Final Version

PACIFISM
PACIFISM

 by

 ERIC RUDOLPH *
 May-July 2005 AD
 

I.  Introduction   1
II. Force and Society  8
III. Pacifism and Christianity 18
IV. War and Ideology   84
V. Secular Pacifism  109

 I.  Introduction

     “Violence never solves anything.”  I'm sure you've heard this before.  It is a common expression in our modern society.  Whether coming from Christians or secular liberals, this phrase sums up one of the most popular ideas of our time–nonviolence, pacifism.  The effects of pacifism in our society are pervasive:  Every politician when justifying military force must contend with it;  every lawmaker or enforcer must deal with it when explaining the need for proportional use of force in dealing with criminals;  and every historian must force his subject to pass muster before this modern pacifist ideal.  Ideologically, pacifism reigns supreme:  It wins the debate on every college campus;  many parents tutor their children with this ideal;  and most preachers and public figures must parrot the rhetoric of pacifism.  It is the message of the pop-culture when dealing with issues of conflict:  Bono, the singer for the rock band U-2, croons about the “great” figures in our time who acted “In The Name of Love,” and the Black Eyed Peas ask us “Where Is All The Love?”  One can muster a universe of facts against this faith, and yet its believers are impervious to any reason or logic that contradicts it.  And even though its true-believers are a minority, the majority pays lip-service to its tenets, at least in public, as if its “truths” are self-evidence.  While the majority of Westerners frankly are chasing after materialism and self-interest (the American Dream), if they were to get what is now called a “social-conscience,” this secular liberal pacifism is considered the height of piety in the modern era.  It is one of the most powerful ideas in history–if by powerful one means popular.  And like most popular ideas it's based upon lies, half-truths, and delusions.
     Generally the pacifist influences in our society come in two categories.  There is the Christian variety, or those who claim to derive their pacifist beliefs from the teachings of Christ.  Besides the religiously oriented variety, there is the popular secular liberal kind with its saints Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr.  The latter variety has an amalgam of influences:  liberalism, Christianity, classical humanism, Fabian socialism, Buddhism, and the Enlightenment.
    Fundamental Christianity's influence in our society has been on the wane in the last half-century, and has largely been replaced by this latter quasi-religious secular liberalism, a sort of secular spirituality that has a strong pacifist message.  It's the kind of message as pushed by Hollywood in their love everybody, feel-good, culturally and religiously neutral movies.  Its primary messages are tolerance, equality, diversity, and nonviolence.  Current day popular Christianity is largely a reflection of the society in which we live, as most religions are, and this society is overwhelmingly dominated by this secular liberal pacifism.  This type of Christianity sounds exactly like the Hollywood  message, with the exception that it still uses Jesus and his teachings to support its belief system.  The likely consequences of a society dominated by these influences are far reaching and potentially catastrophic.
     What I will try to explore in this essay is whether or not pacifism, of whatever variety, is a tenable, consistent philosophy, and whether adherence to pacifism is more harmful than the evils it seeks to curtail.  Originally my focus was to be exclusively on whether or not the Judeo-Christian religious tradition teaches an absolute pacifism.  Christianity's supposed pacifism is a common theme argued today, and one I was eager to dispel.  But once I was into the essay it seemed impossible to explain how pacifism impacts Christianity without at the same time including many general facts and themes of the secular world.  Consequently, even though the focus of the piece is on Christianity and pacifism, an explanation of other topics–war, ideology, law enforcement, society–is necessary to put Christianity and pacifism into the context of society and history.
     The first section is meant to lay the groundwork for discussion on pacifism and religion by taking a no-nonsense view of how all societies use force to organize and maintain their existence.  It is one thing to hope, as the pacifist does, for a world where force will never be necessary, but the reality is that society is saturated with the use of force.  (By force, I am talking about the common definition of force:  coercive or violent physical measures used by humans against other humans.)  I will argue that the facts of life in our society demonstrate that force is an integral necessary part of our existence.  The state first and foremost uses armies to protect the external integrity of the nation, the nation being birthed in warfare and maintaining its existence through the use of armed force.  And internally, the state uses force to regulate the conduct of its citizens by enacting, adjudicating, and enforcing laws.  Reform them as you may, these two elements (armies and laws) are essential in modern civilization, and no society now or in the past has been able to do without them.  Furthermore, any participant in a society organized by force has, by virtue of that participation, at least implicitly consented to the idea of force.  It matters not whether one personally uses force.
