PART I: THE TEACHING OF JESUS

The Range of Jesus ’ Teaching on the Subject of War .—There is a sense in which it is true to say that Jesus gave his disciples no explicit teaching on the subject of war. The application of his ethical principles to the concrete affairs of life was not something which could be seen and taught in its entirety from the very first, but was bound to involve a long series of more or less complex problems; and the short lapse and other special conditions of his earthly life rendered it impossible for him to pronounce decisions on more than a very few of these. Upon large tracts of human conduct he rarely or never had occasion to enter, and hence little or no specific teaching of his is recorded concerning them. A familiar instance of this silence of Jesus on a matter on which we none the less have little doubt as to the import of his teaching, is the absence from the Gospels of any explict prohibition of slavery. And what is true of slavery is also true—though to a much more limited extent—of war. Whatever be the bearing of his precepts and his example on the subject, the fact remains that, as far as we know, no occasion presented itself to him for any explicit pronouncement on the question as to whether or not his disciples might serve as soldiers. It does not however follow that no definite conclusion on the point is to be derived from the Gospels. The circumstances of the time suffice to explain why an absolutely definite ruling was not given. Jesus was living and working among Palestinian Jews, among whom the proportion of soldiers and policemen to civilians must have been infinitesimal. No Jew could be compelled to serve in the Roman legions; and there was scarcely the remotest likelihood that any disciple of Jesus would be pressed into the army of Herodes Antipas or his brother Philippos or into the small body of Temple police at Jerusalem. But further, not only can the silence of Jesus on the concrete question be accounted for, without supposing that he had an open mind in regard to it, but a large and important phase of his teaching and practical life cannot be accounted for without the supposition that he regarded acts of war as entirely impermissible to himself and his disciples. The evidence for this last statement is cumulative, and can be adequately appreciated only by a careful examination of the sayings in which Jesus utters general principles that seem to have a more or less direct bearing on war and those in which he explicitly alludes to it, and by an earnest endeavour to arrive at the meaning that is latent in them.

Statements of Jesus inconsistent with the Lawfulness of War for Christians .—I. The first precept of which account has to be taken is Jesus’ reiteration of the Mosaic commandment, Thou shalt not kill . This commandment appears in the Sermon on the Mount as the first of a series of Mosaic ordinances which, so far from being narrowed down as too exacting, are either reinforced or else replaced by stricter limitations in the same direction. 1 It is included in the list of commandments which Jesus enjoined upon the ruler who asked him what he would have to do in order to inherit eternal life. 2 ‘Acts of homicide’ ( ) are mentioned by him among the evil things that issue from the heart of man. 3 It is commonly argued that this commandment of Jesus refers only to acts of private murder, and does not apply to the taking of life in war or in the administration of public justice. It is true that the Hebrew word used in the Mosaic commandment has almost exclusively the meaning of murder proper, and is not used of manslaughter in war, and that the Mosaic Law in general certainly did not prohibit either this latter act or capital punishment. On the other hand, it has to be noted (1) that the Hebrew word for ‘murder’ is used two or three times of a judicial execution, 4 (2) that the Greek word which appears in the Gospel passages quoted has the more general sense of ‘killing,’ and is used of slaughter in war both in classical Greek 5 and in the Septuagint, 6 and (3) that, while there is undoubtedly an ethical distinction between murder or assassination on the one hand and slaughter in war on the other, there is also an ethical similarity between them, and the extension of the Mosaic prohibition to cases to which it was not commonly thought to apply, but with which it was not wholly unconnected, was just such a treatment as we know Jesus imposed upon other enactments of the Jewish Law. 1

II. Still more explicit is the well-known non-resistance teaching in the Sermon on the Mount. I quote from the version of that Sermon in Mt v : (38) “Ye have heard that it was said : ‘Eye for eye’ and ‘tooth for tooth.’ (39) But I tell you not to withstand him who is evil : but whoever strikes thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also : (40) and if anyone wishes to go to law with thee and take away thy tunic, let him have thy cloak also : (41) and whoever ‘impresses’ thee (to go) one mile, go two with him. (42) Give to him that asks of thee, and from him who wishes to borrow of thee, turn not away. (43) Ye have heard that it was said : ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy.’ (44) But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, (45) in order that ye may become sons of your Father who is in heaven, for He raises His sun on evil and good (alike) and rains upon righteous and unrighteous. (46) For if ye love (only) those who love you, what reward have ye? do not even the taxgatherers do the same? (47) and if ye greet your brothers only, what extra (thing) do ye do? do not even the gentiles do the same? (48) Ye then shall be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” 1 Volumes of controversy have been written as to the real import and implications of these critical words, and great care is necessary in order to discover exactly how much they mean. The obvious difficulties in the way of obeying them have led to more than one desperate exegetical attempt to escape from them. There is, for instance, the familiar plea (already alluded to) that Jesus meant his followers to adopt the spirit of his teaching, without being bound by the letter 2 —a plea which, as has been pointed out by no less an authority than Bishop Gore, commonly results in ignoring both letter and spirit alike. 1 Granting that the spirit is the more important side of the matter, we may well ask, If in our Lord’s view the right spirit issues in a ‘letter’ of this kind, how can a ‘letter’ of a diametrically opposite kind be consonant with the same spirit? Another hasty subterfuge is to say that these precepts are counsels of perfection valid only in a perfect society and not seriously meant to be practised under existing conditions. 2 The utter impossibility of this explanation becomes obvious as soon as we recollect that in a perfect state of society there would be no wrongs to submit to and no enemies to love.

A less shallow misinterpretation argues that Jesus meant this teaching to govern only the personal feelings and acts of the disciple in his purely private capacity, and left untouched his duty—as a member of society and for the sake of social welfare—to participate in the authoritative and official restraint and punishment of wrongdoers. 3 Whether or no this interpretation be sound ethical teaching for the present day, the idea that it represents the meaning of Jesus cannot be allowed to pass unchallenged. For in this very passage, Jesus exhibits society’s authorized court of justice, not as duly punishing the offender whom the injured disciple has lovingly pardoned and then handed over to its jurisdiction, but as itself committing the wrong that has to be borne : “if anyone wishes to go to law with thee, and take away thy tunic,” and so on. But further than that, the Lex Talionis—that ancient Mosaic law requiring, in a case of strife between two men resulting in injury to one of them, “life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe” 1 —was no mere authorization of private revenge, permitting within certain limits the indulgence of personal resentment, but a public measure designed in the interests of society as a restraint upon wrongdoing, and doubtless meant to be carried out by (or under the supervision of) the public officers of the community. Yet this law Jesus quotes for the sole purpose of forbidding his disciples to apply it. We are therefore driven to the conclusion that he regarded the duty of neighbourly love as excluding the infliction of public penalties on behalf of society, as well as the indulgence of personal resentment. 2

