand. Pacifism on the national level requires a second consideration. If, like Russell, an individual will pay any societal cost for adopting this position, then it is a noble stand and one’s life can be arranged in such a way as to adhere to it. The cost of adopting pacifism as a political philosophy that governs a nation containing several million individuals becomes much more costly in a world filled with potential aggressors who do not share the same belief. The cost of extinction by their violence is not a price all will be willing to pay, nor should they be expected to.

Over time, Bertrand Russell changed positions on his commitment to nonviolence. The philosophy of pacifism has a history of evolving as it collides with reality. Nonviolence is not a monolith but a graduated spectrum of degrees of absolutism. Russell’s initial position was ‘absolute nonviolence.’ This was characterized by the belief that all violence of any degree was always morally wrong. The absolutist position would maintain that even in situations of self-defense or protection against a greater evil, violence is not to be used. The cost of adopting this position on the nonviolence spectrum is quite high unless every other human and human institution adopts the same position. (This question of absolute non-violence is examined further in the next essay about Christian Pacifism and the command to “turn the other cheek.”) Shortly after the initiation of World War II, Russell’s view of pacifism changed from an absolute position to what he referred to as ‘relative political pacifism.’ It is notable that here again, consequentialist reasoning moderates his position. Russell continues to believe that war is always evil, but faced with the violence of war, engaging the enemy might be the lesser evil in contrast to the aggression. In a calculation of cost/benefit, the price of nonviolence in the face of aggression and the potential loss of national sovereignty from an invasion of his home, Russell judged the evil of aggression to be greater than the evil of fighting back and stepped back from the extreme position.

Approaching a discussion of nonviolence requires the consideration of multiple arguments. A central consideration in the adoption of pacifism is how to address the prevalence of violence in the world. Its existence contributes to the evaluation that the price I, as an individual, will absorb is not the same cost that a country must pay to hold the same national belief. A commitment to absolute nonviolence on a nationwide scale demands the agreement of every citizen, each of them clear as to the existential cost of not taking up arms. Should one citizen demur, it would be a dereliction of the social pact to leave them unprotected from violence.

Personal pacifism is noble, and commitment to absolute nonviolence is commendable, but the cost of holding this position is often repressed. If I have the freedom to commit to nonviolence because the nation I live in has a strong military force to protect me from aggression, the cost to me is low. But that cost, however, transfers to those who take part in the defense. Pacifism is a luxury belief in that I can transfer the cost to others. Consider the same scenario borne out on a local level. Nonviolence can be my default when I live behind the walls of a gated community with a strong police force to enforce my separation. Can my neighbors in every part of the community have the same opportunity to exercise their commitment to nonviolence?

A pacifist may object to the theme of this essay on the grounds that it misunderstands or misstates the moral force of their philosophical position. As Russell discovered in his move from an absolute to a more relative position, the principles are challenging to implement. This is partly because pacifists claim that they are not arguing that nonviolence is safe nor free of cost. Their central principle is philosophical rather than practical: participation in violence is morally abhorrent and corrupts the individual or state, even in situations where it appears unavoidable. The arguments surrounding the cost transfer are also nuanced. The pacifist may be fully prepared to surrender their life or freedom rather than abandon the principle of nonviolence. Labeling pacifism as a luxury belief cannot be one-sided. It must take this individual into account.


Pacifism may rightly be viewed as a luxury belief secured by those willing to rise in defense of one who insists on total nonviolence. Until the world is at peace and every human being makes a similar pact of nonviolence toward others, the need for security will demand at least some citizens be willing to fight. The range of pacifist positions, moving from absolute nonviolence to the recognition that sometimes violence is thrust upon us, is a spectrum of philosophical ideals that are worth examining. Nonviolence is an excellent position, but it is a costly one.

Notes

  1. Consequentialism is a philosophical view that the moral rightness of any action can be determined by the consequences of that action. If the action produces an overall good, then it is a morally right choice. The opposite is then also true: negative results make an action morally wrong. The most apparent challenge in this philosophical exercise is the determination of ‘good.’

Fitted with the Gospel of Peace

The apostle Paul describes the tools of spiritual warfare in the new covenant world, naming it the Armor of God in the final chapter of Ephesians. In verse 15 we encounter a phrase unique in the Bible when he speaks of feet fitted with readiness, the readiness coming from “the gospel of peace”, a phrase found only here in the Greek New Testament. Paul gives this command as the foundation of our spiritual armor, steadying our life as each of the component parts works together.

This imagery echoes back to the messenger of peace prophesied in Isaiah 52: How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation”.  Though barefoot, this messenger carried the ‘good news’ of peace to those in exile that restoration would be on the way, that their long bondage would be ending. He shouts a message from the mountaintops that peace had been made with the King, enmity had ended. For the reader [hearer] of Paul’s epistle, this imagery could not be missed and was, in fact, amplified by the Apostle’s magisterial writing in Romans.

“For if, when we were god’s enemies, we were reconciled to him though the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved though his life!”  Romans 5:10

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.” Romans 8:1

Those set free by Christ know this peace. The Gospel brought this peace and emboldens the peacemakers. The good news sent from the King to the exiles brought hope and in Jesus, the message came to life. As believers have embraced the message, they have surrendered their sovereignty to the true Sovereign. The announcement of the treaty that followed the Lord’s sacrifice gave definition to peace. Knowing, truly knowing, the peace that comes of the gospel propels the freed soul to share this good news with others. We want those around us to know the same freedom, to enjoy the same peace.

The blessing that comes of the gospel of peace is likewise twofold. We are blessed in salvation and in knowing the peace with God that the forgiveness of sins provides. Blessings are also inherent in the calling to proclaim the good news of peace. To be entrusted with such a precious task and message is to feel the love of God, to know the trust of the King.

“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news…” Isaiah 52:7