     The second part of this essay is devoted to dispelling the vogue notion that Christianity propounds an absolute pacifist creed.  Although it has a pacifist tendency within it, Christianity is not a pacifist religion.  Christian pacifism is a product of its early ascetic practices.  Almost all philosophies and religions have their ascetic tendencies.  In their quest to divorce themselves from the impurities of this world, the ascetics curtail certain conduct seen as holding them back from enlightenment, purity, and Godliness.  Three of the most common “worldly” activities ascetics eschew are sex, business activity, and violence.  Usually, asceticism is seen in the beginnings of a tradition when it is still in its nascent phase.  And usually there is a transition period where the extreme expressions of asceticism are modified and the tradition then turns to embrace and reform the world rather than break from it entirely.  Instead of a condemnation of all worldly concerns, a controlling influence is promulgated.  Because physical force is such an integral part of society, the new religion sanctifies violent actions under proscribed conditions rather than condemning it outright.  Christ's teachings clearly denote a message of moderation and not extreme asceticism.  With a complete reading of the Bible cannon, it is hard to escape-nay, it is impossible to escape the fact that the Judeo-Christian tradition embraces the use of force in proscribed situations as a necessary part of life on planet earth.  And despite the hope in a coming Kingdom of Heaven where the use of force does not exist, the Orthodox Christian must recognize the necessity for physical violence in the upkeep of society while still in the world.  Fifteen hundred years of Western Civilization history is a testament to this fact.  For without Christian soldiers it is likely that Christianity in its Western form would not have survived.
     It is common to hear people make the mistake of ascribing the immediate “cause” of a war to some religions or ideological argument.  As if what is being fought for are tenets and principles and so forth.  Because it is believed that the war is about ideological causes, the pacifist, and many other people for that matter, argue that armed struggle is often inconsistent with the tenets of the religion or ideology itself.  Without a proper understanding of history, it is  easy to make this mistake.  The third section is designed to try to make clear that armed struggles are generally fought over immediate issues involving existential power clashes.  Although it is true that  religion and ideology may give rise to the identity of the independent state itself, the immediate causes of a war are likely as not a power disjunction, a clash of power interests that are separate from the religion and identity itself.  Because there are many competing independent states with no regulating authority limiting their conduct in the world, clashes with similarly constituted independent states are inevitable.  Clashes over territory, economic assets, and anything that affect the security, health, and power of the nation may cause war if the nation's leadership considers those interests vital.  Once a clash takes place, the paradigm is victory or defeat, survival or extinction.  In the struggle ideologies and religions serve as weapons in the arsenal of each state as it struggles for power, the power to live as it chooses.  If the people of a nation are religious, they will use religion to justify their warlike actions during the power struggle.  If they prefer secular ideology to religion, they will use this to justify their armed struggle.  They will do this despite any contradiction within the religion or ideology to their actions.  In order to win the war nations will ally themselves to nations evincing hostile ideologies or religions.  And when their power interests clash, nations will make war on other nations with otherwise friendly ideologies or religions.  Although one may make the inference that the religion or ideology may be the origin of the state itself, and that the creation of different states based upon these identity differences makes power clashes and war possible, the immediate cause of war is usually a power clash involving vital interests not religious tenets or ideological principles.  Understanding this will help the person sort out why politicians make the decisions during war that are seemingly at odds with their nation's stated religious or ideological beliefs or goals.  This does not mean that the religion or ideological beliefs are unimportant in power struggles.  No, they are essential in maintaining the identity of the group.  The war is generally being fought over whether the group will survive as it wishes or succumb to a group with a hostile identity.  In a larger sense this section attempts to scratch the surface on the origins of warfare and how it is inextricably linked to human existence, thus making pacifism an unrealizable dream, for the nature of human freedom itself is the ultimate cause for war.  To pacify the planet is to tyrannize against freedom.
     Finally, after explaining the incompatibility of principled pacifism with human freedom, I will make a small effort to explain the practice and origins of the current secular pacifism.  Gandhi and Martin Luther King are the two figures most commonly seen as the true practitioners of this curious mix of politics and pacifism.  I hope to show that both men were practical politicians who used the platitudes of pacifism to further a political agenda that was inherently connected to the idea of force.  By taking a look at their lives and actions it is plain to see that these men were not holy men, but rather hardcore, intelligent politicians using a particular tactic to accomplish a specific end.  Both attempted to change the laws or the government, knowing full well that the laws and government they wished to take possession of were backed by the use of force.  If successful in changing the law or government, neither of the two ever proposed a society where laws would not be enforced or armies would not be used, thus making their claims to pacifism seem less than genuine.  Both wanted to take possession of the guns of the state and use them to their liking, but both used a novel tactic to achieve this.  The tactic in both cases was to deliberately provoke their opponents to use violent force against their movements in order to build the moral capital that goes with being the victim of aggression.  And then they hoped to use this moral capital to elicit sympathy for their causes creating the necessary political power to achieve their objectives.  Both used this tactic knowing they were placing their followers in jeopardy, believing that the sacrifices were worth it.  Gandhi and King chose not to use armed struggle to further their causes not out of any principled opposition to violence, but rather because the tactic they settled on was more effective in achieving their ends.  Looked at closer, no politician, including Gandhi or King, can avoid the association with force and violence;   politics and pacifism simply are incompatible.