III. In entire harmony with this conclusion is Jesus’ refusal to advance his ideals by political or coercive means . In the one corner of the Roman world where the passion for an independent national state still survived, he had no use for that passion. As the incident of the tribute-money shows, he felt but coldly towards the fierce yearning of his fellow-countrymen for national independence and greatness, and he rejected the idea of the Messiah which was framed in conformity with these aspirations. At his Temptation, if we may so paraphrase the story, he refused to take possession of the kingdoms of the world, feeling that to do so would be equivalent to bowing the knee to Satan. It is difficult to imagine any other ground for this feeling than the conviction that there was something immoral, something contrary to the Will of God, in the use of the only means by which world-rule could then be obtained, namely, by waging a successful war. The idea that the wrong he was tempted to commit was the indulgence of pride or an eagerness for early success does not meet the point : for was he not in any case invested by God with supreme authority over men, and was it not his life’s work to bring in the Kingdom as speedily as possible? Assuming that the use of military force did not appear to him to be in itself illegitimate, why should he not have used it? Had he not the most righteous of causes? Would not the enterprise have proved in his hands a complete success? Would he not have ruled the world much better than Tiberius was doing? Why then should the acquisition of political ascendancy be ruled out as involving homage to Satan? But on the assumption that he regarded the use of violence and injury as a method that was in itself contrary to the Will of God, which contained among its prime enactments the laws of love and gentleness, his attitude to the suggestion of world-empire becomes easily intelligible. 1 Other incidents bear out this conclusion. He refuses to be taken and made a king by the Galilaeans 2 : he does not stir a finger to compel Antipas to release the Baptist or to punish him for the Baptist’s death or to prevent or avenge any other of the many misdeeds of “that she-fox.” 3 He was not anxious to exact from Pilatus a penalty for the death of those Galilaeans whose blood the governor had mingled with their sacrifices. 4 He made no attempt to constrain men to do good or desist from evil by the application of physical force or the infliction of physical injuries. He did not go beyond a very occasional use of his personal ascendancy in order to put a stop to proceedings that appeared to him unseemly. 5 He pronounces a blessing on peace-makers as the children of God and on the gentle as the inheritors of the earth. 6 He laments the ignorance of Jerusalem as to ‘the (things that make) for peace.’ 7 He demands the forgiveness of all injuries as the condition of receiving the divine pardon for oneself. 8 His own conduct on the last day of his life is the best comment on all this teaching. He does not try to escape, he offers no resistance to the cruelties and indignities inflicted upon him, and forbids his followers to strike a blow on his behalf. 1 He addresses mild remonstrances to the traitor and to his captors, 2 and at the moment of crucifixion prays to God to pardon his enemies : “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” 3

IV. The words in which Jesus expressed his disapproval of gentile ‘authority’ point in the same direction. “Ye know that those who are reckoned to rule over the gentiles lord it over them, and their great men overbear them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life (as) a ransom for many.” 4 The service rendered by the Master was thus to be the pattern of that rendered by the disciples. That this service did not mean the abnegation of all authority as such is clear from the fact that Jesus himself exercised authority over his disciples and others, 5 and furthermore expected the former to exercise it as leaders of his Church. 6 What sort of authority then was Jesus condemning in this passage? What difference was there between the authority of the gentile ruler and that of himself and his apostles? Surely this, that the latter rested on spiritual ascendancy and was exercised only over those who willingly submitted to it, whereas the former was exercised over all men indiscriminately whether they liked it or not, and for this reason involved the use of the sanctions of physical force and penalties. There can be no doubt that it was this fact that caused Jesus to tell his disciples : “It is not so among you.”

V. Further evidence to the same effect is furnished by three incidental utterances of Jesus. . (a) The first of these occurs in the episode of the adulteress who was brought to Him for judgment—an admittedly historical incident. 1 The Pharisees who brought her were quite right in saying that the Law of Moses required the infliction of the death-penalty as a punishment for her offence. 2 With all his reverence for the Mosaic Law and his belief in its divine origin, 3 Jesus here refuses to have any hand in giving effect to it, and sets it on one side in favour of an altogether different method of dealing with the guilty party. “Neither do I condemn thee,” he says to her, “go, and sin no more.” 4 The incident reveals the determination of Jesus to take no part in the use of physical violence in the judicial punishment of wrongdoers. (b) The second utterance expresses a corresponding disapproval of participation in warfare on the part of his disciples. It occurs in his apocalyptic discourse, in which he depicts the devastation of Judaea and the defilement of the Temple at the hands of a foreign foe, and bids his followers in the midst of these distresses ‘flee to the mountains.’ 1 It is true that too much ought not to be built on this saying; for it occurs in a highly problematical context, and many scholars refuse to regard it as an actual utterance of Jesus at all, 2 and the whole passage, even if authentic, is not very easily explained. Still, if it be a fact that Jesus anticipated a gentile attack on Judaea and Jerusalem, and bade his followers flee instead of resisting it, that fact is not without significance for the question before us. (c) The third utterance forbids the use of the sword in a case which, in many respects, appeals most strongly to the modern mind, namely, the defence of others. When Jesus was being arrested in the garden of Gethsemane, Peter drew a sword on his Master’s behalf and attacked one of the High Priest’s servants. Jesus, however, checked him : “Put back thy sword into its place : for all who take the sword shall perish by the sword.” 3 It is only by an unreal isolation of the events of Jesus’ passion from the operation of all the usual moral and spiritual laws which govern humanity, that one can deny some sort of general application to the words here used. The circumstances of the case were of course in a measure special, but so is every incident in actual life : and, inasmuch as the grim truth with which Jesus supported his injunction was perfectly general, one might reasonably argue that the injunction itself was more than an order meant to meet a particular case, and had in it something of the universality of a general principle of conduct. 1

To sum up , whatever may be thought of the weakness or the strength of any one of the various arguments that have just been adduced, it can hardly be questioned that, in conjunction with one another, they constitute a strong body of evidence for the belief that Jesus both abjured for himself and forbade to his disciples all use of physical violence as a means of checking or deterring wrongdoers, not excluding even that use of violence which is characteristic of the public acts of society at large as distinct from the individual. On this showing, participation in warfare is ruled out as inconsistent with Christian principles of conduct. 2

Statements of Jesus and other Considerations apparently legitimizing Warfare for Christians .—There are, however, a number of passages and incidents in the Gospels, which are thought by many to show that Jesus’ disuse of violence and disapproval of war were not absolute, or at any rate are not binding on his followers to-day; and it remains to be seen whether any of them constitutes a valid objection to the conclusion we have just reached.

I. To begin with, in the very passage in which the non-resistance teaching is given, occurs the precept : “Whoever ‘impresses’ thee (to go) one mile, go two with him.” 1 It is urged that the word translated ‘impresses’ is a technical term for the requirement of service by the State , and that Jesus’ words therefore enjoin compliance even with a compulsory demand for military service. But it is clear that military service, as distinct from general state-labour, is not here in question : for (1) the technical term here used referred originally to the postal system of the Persian Empire, the not being a soldier or recruiting officer, but the king’s mounted courier; (2) instances of its later usage always seem to refer to forced labour or service in general, not to service as a soldier 2 ; and (3) the Jews were in any case exempt from service in the Roman legions, so that if, as seems probable, the Roman ‘angaria’ is here referred to, military service proper cannot be what is contemplated.

II. Secondly, it is pointed out that, in the little intercourse Jesus had with soldiers, we find no mention made of any disapproval on his part of the military calling . His record in this respect is somewhat similar to that of the Baptist, 3 whose example, however, must not be taken as indicating or determining the attitude of his greater successor. When Jesus was asked by a gentile centurion, in the service of Herodes at Capernaum, to cure his servant, he not only did so, without (as far as the record goes) uttering any disapproval of the man’s profession, but even expressed appreciation of his faith in believing (on the analogy of his own military authority) that Jesus could cure the illness at a distance by a simple word of command. 1 No conclusion, however, in conflict with the position already reached can be founded on this incident. The attempt to draw such a conclusion is at best an argument from silence. Considering the number of things Jesus must have said of which no record has been left, we cannot be at all sure that he said nothing on this occasion about the illegitimacy of military service for his own followers. And even supposing he did not, is it reasonable to demand that his views on this point should be publicly stated every time he comes across a soldier? Allowance has also to be made for the fact that the centurion was a gentile stranger, who, according to Luke’s fuller narrative, was not even present in person, and in any case was not a candidate for discipleship. The utmost we can say is that at this particular moment the mind of Jesus was not focused on the ethical question now before us : but even that much is precarious, and moreover, if true, furnishes nothing inconsistent with our previous conclusion.

