This summer, after a gruling month in Spanish, I took a Christian Ethics class here at Lee with Dr. Searcy. At the end of the class I delivered a presentation on Christian Nonviolence. While I had been exposed to some of this work in the past, largly thanks to my Pastor and the hooligans he hung around with in Durham, I was deeply gripped and amazed by this vision unfolded in my own research that painted such a beautiful and attractive picture of the King and his cross. There’s alot more I really want to post in the next week or so. I don’t think I can keep this stuff to myself. But here is my project as I delivered it. I don’t pretend to have figured all of this out, but if you have ever wrestled with the issues of politics, war and peace, and what these things mean in the context of following Jesus, I think you find something here to think about.
In a topic as complicated and emotional as war and peace, I need to express first that the terms Christian Pacifism, Christian nonviolence, or Christian Peace-making are not really good at describing the kind disavowal of violence that being a disciple of Jesus asks of us. Secondly, there’s more on the plate here that I have time to bring to you today. Let me begin by stressing what Christian Non-Violence is not.
While I am a huge fan of music from the 1960s & 1970s, especially the music created by those such as John Lennon and the Beatles, Christian non-violence is not merely founded in some sentimental call to just “give peace a chance” nor in the flowery love espoused by those of that era. It is not merely a plea that “if we could just get to know one another better we wouldn’t want to kill each other.” To realize the stupidity of that appeal, as a great theologian has pointed out, one has to look no further than one’s own family. Christian non-violence is also not simply about ridding the world of war, a point I will return to. Pacifists are often confronted with a quote attributed to Edmund Burke stating that “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” I want to suggest that the Non-violence as derived from the work of the tradition of John Howard Yoder is not about doing nothing, but says, that a very good man has done something and that we are called to follow him in the kind of life rooted in that very same kind of something, that is the hard wood of the cross.
Then what is Christian Non-Violence? John Howard Yoder has said in his book The Politics of Jesus that, “To be a disciple [of Jesus] is to share in that style of life of which the cross is the culmination.” To understand this approach, I draw attention to the vocation of Jesus. Rooted in the story of Israel, Jesus was given the task of fulfilling the role Israel had miserably failed, that is, of saving and redeeming all of creation from its degeneration into evil or sin; to use the language of N.T. Wright, he was sent “to put the world to rights.” Jesus speaks of the Kingdom of God as finally being within our grasps. Since the Babylonians had driven Israel into exile in 588 B.C., Israel had been under the dominion of pagan rule. Caesar’s face was on the money, and Israel was fervently waiting for someone to deliver them out of oppression, to give Rome the justice that she had coming to her, and for an anointed son of David to reestablish the Kingdom of God’s people.
This Kingdom, spoken of by Jesus, to be established was not meant to simply be a spiritual reality, off somewhere above the clouds, but to be as in the Lord’s Prayer found in Matt. 6:10, “on earth as it is in heaven.” But what we find time and time again in the Gospel narratives is that Jesus refuses the multiple temptations to take his world through violence. Continually, Jesus is presented with the option to rouse up the crowds around him, storm the Roman fortresses and reclaim the City of God. Yoder makes a convincing argument that what Jesus rejects in the temptations in both the wilderness and the garden is of both quietism and the attractive option of crusade. Jesus takes on a heavy mantle of love and becomes a servant.
Central to Christian Non-Violence is the unity of what Jesus said and who he actually was. In both the Sermon on the Mount and the Sermon on the Plain, Jesus lays out his radical alternative for life in God’s Kingdom that turns on its head the wisdom of the world. Jesus announces that who God considers to be blessed are not those the world does.
There are six antitheses where he tells us that you have heard it was said such and such, but then goes on to say something very different. Many cases, he goes beyond what’s written in the law, appealing to the dispositions of our hearts. Ethicist and theologian Stanley Hauerwas is known for making the claim that the Sermon on the Mount is not Jesus’ ethic, but that it is Jesus. His teachings are not separate from the grace giving suffering love that is displayed in his death on the cross. Yoder notes on page 61 in The Politics of Jesus that,
“Here at the cross is the man who loves his enemies, the man whose righteousness is greater than that of the Pharisees, who being rich became poor, who gives his robe to those who took his cloak, who prays for those who spitefully use him. The cross is not a detour or a hurdle on the way to the kingdom, not is it even the way to the Kingdom; it is the Kingdom come.”