 What is more important is not the tactic use by the likes of Gandhi and King, but rather why are their pacifist platitudes so well received in the Western world today.  Why are both revered as the models for political change?  It is my contention that they were smart politicians pandering to a toothless society, a society made weak and effete by a comfortable lifestyle.  The Western world has become technologically organized to such an extent that most people are not required to struggle in order to stay alive.  A huge compartmentalized system has removed them from the necessity of struggle.  The battle for life still exists, it has merely been removed from  most people's lives, so they take their passive conditions for granted and do not recognize the efforts that technology has made to create their protected condition.  The mechanisms that feed, clothe, shelter, and protect the modern citizen are handled by a relatively small minority of the population, thus taking the struggle far from the average person.  This is especially true when it comes to the use of force as carried out by cops and soldiers to protect society.  In former times, the average person was closely connected with the battle to survive–hunting, gathering, growing their food, and fighting to protect themselves and their group.
     It is a truism that strife is an essential element in producing healthy organisms, not just humans but all organisms.  In modern society a huge barrier of protection has been erected around our lives, alleviating the need for hardship and strife.  And as a result the individual has become weak, effete, atrophied by a comfortable lifestyle.  I believe this explains the prevalence and potency of pacifism in the West.  Despite its philosophical pretensions, pacifism in our world is largely a reflection of these enervating conditions.  The problem is that when the establishment starts to push the weakening ideals of pacifism, society is made vulnerable to attack by other societies less squeamish about the use of force.  If the nation, any nation, is not capable of waging war because its citizens have renounced violence, eventually the nation will become the slave of a nation that has not been infected with pacifist delusions.  As Oswald Spengler aptly said, “Pacifism is an ideal, war is a fact.  If the Western nations cease to use it, the East will become masters of the globe.  History reckons nothing of human logic.”
     I have written this essay while confined at the Jefferson County Jail.  I am allowed a minimum number of books in my cell, which makes referencing names and dates problematical.  Many of the references are therefore drawn from memory, so I will beg the reader's pardon if I have cited a name or date incorrectly.

 II.  Force and Society

     Before we look at how Christianity views the use of force, let us look briefly at what role force plays in society.  A 18th century rationalist philosopher, Sulzer, once tried to explain to Frederick the Great, king of Prussia, that man's nature was essentially good.  He argued that if only society's institutions of “oppression” (jail, courts, military), which he claimed taught men violence, were removed, man would show his natural goodness.  Being a ruler confronted with the realities of human nature everyday, Frederick responded to this nonsense, "My dear Sulzer, you know too little this accursed race to which we belong."  So in the spirit of Frederick, let us have no illusions about man or the society in which he lives.  Let us first see society for what it is rather than what it should be.  Aspirations may provide hope and progress for man, but the recognition of reality is necessary for survival.
     In this vein of reality thinking, we must acknowledge that force has two essential functions in society.  First, force is used to secure the existence of the nation by fighting off or deterring potential competitor nations.  Second, enforcement of the laws within this nation is necessary to establish a civil society.  Without these two elements organized society would not be possible.  An independent nation would not be possible without armies or alliances containing armies, to defend it from potentially predatory nations.  And a society of relative peace and order would not be possible without the enforcement of laws.  Like Sulzer, one can hope for a Utopia where this basic paradigm of reliance on force is not necessary, but the reality is that every society now in existence is dependent upon this model.  Tinker with it as much as the utopians dare, human societies have always functioned that way.
     First, the origin of the independent state itself is in usurpation, armed revolution, the overthrow of the hitherto legally constituted government.  Trace the history of any nation and you will find the birth of the nation covered in the blood of violent revolution.  It is hard to avoid.  All political change of this magnitude is usually brought about by force.
     Tracing America's political tradition back, one can see some of the violent usurpations that led to the current American system.  The British monarchy had its traditional start when William the Conqueror seized control of England after winning the battle of Hastings in 1066.  Many more violent usurpations of the crown occurred over the centuries.  The Lancasters and the Yorks, for example, fought over the crown for years in the Wars of the Roses (1453-1485).  Then, there was the odious Richard III, who seized the throne after having his nephew, Edward V, the proper heir, killed in the Tower of London.  Henry Tudor then came to power after defeating Richard at the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485.  Parliament, after many years of struggle, broke with the monarchy, fighting a bloody civil war (1642-1660).  After losing a few battles during this war, Charles I was captured, tried, and beheaded (1649).  Oliver Cromwell was then installed by Parliament as Chancellor of the British Commonwealth.  Cromwell ruled for ten years, after which Charles II, son of the beheaded Charles I, was restored.  From 1660 to 1689, the Stuarts ruled England until Parliament once again rose in revolt, deposing James II in the so-called “Glorious Revolution.”  Parliament then called upon William of Orange (a realm in Holland) and his wife, Mary, to rule England and take the crown.  And finally in the vein of the Glorious Revolution, the colonists of New England revolted against the authority of the mother country in 1776.  It is a long and bloody history, but just a drop in the bucket when it comes to the political evolution of all the states in the world.