III. The expulsion of the traders from the Temple-courts 1 is often appealed to as the one occasion on which Jesus had recourse to violent physical coercion, thereby proving that his law of gentleness and nonresistance was subject to exceptions under certain circumstances. Exactly what there was in the situation that Jesus regarded as justifying such an exception has not been shown. If however the narratives given by the four evangelists be attentively read in the original, it will be seen (1) that the whip of cords is mentioned in the Fourth Gospel only, which is regarded by most critical scholars as historically less trustworthy than the other three, and as having in this instance disregarded historical exactitude by putting the narrative at the beginning instead of at the close of Jesus’ ministry, 2 (2) that even the words of the Fourth Gospel do not necessarily mean that the whip was used on anyone besides the cattle, 3 (3) that the action of Jesus, so far as the men were concerned, is described in all four accounts by the same word, . This word means literally ‘to cast out,’ but is also used of Jesus being sent into the wilderness, 4 of him expelling the mourners from Jairus’ house, 5 of God sending out workers into his vineyard, 6 of a man taking out a splinter from the eye 1 of a householder bringing forth things out of his store, 2 of a man taking money out of his purse, 3 and of a shepherd sending sheep out of the fold. 4 Here therefore it need mean no more than an authoritative dismissal. It is obviously impossible for one man to drive out a crowd by physical force or even by the threat of it. What he can do is to overawe them by his presence and the power of his personality, and expel them by an authoritative command. That apparently is what Jesus did. 5 In any case, no act even remotely comparable to wounding or killing is sanctioned by his example on this occasion.

IV. In his prophecies of the Last Things, Jesus spoke of the wars of the future . He said that nation would rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom, that wars and rumours of wars would be heard of, that Judaea would be devastated, Jerusalem besieged and taken by the gentiles, and the Temple defiled and destroyed. 6 It is difficult to separate these announcements from those other general prophecies in which calamity is foretold as the approaching judgment of God upon the sins of communities and individuals. 7 In this connection too we have to consider the parabolic descriptions of the king who, angered at the murder of his slaves, sent his armies, destroyed the murderers, and burnt their city, 1 of the other king who executed the citizens that did not wish him to rule over them, 2 and of other kings and masters who punished their offending servants with more or less violence. 3 These passages seem to prove beyond question that, in Jesus’ view, God under certain conditions punishes sinners with terrible severity, and that one notable example of such punishment would be the complete overthrow of the Jewish State as the result of a disastrous war with Rome. That being so, may we not infer from God’s use of the Roman armies as the rod of His anger, that Jesus would have granted that under certain circumstances his own followers might make themselves the agents of a similar visitation by waging war? As against such an inference, we have to bear in mind (I) that wherever the infliction appears as the direct act of God, the language is always highly parabolic, and the exact interpretation proportionately difficult; nothing more than the single point of divine punishment is indicated by these parables; even the more fundamental idea of divine love—the context in which the divine severity must admittedly be read—is omitted. Can we infer from the parable of the hardworked slave, 4 illustrating the extent of the service we owe to God, that Jesus approves of a master so treating his slaves, or from the parabolic description of himself plundering Satan, 5 that he sanctions burglary? (2) that the difference between divine and human prerogatives in the matter of punishing sin is deep and vital, God’s power, love, knowledge, and authority making just for Him what would be unjust if done by man 1 ; (3) that, in the case of the Jewish war, the instruments of God’s wrath were unenlightened gentiles who in a rebellion could see nothing better to do than to crush the rebels; duty might well be very different for Christian disciples; (4) that the conception of foreign foes being used to chastise God’s people was one familiar to readers of the Hebrew Scriptures, and did not by any means imply the innocence of the foes in question 2 (5) that, while Jesus holds up the divine perfection in general as a model for our imitation, yet, when he descends to particulars, it is only the gentle side of God’s method of dealing with sinners—to the express exclusion of the punitive side—which he bids us copy, 3 and which he himself copied in that supreme act in which he revealed God’s heart and moved sinners to repentance, namely, his submission to the cross.

V. Difficulty has sometimes been raised over Jesus’ illustrative allusions to war . There cannot be any question as to the purely metaphorical character of his picture of the two kings at war with unequal forces—given to enforce the duty of counting in advance the cost of discipleship, 1 or of his allusion to violent men snatching the Kingdom or forcing their way into it 2 —a demand for eagerness and enterprise in spiritual things. 3 The parabolic description of the king sending his armies to avenge his murdered slaves 4 has already been dealt with. More easily misunderstood is the passage in which Jesus states that he was sent not to bring peace to the earth, but a sword. 5 But there is no real difficulty here: Jesus is simply saying that, as a result of his coming, fierce antipathies will arise against his adherents on the part of their fellow-men. The context clearly reveals the meaning; the word ‘sword’ is used metaphorically for dissension, and a result is announced as if it were a purpose, quite in accordance with the deterministic leanings of the Semitic mind. No sanction for the Christian engaging in war can be extracted from the passage, any more than a sanction of theft can be drawn from Jesus’ comparison of his coming to that of a thief in the night. 1 More serious difficulty is occasioned by an incident narrated by Luke in his story of the Last Supper. After reminding his disciples that they had lacked nothing on their mission-journeys, though unprovided with purse, wallet, and shoes, Jesus counsels them now to take these necessaries with them, and adds : “And let him who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one. For I tell you that this which has been written must be accomplished in me, ‘And he was reckoned with the lawless.’ For that which concerneth me has (its own) accomplishment” . They tell him there are two swords there, and he replies abruptly : “It is enough.” 2 No entirely satisfactory explanation of this difficult passage has yet been given. 3 The obvious fact that two swords were not enough to defend twelve men seems to rule out a literal interpretation; and the closing words of Jesus strongly suggest that the disciples, in referring to actual swords, had misunderstood him. The explanation suggested by Harnack, 4 that the sword was meant metaphorically to represent the stedfast defence of the Gospel under the persecution now approaching, is perhaps the best within our reach at present : at all events, until one obviously better has been produced, we cannot infer from the passage that Jesus was really encouraging his disciples to go about armed. Peter took a sword with him that very night, but on the first occasion on which he used it, he was told by Jesus not to do so. 1