Sometimes advocates of war will point to the numerous times in the Old Testament where it seems that God has no problems with violent military actions by his people Israel. I don’t have time to articulate completely a pacifist understanding of the Old Testament. But I must quickly point out that the theme, again and again, of God’s attitude towards Israel in the Old Testament is for her to trust in God for her defense and victory over her enemies against trust in her ability to make war and kill.
As New Testament scholar Richard B. Hays points out in his book The Moral Vision of the New Testament, “If irreconcilable tensions exist between the moral vision of the New Testament and that of particular Old Testament texts, the New Testament vision trumps the Old Testament.” He points to circumcision and the dietary laws, and the New Testament’s superseding the Old’s permission of divorce. “So also,” he continues, “Jesus’ explicit teaching and example of nonviolence reshapes our understanding of God and of the covenant community in such a way that killing enemies is no longer a justifiable option.” In Matthew 6:43-48 Jesus says,
‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.’
Hays notes, “that once those words are spoken to us, we cannot appeal back to Samuel as a counterexample to Jesus.”
The question that inevitably comes to us is what about World War II? Should Christians fight against Hitler? Hays responds with the question, “What if Christians had refused to fight for Hitler?” Advocates for Just-War often cite Romans 13 as a source for an understanding in being subordinate to the governing authorities, as Christians, including military service. Lest we forget, the good Lutherans of Germany used exactly these texts in fighting in the Gestapo, participating in the Holocaust, and killing for Hitler. What Just-War theorists often neglect is that Caesar is also among those who are called to repent. They also leave out of the discussion the verses immediately preceding Romans 13. In Romans 12:14-21, Paul instructs us,
“Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly;* do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God;* for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ No, ‘if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
I quickly want to draw attention to Father George Zabelka, the Catholic Chaplin who administered mass to the squadron of men who bombed Hiroshima & Nagasaki. Repenting of his complacency he said,
“To fail to speak to the utter moral corruption of the mass destruction of civilians was to fail as a Christian and as a priest as I see it…I was there, and I’ll tell you that the operational moral atmosphere in the church in relation to mass bombing of enemy civilians was totally indifferent, silent, and corrupt at best—at worst it was religiously supportive of these activities by blessing those who did them…Catholics dropped the A-bomb on top of the largest and first Catholic city in Japan. One would have thought that I, as a Catholic priest, would have spoken out against the atomic bombing of nuns. (Three orders of Catholic sisters were destroyed in Nagasaki that day.) One would have thought that I would have suggested that as a minimal standard of Catholic morality, Catholics shouldn’t bomb Catholic children. I didn’t. I, like the Catholic pilot of the Nagasaki plane, “The Great Artiste,” was an heir to a Christianity that had for seventeen hundred years engaged in revenge, murder, torture, the pursuit of power, and prerogative violence, all in the name of our Lord….I was the Catholic chaplin who was there when this grotesque process that began with Constantine reached its lowest point—so far.”
As Christians, we must look at our enemies through the eyes of Jesus when he weeps over Jerusalem because “the things that make for peace” where hidden from their eyes. As Stanley Hauerwas has said numerous times, “the greatest sacrifice of war is not the sacrifice of life, great as such a sacrifice may be, but rather the sacrifice of our unwillingness to kill. That sacrifice, that is, the sacrifice of our unwillingness to kill, is why war is at once so morally compelling and morally perverse.”
As I know personally, in addition to returning from Korea with the scars and wounds represented in a purple medal that sits in my grandfather’s living room, men like my grandfather, who have seen the horrible reality of war, with friends blown to pieces at their side, know what it is to kill. It is a commonly attested experience that veterans rarely want to speak of their experience in battle. The silence that war creates in our fathers and grandfathers is an illustration that life is not ours to take; life, for Christians, is a gift. Please remember that Christian nonviolence is not about ridding the world of war, for we believe that when God the Father sent his only son to die a bloody death on the cross, that once and forever, war has already been abolished.