     Once established, every state maintains armies to secure its sovereignty and the integrity of its interests.  Because independent states are only limited in their actions by their own power, it is always possible that a state's existence, or its interests, may be threatened by other states.  This collision of interests may result in war, depending upon the leadership and how important the interests are that they are contending over.  In order to meet this eventuality, states keep diplomats, spies, and armies to secure their vital interests.
 Despite popular thinking, most of the major decisions affecting the integrity of the nation are decided upon the battlefield:  whether the American people were going to govern themselves was decided by the Revolutionary War;  whether America would be divided into two independent states was decided by the Civil War;  whether Germany and Japan would be the paramount powers in the world was decided in WWII;  whether communism was going to extend itself across the globe was decided by the long conflict of the Cold War.  These are just a few salient questions that have affected one state, the United States.  Of course, reasonable people agree that diplomacy should be used, and every possibility exhausted short of war; however, all states will use war if their vital interests are threatened.  Therefore, while it may be good to promote passive relations among citizens of the same country by pushing the notion that “violence never solves anything,” if we are to be honest with ourselves, violence indeed solves most of the important questions in history.  Ask Hitler and Tojo if violence ever solved anything.
     Along with armies to defend the nation from without, every state must use force internally to maintain a civil society.  In order to do this, the state must make, adjudicate, and enforce laws.  Laws regulate the relations of citizens.  Laws protect the weak from the criminal exploitation of the strong and prevent internal disputes from becoming armed struggles; they keep the internal peace.  While it is true that the legitimacy of the state and its laws rests mainly upon the willing and voluntary habit of obedience of its citizens, without the enforcement factor, the laws would remain principles, obeyed at the discretion of the individual.  Enforcement implies the use of violent force.  If necessary, all  laws are carried into effect using deadly force, especially those laws against murder, rape, robbery, and insurrection.  There is no government anywhere that will not resort to deadly force in order to procure obedience to its laws.  One can argue over the situations and severity of when and how deadly force should be used, but no government can survive if it renounces the use of deadly force in all situations of lawbreaking.
     In dealing with internal peace and the usages of law, governments generally function in three divisions: the legislature, which makes the laws; the judicial, which interprets and adjudicates the laws; and the executive, which carries the laws into effect.  The crucial part of the three is the executive.  Without the executive, the legislature would merely be a debating society, its conclusions carrying no weight except that given by the individual's discretion in choosing whether to obey the laws or not.  The judicial would merely be an arbitration hearing, its judgments meaningless without enforcement to see that its judgments are implemented.  It is the executive that is the crucial factor in a society of laws.  For example, in the U.S. there are three legal jurisdictions:  federal, state, and county.  The president, governor, and sheriff are the executives in each of these jurisdictions.  Without these three entities organized society in America would not be possible.  The laws are backed by their guns.  Like it or not our society is dependent upon walls, guarded by these men with guns, keeping out uncontrolled human nature.
     Societies  have evolved variations as to how these three elements–executive, legislative, and judicial–function.  In former times, all these functions were intimately connected under the executive authority, the king.  The king traditionally made laws, appointed judges, and enforced them to his liking.  With the coming of republicanism, the tendency has been to separate these functions within the same government so as to create a system of so called “checks and balances.”  This was done to give the people more power and to prevent giving one branch of the government–namely the king–too much consolidated power.  Play with this formula as much as they like, any political philosopher knows that the basis to any organized society is the executive authority, which enforces the laws.  Please show me the society that does not use force to implement its laws.
     If the political system is based upon the enforcement of laws, then it follows that any direct participation in that system is a use of force.  One does not have to join the military or police forces to engage in the force of the state, because in a democratic society, such as ours, the citizens are the prime movers, the cops and soldiers are the tools of the citizenry.  If one votes, he is using force;  if one engages in political activism in order to affect or change the laws, he is using force.  And yes, if one pays taxes, he is using force.  Soldiers and cops serve the executive, the executive implements the laws of the legislators, and in a democratic society, the legislators and executives serve the electorate.  And taxes are used for the upkeep of this system of force.