VI. It is clear that Jesus accorded a certain recognition to the civil governments of his day . It is doubtful whether the Temptation-story compels us to believe that he regarded the Roman Empire as objectively Satanic : an explanation of the story has been offered which involves no such supposition. 2 He called the Roman coins ‘the things that belong to Caesar,’ 3 and bade the Jews pay them to their owner : in the Fourth Gospel he is made to tell Pilatus that the latter’s magisterial power over him had been given to him ‘from above’ 4 : he revered King David and the Queen of Sheba 5 : he spoke of the old Mosaic Law, with its pains and penalties, as ‘the word of God’ 6 : he reckoned ‘judgment’ (? = the administration of justice) among the weightier matters of the Law, and rebuked the scribes and Pharisees for neglecting it 7 : courtiers, judges, rulers, and councillors were numbered among his friends and admirers 8 : he was scrupulously obedient to the Jewish Law, 9 and paid the Templetax, even though he though it unfair 10 he enjoined compliance with the State’s demand for forced labour 11 : he would undertake no sort of active opposition to the governments of his day : he submitted meekly to the official measures that led to his own death; and his refusal to be made a king by the Galilaeans 1 marks a certain submissiveness even towards Herodes, for whom he seems to have had much less respect than for other rulers. Does not all this—it may be asked— does not, in particular, the command to ‘Give back to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,’ carry with it the duty of rendering military service if and when the government demands it? Important as the words about Caesar doubtless are, they must not be made to bear more than their fair weight of meaning. Caesar, it was well understood, had formally exempted the Jews from service in his legions; and the question was, not whether they should fight for him, but whether they should bow to his rule and pay his taxes. To part with one’s property at the demand of another person does not make one responsible for all that person’s doings, nor does it imply a readiness to obey any and every command that that person may feel he has a right to issue. Jesus sanctioned disobedience to Caesar in forbidding his followers to deny him before kings and governors 2 ; and refusal to disobey his ethical teaching at Caesar’s bidding would be but a natural extension of this precept. If it be urged that the phrase and the other evidence quoted point to some sort of real justification on Jesus’ part of the imperial and other governments, it may be replied that that justification was relative only—relative, that is, to the imperfect and unenlightened state of the agents concerned. The fact that they were not as yet ready to be his own followers was an essential condition of his approval of their public acts. That approval, therefore, did not affect the ethical standard he demanded from his own disciples. 1

VII. It is commonly assumed that obedience to the non-resistance teaching of Jesus is so obviously inconsistent with the peace and well-being of society that he could not have meant this teaching to be taken literally. Thus Professor Bethune-Baker says : “If the right of using force to maintain order be denied, utter social disorganization must result. Who can imagine that this was the aim of one who. . . ? It was not Christ’s aim; and He never gave any such command.” 2 “The self-forgetting altruism, the ideal humanity and charity,” says Schell, “would, by a literal fulfilment of certain precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, offer welcome encouragement to evil propensities, and by its indulgence would even provoke the bad to riot in undisciplined excess.” 3 “A country,” says Loisy, “where all the good people conformed to these maxims would, instead of resembling the kingdom of heaven, be the paradise of thieves and criminals.” 4 This plausible argument is however erroneous, for it ignores in one way or another three important facts : (I) The ability to practise this teaching of Jesus is strictly relative to the status of discipleship : the Teacher issues it for immediate acceptance, not by the whole of unredeemed humanity, still less by any arbitrarily chose local group of people (one nation, for instance, as distinct from others), but by the small though growing company of his own personal disciples. It is essentially a law for the Christian community. (2) The negative attitude which this teaching involves is more than compensated for by its positive counterpart. Jesus and his disciples use no force, but they are on that account by no means ciphers in the struggle against sin. The changes wrought by Jesus in the Gerasene maniac, the prostitute, the adulteress, the extortionate taxgatherer, and the thief on the cross, show what a far more efficient reformer of morals he was than the police. As we shall see later, his first followers worked on the same lines, and met with the same splendid success. Nor is it very difficult to see how enfeebled would have been this policy of Jesus and the early Christians, if it had been combined by them with a use of coercion or of the punitive power of the state. True, as long as man’s will is free, moral suasion is not bound to succeed in any particular case; but the same is true also of the use of force. The point is that the principles of Jesus, as a general policy, so far from leaving human sin unchecked, check it more effectively than any coercion or penalization can do. (3) The growth of the Christian community is a gradual growth, proceeding by the accession of one life at a time. Two gradual processes have thus to go on pari passu, firstly, a gradual diminution in the number of those who use violence to restrain wrong, and secondly, a gradual diminution in the number of those who seem to them to need forcible restraint. 1 The concomitance of these processes obviously means no such “utter social disorganisation” as is often imagined, but a gradual and steady transition to greater social security.

VIII. Lastly, we have to consider the view which frankly admits that the teaching of Jesus is inconsistent with the use of arms, but regards that teaching as an ‘ interim ethic ,’ framed wholly with an eye to the approaching break-up of the existing world-order (when by God’s intervention the Kingdom would be set up), and therefore as having no claim to the strict obedience of modern Christians who perforce have to take an entirely different view of the world. Dr. Wilhelm Herrmann of Marburg presents this view in a paper which appears in an English form in Essays on the Social Gospel (London, 1907). 2 On the ground of the supposed historical discovery that Jesus looked upon human society as near its end, he cheerfully emancipates the modern Christian from the duty of “absolutely obeying in our rule of life to-day, the traditional words of Jesus.” 3 “Endeavours to imitate Jesus in points inseparable from His especial mission in the world, and His position—which is not ours,—towards that world—efforts like these lacking the sincerity of really necessary tasks, have so long injured the cause of Jesus, that our joy will be unalloyed when scientific study at last reveals to every one the impossibility of all such attempts.” 4 “As a result of that frame of mind whereby we are united with Him, we desire the existence of a national State, with a character and with duties with which Jesus was not yet acquainted; we will not let ourselves be led astray, even if in this form of human nature various features are as sharply opposed to the mode of life and standpoint of Jesus as is the dauntless use of arms.” 1 This view, though quoted from a German author, represents the standpoint of a good deal of critical opinion in this country, and is in fact the last stronghold of those who realize the impossibility of finding any sanction for war in the Gospels, but who yet cling to the belief that war is in these days a Christian duty. In regard to it we may say (I) that ‘scientific study’ has not yet proved that the mind of Jesus was always dominated by an expectation of a world-cataclysm destined to occur within that generation. The Gospels contain non-apocalyptic as well as apocalyptic sayings, and there are no grounds for ruling out the former as ungenuine. Early Christian thought tended to over-emphasize the apocalyptic element, a fact which argues strongly for the originality of the other phase of Jesus’ teaching. His ethics cannot be explained by reference to his expectation of the approaching end. On the contrary, “where He gives the ground of His command, as in the case of loving enemies, forgiveness, and seeking the lost, it is the nature of God that He dwells upon, and not anything expected in the near or distant future.” 2 (2) Herrmann maintains that “the command to love our enemies” and the words of Jesus “dealing with the love of peace” are not to be included among the sayings which have to be explained by the idea of the approaching end. 1 But he does not point to anything in these sayings which entitles him to treat them as exceptional; nor does he explain how obedience to them—seeing that after all they are to be obeyed —can be harmonized with “the dauntless use of arms.” (3) The appeal to the interim-ethic theory, however sincere, has a pragmatic motive behind it, as Herrmann’s words about the desire for a national state clearly reveal. “Thus Jesus brings us into conflict,” he confesses, “with social duties to which we all wish to cling.” 2 He takes no account at all of the three facts which have just been referred to 3 as governing compliance with Jesus’ teaching. These facts, when properly attended to and allowed for, show how utterly baseless is the prevalent belief that to adopt the view of Jesus’ teaching advocated in these pages is to ensure the immediate collapse of one state or another and to hand society over to the control of any rascals who are strong enough to tyrannize over their fellows. When that pragmatic motive is shown to be based on a misapprehension, no ground will remain for withholding, from our Lord’s prohibition of the infliction of injury upon our neighbour, that obedience which all Christian people willingly admit must be accorded to his more general precepts of truthfulness, service, and love.