 Despite any claims to non-violent political change, any political activist agitating to change any law is supporting the use of force, for they have every expectation that the laws that they are attempting to change, will, once changed, be enforced.  This applies to all activists, despite their claims to passivity.  When Gandhi was agitating for Indian independence, he certainly was not calling for the non-enforcement of the laws once that independence was achieved.  He wasn't calling for a future Indian state where armed forces would not be necessary.  Similarly, when Martin Luther King was agitating to overturn the laws of segregation, he never once said that if he was successful in changing these laws that he would never countenance their enforcement.  When did either of these practical politicians call for a society where laws would never be enforced.  King knew quite well that if the laws were changed to  his liking they would need to be enforced, if necessary with guns and jails.  And he knew that in extremis these laws would require deadly force.
     Pacifism and politics simply do not mix, except as a propaganda ploy, an image booster.  Politics is activity in relation to power, and this power is backed up by force or the threat of force.  Is it not inconsistent to participate in a system that is inherently reliant upon force, and, at the same time, condemn the usage of force that is necessary to keep this system afloat?  It is also inconsistent and foolish to say that you will use the force of the laws in order to create a society where force will never be necessary.  Can a pacifist wage war to create a world where war will not exist?  That is absurd.  Certainly it is legitimate to use force to limit the occasions of war, to bring about a more peaceful world.  The basic idea of the laws is to use a superior amount of force to deter crime, and it is basic foreign policy to deter aggressors by keeping a superior military.  But it is not possible to conclude that the superior use of force will ultimately result in a utopian society where wars will never happen.  And in a world where crime and war are permanent features, it is a poor leadership which would allow a philosophy of pure pacifism to take hold in their society, knowing that they may need to call upon their citizens to defend themselves or their nation.  Of course, there is the occasional politician hiding behind the mask of pacifism.  If he actually believes that he can be a pacifist and a politician, you are dealing with a fool, but more often it is a practical politician using the language of pacifism to pander to a toothless constituency.  In this case, he is a wolf in sheep's clothing.
     Let us then take this argument to its logical conclusion:  if a person participates in any society based upon the force of the state–the war-making and law enforcement powers–he is indirectly supporting the use of force.  There is probably no activity within society that is not affected in some way by the laws that regulate that society.  Please, think of some activity, product, or benefit that is not affected by the regulating and protecting activity of the state.  If one lives within the boundaries of an organized state, owns property, lives in a house, buys groceries, receives health-care, drives or walks on the roads, and clothes himself, he is participating in a state system that requires force to function.  It matters not at all whether he personally uses force, it matters not a whit whether he pays taxes, elects politicians, or agitates for changes in the laws–if he lives in and benefits from modern society he is reliant upon force for his survival.  He can hypocritically castigate those who do the heavy lifting for him–revolutionaries, soldiers, cops–but he can not find an organized society on this planet that is not dependent upon them.
     If he purchases some apples at a grocery store, for example, they are stained in the blood that was necessarily shed to create and  maintain the society that allowed them to be grown, delivered, sold, and finally eaten in peace.  Even though he may wash the blood off, they would not have made it to his mouth without that blood being shed:  The land where they were grown was located within the borders of a  nations that was birthed in blood and now requires armies for its protection.  Then there are the laws securing the property rights and civil rights of the farmer.  Also, there are laws regulating the sale of apples, protecting those who purchase them from being poisoned or cheated, and even the process of traveling to the co-op in a truck on state maintained roads is regulated.  There are literally hundreds of laws and regulations that somehow affect those apples as they make their way to his mouth, all of which ultimately depend upon force.
     There are few places on this planet that are touched lightly by a state and its laws.  To break all contact with a society contaminated by force, one would have to travel to the lawless regions of the Amazon, New Guinea, Sudan, or maybe the Upper Congo.  It's only there you will find that the tentacles of state regulations do not grip tightly.  But, despite the lack of laws, our immigrant pacifist would not be able to escape the use of force.  If he were to live in such conditions of complete anarchy, force would certainly be necessary;  however, instead of the state wielding the sword with its cops and soldiers, the pacifist himself would have to use force to defend life and limb.  And I do mean limb:  New Guineans are still quite fond of taking desiccated body parts as trophies from their enemies.  Living in a place where the laws of the state do not extend, would in fact be a textbook lesson in why force is an essential element in the creation of a civilization.  Confronted with the daily struggle to survive in such a place, the pacifist would quickly see that his notions of pacifism are truly the luxury of a protected class of people living in an organized society.  The pacifist is so well protected that he forgets his protectors, and takes for granted the state of peace created for him by these protectors.  He is so far removed from the necessity of struggle that he begins to think that struggle is not necessary.  The reality is he does not appreciate that the struggle is being waged for him by others, who fight his wars for him and keep predatory criminal behavior at bay.  This ingrate sits around his café sipping on lattes, railing against the “fascist brutality” of the police and military, when it is only because of the efforts of cops and soldiers that he is allowed to sit peacefully breathing out such inanities.
     Despite the charming folksy ways of the Amish, there can be no private pacifist Idahos. The Anabaptist sects of Christianity–Amish, Mennonite, Quakers–have traditionally sought to completely separate themselves from society because of its inherent connection to force.  They wanted to set up a society that was not tainted with these “worldly” things.  Likewise, modern pacifist believers preach their toothless humanity while they are safe and sound on the campuses of this nation.  But whether they are in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, or in Berkeley, California, both types of pacifists are in ideological fantasy land.  They take no cognizance of the larger society around them that insures their existence and continued safety.  One can personally remove himself from the use of force, but no society, even a society within a society, can do away with the need for force.  That is  what these pacifist communities are:  societies within society.  And it is the larger society that does the heavy lifting of force for them.  The Amish, for instance, are reliant upon the United States military to secure the sovereignty of the land where they have set up their little community.  It is the million or so American war dead that has insured the independence of the nation that provides them sanctuary.  Although they may pray and preach pacifism all they wish to, it is the policeman, judge, and jailer who keep them safe at night.  The Amish as well as the Berkeley pinko take advantage of a society that is saturated by force.  When the Amish drive their buggies to town, they refuse to acknowledge that the roads beneath their wheels were paved in the blood of war and law enforcement.  For if they were not, they certainly would not be on these roads, nor would they be able to reach their destination without the forceful regulation of these roads.  The same goes for virtually every aspect of society they take advantage of.  Rather than being the paragon of virtue, the pacifist is actually an ingrate, relying upon the labors of others to survive, and yet cursing those labors.  He curses the mechanisms of society, yet he eats at the table erected by these mechanisms.
     In short, force is inextricably linked to human society.  It surrounds us in everything we do.  Renounce it as you might, you cannot survive without it.  All societies are dependent upon governments that were birthed in revolution and require armies, cops, judges and jails to function.  All of these functionaries must and will use deadly force to maintain the security of society.  It does not matter whether you personally participate in th is usage of force, every person who takes advantage of society, including a pacifist,  is giving  his implied consent to the use of force on his behalf.  You may stand upon your hypocritical high horse and say that you do not approve of killing.  You may get others to do your killing for you–revolutionaries, soldiers, cops.  But, like it or not, your existence in society depends upon taking human life.
     Given enough time and serious thought, all philosophies, religions, and belief systems come to the conclusion that force is inextricably linked to society, and if they wish to function as a part of that society, they must come to terms with its use.  Many religions deal with the demons of extreme asceticism, and with asceticism the complete renunciation of violence;  however, most exorcize the demons of asceticism and come to embrace society rather than run from it.  Christianity is no exception to this maturing process. With this in mind, the Amish are an aberration and not the reflection of the true faith.  The fact that they are still riding around in horse and buggy is an excellent example of how their asceticism is an abject failure to come to terms with the reality of the world.

 III.  Pacifism and Christianity

     I recently read an editorial in relation to my case, in which the writer made the assertion that no Christian could have done these bombings, that the idea of violence runs counter to Christian values.  It's a common assertion, one that I've heard more often than I can remember.  It has always struck me as a contradiction every time I hear such language.  And the contradiction is this:  Calvados-I mean the cemetery at Normandy, France, which contains 9,500 Americans killed in the battles there in the summer of 1944.  Looking at the monuments that stretch into the distance, I'm reminded of this contradiction.  There are thousands of stones, each one marking the burial place of one American soldier, a warrior, someone that died in battle–men of violence.  White and stark, the monuments are set in perfect alignment;  in the abstract the cemetery is a beautiful sight of geometric application.  But the reality is that there beneath the stones lie the remains of lives cut short–cut short by wounds received in battle, war dead.  And what is the shape of the white stones set atop of their graves?  The cross, the symbol of Christianity, placed by the thousands upon these warriors' graves.  Assuming that the assertions of the pacifist editor are correct, I have always been curious about the seeming contradiction of these warriors buried beneath the symbol of a supposedly pacifist religion.  Were these apostate Christians who died in disobedience to their creed?  It's not a small question, because from Charlemagne to General Patton, many millions of warriors in the Western world have been buried under the cross.  Were they all apostates living a sinful life, spitting upon the very monuments that rest upon their bones?
     Many people have also asked in relation to this case and this situation:  “What would Jesus have done?” meaning what, if anything, would Jesus have done if confronted by the horrors of abortion?  Would he have used force, or approved of the use of force to stop it?  Or would he have stood idly by praying for the  victims as well as the perpetrators? And in a larger sense, if it is the duty of Christians to follow the example of Christ, should Christians ever participate in the use of force under any circumstances?  Is Christianity a pacifist religion?  These are questions that are often asked in modern life by Christians, theologians, and preachers when situations of force come up, such as self-defense, the defense of others, and also the justification for the organized use of force:  law enforcement, war, and even revolution.  Where does Christianity stand on these questions?  Bear with me as I attempt to answer these and many other related questions.