The interim-ethic theory is, as we have said, the last fortress of militarism on Christian soil. Driven from that stronghold, it has no choice but to take refuge over the border. Its apologists eventually find that they have no option but to argue on grounds inconsistent with the supremacy of Christianity as a universal religion or as a final revelation of God. Most of the arguments we hear about ‘the lesser of two evils,’ ‘living in an imperfect world,’ ‘untimely virtues,’ and so on, reduce themselves in the last analysis to a renunciation of Christianity, at least for the time being, as the real guide of life. In the fierce agony of the times, the inconsistency is unperceived by those who commit it; or, if it is perceived, the sacrifice of intellectual clearness becomes part of the great sacrifice for which the crisis calls. But he, to whose words men have so often fled when the organized Christianity of the hour appeared to have broken down or at any rate could not solve the riddle or point the way, will, when the smoke has cleared from their eyes, be found to possess after all the secret for which the human race is longing; and the only safe ‘Weltpolitik’ will be seen to lie in simple and childlike obedience to him who said : “Happy are the gentle, for they will inherit the earth.”

In chalking out the main divisions of our subject from this point onwards, it is not proposed to give the first place to any set of chronological landmarks between the death of Jesus about 29 a.d. and the triumph of Constantinus about 313 a.d. This does not mean that the Christian attitude to war underwent no change in the course of that long period; but such changes as there were it will be convenient to study within subdivisions founded on the subject-matter rather than on the lapse of time. The material—excluding the final summary and comments—falls naturally into two main divisions, firstly, the various forms in which the Christian disapproval of war expressed itself, such as the condemnation of it in the abstract, the emphasis laid on the essential peacefulness of Christianity, the place of gentleness and non-resistance in Christian ethics, the Christians’ experience of the evils of military life and character, and their refusal to act as soldiers themselves; and secondly, the various forms of what we may call the Christian acceptance or quasi-acceptance of war, ranging from such ideal realms as Scriptural history, spiritual warfare, and so on, right up to the actual service of Christians in the Roman armies. 1 When we have examined these two complementary phases of the subject, we shall be in a position to sum up the situation—particularly the settlement involved in the Church’s alliance with Constantinus, and to offer a few general observations on the question as a whole.

PART II: FORMS OF THE EARLY CHRISTIAN DISAPPROVAL OF WAR

The Condemnation of War in the abstract . 1 —The conditions under which the books of the New Testament were written were not such as to give occasion for Christian utterances on the wrongfulness of war. The few New Testament passages expressing disapprobation of ‘wars’ and ‘battles’ 2 probably refer in every case, not to military conflicts, but to strife and dissension in the more general sense. Reflection is, however, cast on the incessant wars of men in ‘The Vision of Isaiah’ : the prophet ascends to the firmament, “and there I saw Sammael and his hosts, and there was great fighting therein, and the angles of Satan were envying one another. And as above, so on the earth also; for the likeness of that which is in the firmament is here on the earth. And I said unto the angel who was with me : ‘What is this war, and what is this envying?’ And he said unto me : ‘So has it been since this world was made until now, and this war will continue till He whom thou shalt see will come and destroy him’.” 1 Aristeides attributed the prevalence of war—chiefly among the Greeks—to the erroneous views of men as to the nature of their gods, whom they pictured as waging war : “for if their gods did such things, why should they themselves not do them? thus from this pursuit of error it has fallen to men’s lot to have continual wars and massacres and bitter captivity.” 2 He specially mentions Ares and Herakles as discredited by their warlike character. 3 Justinus said that it was the evil angels and their offspring the demons who “sowed murders, wars, adulteries, excesses, and every wickedness, among men.” 4 Tatianus equated war and murder, and said that the demons excited war by means of oracles. “Thou wishest to make war,” he says to the gentile, “and thou takest Apollon (as thy) counselor in murder” ( ). He refers to Apollon as the one “who raises up seditions and battles” and “makes announcements about victory in war.” 5 Athenagoras instances the usages of unjust war—the slaughter of myriads of men, the razing of cities, the burning of houses with their inhabitants, the devastation of land, and the destruction of entire populations—as samples of the worst sins, such as could not be adequately punished by any amount of suffering in this life. 6 He also says that Christians cannot endure to see a man put to death, even justly. 7 In the apocryphal Acts of John, the apostle tells the Ephesians that military conquerors, along with kings, princes, tyrants, and boasters, will depart hence naked, and suffer eternal pains. 1

Clemens of Alexandria casts aspersions on the multifarious preparation necessary for war, as contrasted with peace and love, and on the type of music patronized by “those who are practised in war and who have despised the divine fear.” 2 He likens the Christian poor to “an army without weapons, without war, without bloodshed, without anger, without defilement.” 3 In the Pseudo-Justinian ‘Address to the Greeks,’ the readers are exhorted: “Be instructed by the Divine Word, and learn (about) the incorruptible King, and know His heroes, who never inflict slaughter on (the) peoples.” 4 Tertullianus says that when Peter cut off Malchus’ ear, Jesus “cursed the works of the sword for ever after.” 5 He criticizes the gentiles’ greed of gold in hiring themselves out for military service. 6 He objects to the literal interpretation of Psalm xlv. 3 f as applied to Christ: ‘Gird the sword upon (thy) thigh. . . extend and prosper and reign, on account of truth and gentleness and justice’: “Who shall produce these (results) with the sword,” he asks, “and not rather those that are contrary to gentleness and justice, (namely), deceit and harshness and injustice, (which are) of course the proper business of battles?” 7 “Is the laurel of triumph,” he asks elsewhere, “made up of leaves or of corpses? is it decorated with ribbons, or tombs? is it besmeared with ointments, or with the tears of wives and mothers, perhaps those of some men even (who are) Christians—for Christ (is) among the barbarians as well?” 1 Hippolutos, in his commentary on Daniel, explains the wild beasts that lived under the tree in Nebuchadnezzar’s dream as “the warriors and armies, which adhered to the king, carrying out what was commanded (them), being ready like wild beasts for making war and destroying, and for rending men like wild beasts.” 2 One of the features of the Roman Empire, when viewed by this writer as the Fourth Beast and as a Satanic imitation of the Christian Church, was its preparation for war, and its collection of the noblest men from all countries as its warriors. 3 The Bardesanic ‘Book of the Laws of the Countries’ mentions the law of the Seres (a mysterious Eastern people) forbidding to kill, and the frequency with which kings seize countries which do not belong to them, and abolish their laws. 4 Origenes spoke depreciatively of the military and juridical professions as being prized by ignorant and blind seekers for wealth and glory. 5