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     The character of a people's belief-system is often shaped by the social-political-cultural environment in which it exists and the instinct or response that the people who believe in it develop as a result of this environment.  Christianity's early character was largely a response to the environment in which it was practiced.  In the early days of Christianity, Christians were an unloved minority living in a world hostile toward their faith.  And as a result of this hostility they often ran into conflict with the majority.  Persecution was a hallmark of the early Church.  The question arose as to how Christians should respond to this continual persecution. Because they were a weak minority made up of primarily the urban poor, the Apostles decided to adopt a low-profile and take a passive stance to the provocations of the majority.  This passive attitude taken by Christians had less to do with something inherent in the faith than to the contingencies of the situation they lived in that necessitated them taking a passive stance in order to survive in a hostile environment.  The overwhelming hostility that Christians had to live with cannot be overstated.  Practically all of the early church fathers were killed as a result of their beliefs;  Paul was beheaded at Rome after being forced before the Roman courts by the Jewish authorities;  Stephen was stoned for preaching the Gospel;  James was martyred,  and countless other believers met premature deaths at the hands of Jews, Greeks, Romans, Ephesians, etc.  The New Testament books were written during this period and this is the chief reason why Christianity handed down a strong pacifist bent and an over-concern with trying to avoid conflicts.
     It was only later when Christianity became the establishment religion under the emperor Constantine in the early 300s A.D. that its theology had to come to terms with things like how to carry-out the necessary functions of the state, such as the waging of wars and the enforcement of the laws.  These things were written about by most of the church fathers–St. Augustine, St. Anselm, St. Aquinas–contemporary with Christianity's becoming an establishment religion.  All had to deal with these new problems that Peter and Paul never dreamed would ever become issues.
     With this in mind, understanding verses like Eph. 6:12 becomes less difficult:  “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”  This verse is part of a response by Paul to the Church in Ephesus as to how to deal with their latest conflict with the Greek majority.  His advice in this case was to suck it up and take it, for in his view the end of the world was at hand, and essentially the real conflict is between the powers of the spirit not the flesh.  This approach to a momentary crisis by Paul has since been used by many Christian preachers and teachers to neutralize physical conflicts and spin Christianity as an essentially pacifist religion.  The real interpretation of this verse is, of course, within the context of the conflict which gave rise to it.
 * * *
     Besides responding to their hostile environment, another reason why Paul and the Apostles thought that issues of politics and force were not very relevant was because of Christ's teaching concerning the Kingdom of Heaven.  Christ came in the form of the prophet, not a politician.  There are many issues that he, as a prophet, didn't opine upon.  He came to heal, preach, and exhort, not fight or engage in political debate or social activism.  Contrary to present day myth, Christ was not an ancient day version of Gandhi and Martin Luther King.  He did not agitate to change any laws.  What was important to him was the next world, not this one.  Because of this he spoke to the individual's relationship with God in preparation for the next world.  Such political questions as concerned the secular Roman world in which he lived were not necessarily relevant to him, but rather secondary to the individual soul's relationship to God in preparation for His coming Kingdom of Heaven.
     The Kingdom of Heaven  is both an ethic and an actual otherworldly place, which is characterized by the complete practice of this ethic.  Christians believe that they have a duty to their fellow man, and that by service to others they find the true meaning of life in this world and the key to entering the next.  This is based upon Christ's Kingdom of Heaven message that he preached to the multitudes on dusty hills and in back-alley synagogues throughout Palestine.  Christ taught that the end of the world was near and that he would usher in the next, which he called the Kingdom of Heaven.  The fundamental difference between this coming kingdom and the kingdoms of this world, is that in the otherworldly kingdom each soul lives for the interest of others and not for itself.  Self-interest, on the other hand, is the ethos of this world of the flesh.  Christ delivered this message in simple yet powerful parables (Matt. 13), which have this ethic as their central message:  that a man/woman should live in service to something other than one's self.  And if one places this law into their hearts, the key to the next world will be theirs.  Christians believe that when Christ returns with his kingdom the dead will be raised, and alongside the living, both will be judged according to the deeds they've done in this world (Rev. 20:12).  These deeds are recorded in a great Book of Life.  In Christ's scales of justice, he will place those works done in compliance with the ethic of the Kingdom of Heaven, and in the other, will be placed sins and works done in service to self.  Those found wanting will be thrown into the lake of fire.