Cyprianus declaims about the “wars scattered everywhere with the bloody horror of camps. The world, “he says, “is wet with mutual blood(shed): and homicide is a crime when individuals commit it, (but) it is called a virtue, when it is carried on publicly. Not the reason of innocence, but the magnitude of savagery, demands impunity for crimes.” He censures also the vanity and deceitful pomp of the military office. 1 “What use is it,” asks Commodianus, “to know about the vices of kings and their wars?” 2 Gregorios censures certain Christians for seizing the property of others in compensation for what they had lost in a raid made by the barbarians: just as the latter, he says, had “inflicted the (havoc) of war” on these Christians, they were acting similarly towards others. 3 The Didaskalia forbids the receipt of monetary help for the church from “any of the magistrates of the Roman Empire, who are polluted by war.” 4 The Pseudo-Justinian Cohortatio censures the god Zeus as being in Homer’s words “disposer of the wars of men.” 5 In the Clementine Homilies, Peter asks, if God loves war, who wishes for peace?, 6 speaks obscurely of a female prophecy, who, “when she conceives and brings forth temporary kings, stirs up wars, which shed much blood,” 7 and points his hearers to the continual wars going on even in their day owing to the existence of many kings 8 ; Zacchaeus depicts the heretic Simon as ‘standing like a general, guarded by the crowd’ 9 ; and Clemens tells the Greeks that the lusts of the flesh must be sins, because they beget wars, murders, and confusion. 10 Similarly in the Recognitions, Peter pleads that a decision by truth and worth is better than a decision by force of arms, 11 and says: “Wars and contests are born from sins; but where sin is not committed, there is peace to the soul,” 1 “hence” (i.e. from idolworship) “the madness of wars blazed out” 2 ; and Niceta remarks that implacable wars arise from lust. 3 Methodios says that the nations, intoxicated by the devil, sharpen their passions for murderous battles, 4 and speaks of the bloody wars of the past. 5

The treatise of Arnobius abounds in allusions to the moral iniquity of war. Contrasting Christ with the rulers of the Roman Empire, he asks: “Did he, claiming royal power for himself, occupy the whole world with fierce legions, and, (of) nations at peace from the beginning, destroy and remove some, and compel others to put their necks beneath his yoke and obey him?” 6 “What use is it to the world that there should be. . . generals of the greatest experience in warfare, skilled in the capture of cities, (and) soldiers immoveable and invincible in cavalry battles or in a fight on foot?” 7 Arnobius roundly denies that it was any part of the divine purpose that men’s souls, “forgetting that they are from one source, one parent and head, should tear up and break down the rights of kinship, overturn their cities, devastate lands in enmity, make slaves of freemen, violate maidens and other men’s wives, hate one another, envy the joys and good fortune of others, in a word all curse, carp at, and rend one another with the biting of savage teeth.” 8 He rejects with indignation the pagan idea that divine beings could patronize, or take pleasure or interest in, human wars. Speaking of Mars, for instance, he says:” If he is the one who allays the madness of war, why do wars never cease for a day? But if he is the author of them, we shall therefore say that a god, for the indulgence of his own pleasure, brings the whole world into collision, sows causes of dissension and strife among nations separated by distance of lands, brings together from different (quarters) so many thousands of mortals and speedily heaps the fields with corpses, makes blood flow in torrents, destroys the stablest empires, levels cities with the ground, takes away liberty from the freeborn and imposes (on them) the state of slavery, rejoices in civil broils, in the fratricidal death of brothers who die together and in the parricidal horror of mortal conflict between sons and fathers.” 1

Lactantius also, in his ‘Divine Institutes,’ again and again alludes to the prevalence of war as one of the great blots on the history and morals of humanity. I quote three only of the numerous passages. Speaking of the Romans, he says: “They despise indeed the excellence of the athlete, because there is no harm in it; but royal excellence, because it is wont to do harm extensively, they so admire that they think that brave and warlike generals are placed in the assembly of the gods, and that there is no other way to immortality than by leading armies, devastating foreign (countries), destroying cities, overthrowing towns, (and) either slaughtering or enslaving free peoples. Truly, the more men they have afflicted, despoiled, (and) slain, the more noble and renowned do they think themselves; and, captured by the appearance of empty glory, they give the name of excellence to their crimes. Now I would rather that they should make gods for themselves from the slaughter of wild beasts than that they should approve of an immortality so bloody. If any one has slain a single man, he is regarded as contaminated and wicked, nor do they think it right that he should be admitted to this earthly dwelling of the gods. But he who has slaughtered endless thousands of men, deluged the fields with blood, (and) infected rivers (with it), is admitted not only to a temple, but even to heaven.” 1 “They believe that the gods love whatever they themselves desire, whatever it is for the sake of which acts of theft and homicide and brigandage rage every day, for the sake of which wars throughout the whole world overturn peoples and cities.” 2 In criticizing the definition of virtue as that which puts first the advantages of one’s country, he points out that this means the extension of the national boundaries by means of aggressive wars on neighbouring states, and so on: “all which things are certainly not virtues, but the overthrowing of virtues. For, in the first place, the connection of human society is taken away; innocence is taken away; abstention from (what is) another’s is taken away; in fact, justice itself is taken away; for justice cannot bear the cutting asunder of the human race, and, wherever arms glitter, she must be put to flight and banished. . . . For how can he be just, who injures, hates, despoils, kills? And those who strive to be of advantage to their country do all these things.” 3 Eusebios ascribed the incessant occurrence of furious wars in pre-Christian times, not only to the multiplicity of rulers before the establishment of the Roman Empire, but also to the instigation of the demons who tyrannized over the nations that worshipped them. 1 He refers to Ares as “the demon who is the bane of mortals and the lover of war” 2 and remarks that “the din of strife, and battles, and wars, are the concern of Athena, but not peace or the things of peace.” 3

This collection of passages will suffice to show how strong and deep was the early Christian revulsion from and disapproval of war, both on account of the dissension it represented and of the infliction of bloodshed and suffering which it involved. The quotations show further how closely warfare and murder were connected in Christian thought by their possession of a common element—homicide; and the connection gives a fresh significance for the subject before us to the extreme Christian sensitiveness in regard to the sin of murder—a sensitiveness attested by the frequency with which warnings, prohibitions, and condemnations in regard to this particular sin were uttered and the severity with which the Church dealt with the commission of it by any of her own members. The strong disapprobation felt by Christians for war was due to its close relationship with the deadly sin that sufficed to keep the man guilty of it permanently outside the Christian community. 4

The Essential Peacefulness of Christianity .—The natural counterpart of the Christian disapproval of war was the conception of peace as being of the very stuff and substance of the Christian life. Peace, of course, meant a number of different things to the early Christian. It meant reconciliation between himself and God; it meant the stilling of turbulent passions and evil desires in his own heart; it meant the harmony and concord that normally reigned within the Christian community; it meant (to Paul, for instance, in writing ‘Ephesians’) the reconciliation of Jew and gentile; it meant immunity from annoyance and persecution at the hands of pagans; it meant also freedom from the distractions, toils, and dangers of actual war. Little purpose would be served by attempting an analysis of all occurrences of the word ‘peace’ in early Christian literature according to the particular shade of meaning in each case, with the object of dissolving out the exact amount said about peace as the antithesis and correlative of war. The result would be little more than a general impression of the Christian inclination towards, and approval of, peace. That fact in itself is not without significance: for, while there are many places in which peace is mentioned without any apparent reference to the military calling—for instance, where Peter, shortly before baptizing the centurion Cornelius, gave him the pith of the Christian gospel as “the word which God sent to the sons of Israel, giving the good news of peace through Jesus Christ” 1 —yet the close and repeated identification of Christianity with peace even in a vague sense (e.g., in the opening and closing salutations of letters, and in phrases like ‘the God of Peace’) has an important bearing on the Christian attitude to war, particularly in view of the many direct and explicit allusions we find to peace in the military sense. It will be sufficient for our present purpose to quote only a few of the more explicit passages. Paul, for instance, tells the Romans: “If possible, as far as lies in your power, be at peace with all men” 2 : similarly, the author of Hebrews: “Pursue peace with all (men).” 3 The evangelist ‘Matthew’ quotes the words of Jesus: “Happy are the peace-makers” 4 and Luke tells us that at the birth of Jesus the host of angels sang: “Glory in the highest to God and on earth peace among men whom He favours,” 5 and represents Zacharias as praying God “to guide our feet into (the) way of peace.” 6 In the liturgical prayer at the end of the epistle of Clemens of Rome occurs a petition for world-wide peace among men generally: “Give concord and peace to us and to all who inhabit the earth, as Thou gavest to our fathers.” 7 Then he prays specially for the rulers: “Give them, Lord, health, peace, concord, stability, that they may administer without offence the government given to them by Thee. . . . Do Thou, Lord, direct their counsel. . . in order that they, administering piously with peace and gentleness the authority given them by Thee, may find favour with Thee.” 1 Ignatius exclaims: “Nothing is better than peace, by which all war of those in heaven and those on earth is abolished.” 2 A Christian Elder quoted by Eirenaios said that King Solomon “announced to the nations that peace would come and prefigured the reign of Christ.” 3 Justinus told the Emperors that the Christians were the best allies and helpers they had in promoting peace, 4 on the ground that their belief in future punishment and in the omniscience of God provided a stronger deterrent from wrongdoing than any laws could do.

The Christian Church appropriated to itself that old prophecy, found both in Isaiah and Micah, of the abolition of war in the Messianic age. “And many peoples shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; and He will teach us of His ways, and we will walk in His paths: for out of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And He shall judge among the nations, and convict many peoples; and they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-knives; nation shall not lift sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” 5 This prophecy is quoted, in whole or in part, by a succession of Christian writers, who all urge that it is being fulfilled in the extension of Christianity, the adherents of which are peace-loving people, who do not make war. Thus Justinus quotes it in his Apology, and goes on: “And that this has happened, ye can be persuaded. For from Jerusalem twelve men went out into the world, and these (were) unlearned, unable to speak; but by (the) power of God they told every race of men that they had been sent by Christ to teach all (men) the word of God. And we, who were formerly slayers of one another, not only do not make war upon our enemies, but, for the sake of neither lying nor deceiving those who examine us, gladly die confessing Christ.” 1 He quotes it again in his Dialogue with Truphon the Jew, and insists in opposition to the Jewish interpretation that it is already being fulfilled: “and we,” he goes on, “who had been filled with war and mutual slaughter and every wickedness, have each one—all the world over—changed the instruments of war, the swords into ploughs and the spears into farming instruments, and we cultivate piety, righteousness, love for men, faith, (and) the hope which is from the Father Himself through the Crucified One.” 2 Eirenaios quotes it, and comments upon it as follows: “If therefore another law and word, issuing from Jerusalem, has thus made peace among those nations which received it, and through them convinced many a people of folly, it seems clear that the prophets were speaking of someone else (besides Jesus). But if the law of liberty, that is, the Word of God, being proclaimed to the whole earth by the Apostles who went out from Jerusalem, effected a change to such an extent that (the nations) themselves wrought their swords and lances of war into ploughs and changed them into sickles, which He gave for reaping corn, (that is), into instruments of peace, and if they now know not how to fight, but, (when they are) struck, offer the other cheek also, (then) the prophets did not say this of anyone else, but of him who did it. Now this is our Lord,” etc. 1 Tertullianus quotes it, and asks: “Who else therefore are understood than ourselves, who, taught by the new law, observe those things, the old law—the abolition of which the very action (of changing swords into ploughs, etc.) proves was to come—being obliterated? For the old law vindicated itself by the vengeance of the sword, and plucked out eye for eye, and requited injury with punishment; but the new law pointed to clemency, and changed the former savagery of swords and lances into tranquillity, and refashioned the former infliction of war upon rivals and foes of the law into the peaceful acts of ploughing and cultivating the earth. And so. . . the observance of the new law and of spiritual circumcision has shone forth in acts of peaceful obedience.” 2 He quotes it again clause by clause in his treatise against Markion, inserting comments as he goes along: “‘And they shall beat their swords into ploughs, and their spears into sickles,’ that is, they shall change the dispositions of injurious minds and hostile tongues and every (sort of) wickedness and blasphemy into the pursuits of modesty and peace. ‘And nation shall not take sword against nation,’ namely, (the sword) of dissension. ‘And they shall not learn to make war any more,’ that is, to give effect to hostile feelings: so that here too thou mayest learn that Christ is promised not (as one who is) powerful in war, but (as) a bringer of peace;” and he goes on to insist that it is Christ who must be referred to 1 He adverts to the prophecy again a little later: “And then ‘they beat their swords into ploughs. . . ,’ that is, minds (that were) once wild and savage they change into feelings (that are) upright and productive of good fruit.” 2 Origenes quotes it: “To those who ask us whence we have come or whom we have (for) a leader, we say that we have come in accordance with the counsels of Jesus to cut down our warlike and arrogant swords of argument into ploughshares, and we convert into sickles the spears we formerly used in fighting. For we no longer take ‘sword against a nation,’ nor do we learn ‘any more to make war,’ having become sons of peace for the sake of Jesus, who is our leader, instead of (following) the ancestral (customs) in which we were strangers to the covenants.” 3 It is quoted in the Pseudo-Cyprianic treatise ‘Against the Jews’ and in the ‘Dialogus de Recta Fidei’ as a reference to the state of affairs inaugurated by Christ. 4 Lastly, Eusebios quotes it—after referring to the multiplicity of rulers in pre-Christian times and the consequent frequency of wars and universality of military training—as prophesying the change that was actually introduced at the advent of Christ. True, he conceives the fulfilment to lie—in part at least—in the unification of all governments in that of Augustus and the resultant cessation of conflicts; but he goes on to point out that, while the demons goaded men into furious wars with one another, “at the same time, by our Saviour’s most pious and most peaceful teaching, the destruction of polytheistic error began to be accomplished, and the dissensions of the nations immediately began to find rest from former evils. Which (fact),” he concludes, “I regard as a very great proof of our Saviour’s divine and irresistible power.” 1

Resuming our account of the various laudatory allusions of Christian authors to peace, we find Athenagoras saying to the Emperors: “By your sagacity the whole inhabited world enjoys profound peace.” 2 Clemens of Alexandria says of the Christians: “We are being educated, not in war, but in peace”; “We, the peaceful race” are more temperate than “the warlike races”; among musical instruments, “man is in reality a pacific instrument,” the others exciting military and amorous passions; “but we have made use of one instrument, the peaceful word only, wherewith we honour God.” 3 Tertullianus, defending the Christian meetings, asks: “To whose danger did we ever meet together? What we are when we are separated, that we are when we are gathered together: what we are as individuals, that we are as a body, hurting no one, troubling no one” 4 : he calls the Christian “the son of peace.” 5 The devil, says Hippolutos, “knows that the prayer of the saints produces peace for the world.” 6 The Pseudo-Melitonian Apologist prescribed the knowledge and fear of the one God as the only means by which a kingdom could be peaceably governed. 7 The Bardesanic ‘Book of the Laws of the Countries’ foretold the coming of universal peace as a result of the dissemination of new teaching and by a gift from God. 1 In the Pseudo-Justinian ‘Address to the Greeks,’ the Word of God is invoked as: “O trumpet of peace to the soul that is at war!” 2 Commodianus says to the Christian: “Make thyself a peace-maker to all men.” 3 Cyprianus commends patience as that which “guards the peace.” 4 Arnobius tells the pagans: “It would not be difficult to prove that, after Christ was heard of in the world, those wars, which ye say were brought about on account of (the gods’) hatred for our religion, not only did not increase, but were even greatly diminished by the repression of furious passions. For since we—so large a force of men—have received (it) from his teachings and laws, that evil ought not to be repaid with evil, that it is better to endure a wrong than to inflict (it), to shed one’s own (blood) rather than stain one’s hands and conscience with the blood of another, the ungrateful world has long been receiving a benefit from Christ, through whom the madness of savagery has been softened, and has begun to withhold its hostile hands from the blood of a kindred creature. But if absolutely all who understand that they are men by virtue, not of the form of their bodies, but of the power of their reason, were willing to lend an ear for a little while to his healthful and peaceful decrees, and would not, swollen with pride and arrogance, trust to their own senses rather than to his admonitions, the whole world would long ago have turned the uses of iron to milder works and be living in the softest tranquillity, and would have come together in healthy concord without breaking the sanctions of treaties.” 1 The martyr Lucianus told the judge at Nicomedia that one of the laws given by Christ to Christians was that they should “be keen on peace.” 2

It might of course be urged that these expressions or at least the bulk of them voiced the sentiments of a community that bore no political responsibility and had been disciplined by no political experience. “The opinions of the Christians of the first three centuries,” says Lecky, “were usually formed without any regard to the necessities of civil or political life; but when the Church obtained an ascendancy, it was found necessary speedily to modify them.” 3 It must of course be frankly admitted that the passages we have quoted do not explicitly handle the ultimate problems with which the philosophy of war and penal justice has to deal: but it is quite another question whether the policy of conduct dictated by what many might consider this blind attachment to peace and this blind horror of war did not involve a better solution of those problems than had yet been given to the world. The modifications of which Lecky speaks were due to other causes than the enlargement of the Church’s vision and experience. The grave relaxation of her early moral purity had a good deal to do with it: and, as we shall see later, the early Church was not without at least one competent thinker who was fully equal to giving a good account of the peace-loving views of himself and his brethren in face of the objections raised by the practical pagan critic.

The Christian Treatment of Enemies and Wrongdoers .—A very interesting sidelight is cast on the attitude of the early Christians to war by the serious view they took of those precepts of the Master enjoining love for all, including enemies, and forbidding retaliation upon the wrongdoer, and the close and literal way in which they endeavoured to obey them. This view and this obedience of those first followers of Jesus are the best commentary we can have upon the problematic teaching in question, and the best answer we can give to those who argue that it was not meant to be practised save in a perfect society, or that it refers only to the inner disposition of the heart and not to the outward actions, or that it concerns only the personal and private and not the social and political relationships of life. The Christian emphasis on the duty of love may be thought by some to have little bearing on the question of war, inasmuch as it is possible to argue that one can fight without bitterness and kill in battle without hatred. Whatever may be thought on that particular point, the important fact for us to notice just now is, not only that the early Christians considered themselves bound by these precepts of love and non-resistance in an extremely close and literal way, but that they did actually interpret them as ruling out the indictment of wrongdoers in the law-courts and participation in the acts of war. And when we consider that these same simple-minded Christians of the first generations did more for the moral purification of the world in which they lived than perhaps has ever been done before or since, their principles will appear to be not quite so foolish as they are often thought to be.

We proceed to quote the main utterances of the early Christian writers on this subject. The Apostle Paul writes to the Thessalonians: “May the Lord make you to increase and abound in love towards one another and towards all. 1 . . . See (to it) that no one renders to any evil in return for evil, but always pursue what is good towards one another and towards all.” 2 To the Galatians: “As then we have opportunity, let us work that which is good towards all.” 3 To the Corinthians: “What (business) is it of mine to judge outsiders?. . . outsiders God will judge.” 4 To the Romans: “Render to no one evil for evil. . . . If possible, as far as lies in your power, be at peace with all men. Do not avenge yourselves, beloved, but leave room for the wrath (of God); for it is written: ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.’ But if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink; for by doing this thou wilt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not conquered by evil, but conquer evil with (what is) good. . . . Owe no man anything, except mutual love: for he who loves his neighbour has fulfilled the Law. For the (commandment): ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery,’ ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ ‘Thou shalt not steal,’ ‘Thou shalt not covet,’ and whatever other commandment there is, is summed up in this saying: ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.’ Love does not work evil on a neighbour: love therefore is the fulfilment of the Law.” 5 To the Philippians: “Let your forbearance be known to all men.” 6 A practical instance of the way in which Paul ‘conquered evil with what is good’ appears in his treatment of Onesimos, the slave who had robbed his Christian master and then run away from him: Paul, who came across him at Rome, called him ‘My child, whom I have begotten in my bonds,’ and gained by love so great and good an influence over him as to be able to send him back with a letter of apology and commendation to his offended master. 1 In the Pastorals we read: “The servant of God ought not to fight, but to be mild to all, a (skilled) teacher, patient of evil ( ), gently admonishing his opponents—God may possibly give them repentance (leading) to a knowledge of truth, and they may return to soberness out of the snare of the devil” 2 ; “Remind them. . . to be ready for every good work, to rail at no one, to be uncontentious, forbearing, displaying all gentleness towards all men.” 3 In the Epistle of James: “With it (the tongue) we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse men who are made in the likeness of God. Out of the same mouth issues blessing and cursing. My brothers, this ought not to be so.” 4 In the Epistle of Peter: “Honour all men. 5 . . . For unto this were ye called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example in order that ye might follow in his footsteps:. . . who, when he was reviled, did not revile in return, when he suffered, did not threaten, but entrusted himself to Him who judges righteously. 6 . . . Finally, (let) all (be). . . humble, not rendering evil in return for evil or reviling in return for reviling, but on the contrary blessing (those who revile you): for unto this were ye called, in order that ye might inherit a blessing. 1 . . . For it is better, if the Will of God wills (it so), to suffer for doing right rather than for doing wrong: because Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order that he might bring us to God.” 2 We do not need to quote over again the passages in the Gospels bearing upon this aspect of Christian conduct, as they have already been fully considered in our examination of the teaching of Jesus; but it is important to bear in mind the immense significance which those passages would have for the evangelists who embodied them in their Gospels and for the contemporary generation of Christians. Echoes of them are heard in other Christian writings of the time. Thus the Didache says: “This is the way of life: first, thou shalt love the God who made thee, secondly, thy neighbour as thyself: and all things whatsoever thou wouldest not should happen to thee, do not thou to another. The teaching of these words is this: Bless those who curse you, and pray for your enemies, and fast on behalf of those who persecute you: for what thanks (will be due to you), if ye love (only) those who love you? do not the gentiles also do the same? But love ye those who hate you, and ye shall not have an enemy. . . . If anyone give thee a blow upon the right cheek, turn the other also to him, and thou shalt be perfect: if anyone impress thee (to go) one mile, go two with him: if anyone take away thy cloak, give him thy tunic also: if anyone take from thee what is thine, do not demand it back. 3 . . . Thou shalt not plan any evil against thy neighbour. Thou shalt not hate any man; but some thou shalt reprove, on some thou shalt have mercy, for some thou shalt pray, and some thou shalt love above thine own soul. 1 . . . Thou shalt not become liable to anger—for anger leads to murder—nor jealous nor contentious nor passionate, for from all these things murders are born.” 2 “Every word,” says the Epistle of Barnabas, “which issues from you through your mouth in faith and love, shall be a means of conversion and hope to many.” 3