     This message of the coming kingdom is central to Christ's teaching.  He taught that he would usher in this kingdom shortly after his crucifixion and resurrection;  however, he was not exact as to when this would occur:  “Verily I say unto you, this generation shall not pass, till all these things be fulfilled.  Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.  But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.”  (Matt. 24:34-36).  Uncertain as to his teachings on the coming kingdom, his disciples expected the kingdom to come “shortly” (Rev. 1:1).  And because of this expectation, their concerns about day-to-day issues were strictly secondary to  this coming kingdom.  They believed that the paradigm of the Kingdom of Heaven was different from the kingdom of the world:  in heaven, such things as marriage, children, business, war, politics, crime and punishment, pain, and death did not exist;  it was a utopia ruled by God where nothing bad ever happened.  Christians have ever since the crucifixion been waiting for this kingdom as explicated in Revelations.  One cannot understand early Christian thinking without the realization that they believed that this world would “shortly” pass away, and all power here on earth would be “put down.”  Because early Christians thought that the end of the world was just around the corner, they taught that the concerns of this life and the issues of contention in this world were largely irrelevant and secondary.  “Therefore take no thought, say what shall we eat? or what shall we drink? or wherewith shall we be clothed ... But seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness;  and all these things shall be added unto you.”  (Matt. 6:31-33).
     Needless to say the Kingdom of Heaven message affected early Christian teachings with respect to social relations and political-military issues.  There developed a sort of dual teaching about the essential belief in the coming Kingdom of Heaven, where on the one hand the issues and paradigms of this world didn't apply, and then on the other, the need for Christians to function within a world that still existed and where the paradigms of the flesh were applicable.  With time the Church became more grounded so to speak, and had to issue teachings–bulls, rules, encyclicals–with respect to how the faithful should behave while still on planet earth:  Wars had to be fought;  laws had to be made and enforced;  business had to be engaged in; and marriages had to be consummated for the production of children.  Life had to go on, albeit with the hope in the coming kingdom, where all these things didn't exist.  It was not that Christians necessarily opposed the things of the world–war, business, marriage, politics–but rather because the core belief was that another world would “shortly come to pass,” all of these things were taken with a grain of salt.  This is one of the chief reasons why Christian teachings in the Gospels are largely indifferent or ambivalent about the concerns of this world.  And this is true when it comes to the necessary use of force.
 * * *
     To understand Jesus' teachings and how he saw his mission, one needs to look at John 18, Christ's trial before Pilate, in particular verse 36.  The Jews try, convict, and sentence him to death for his claims to be God (Mark 14:61-62).  Then they conspire to have the Roman authorities execute him by bringing him before Pilate on the false charge of treason, for his supposed claim to be a secular king (John 18:28-30).  Pilate asks Jesus if he is a king, and Jesus responds:  “My kingdom is not of this world:  if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight that I should not be delivered to the Jews:  but now is my kingdom not from hence.”  Jesus is a spiritual teacher and has never considered Himself to be a social political activist, or a threat to Roman rule.  He has come to earth not to engage in politics, but rather to “bear witness to the truth” (verse 37).  His conflicts are therefore rhetorical, spiritual, and intellectual, not physical.  In other words, Christianity speaks to the individual soul and its relation to the Kingdom of Heaven–the next world.  It didn't have a political agenda per se.  But this certainly doesn't mean that Christians can't have a political agenda or involve themselves in politics.
     Christ was illuminating one of the fundamental divides within the human experience:  the division between the Spirit and the Flesh;  thought and action;  the universal and the particular;  reason and instinct;  soul and body;  and symbol and reality.  This seeming dichotomy has been dealt with by all the great thinkers, holy men, philosophers, and theologians.  It's probably the most thought about problem in human history–the invisible world as opposed to the visible world.
 The realm of spirit, thought, reason, and symbol is that part of ourselves which is invisible, abstract, pure, and deals with things that are metaphysical and intuitive (nonmaterial).  It is that aspect to humanity that uses reason, abstract thinking, intuition and imagination to perceive or build artificial constructs, to develop ideas and establish truths and principles–absolutes.  Using these absolutes the acolytes of the invisible divide the world into true and false, good and bad, righteous and evil.  In this world all things are made sensible and are logically or intuitively explainable according to the established paradigm.  Here, safe from the world of flux, two and two always equals four.  In this realm absolute truth is possible, and therefore a perfect world is possible.  Here is where utopias are built, heavens are explained, Nirvana is attainable.  In these utopias life is perfect, peace is constant, people are reasonable, so wars are unnecessary.  Some of its acolytes like Plato and Aristotle use pure reason and logic to “discover” these metaphysical absolutes (Plato's so-called “Ideas”:  Good, Beauty, Love, Justice), others–Christ, Moses, St. John the Devine–depend upon a revelation from an otherworldly source: God.  Both are cousins, related in their dependence upon the metaphysical and invisible.  St. Thomas Aquinas and the early Church Fathers realized this and used the non-Christian Plato to help explain Christian theological concepts.  This aspect to humanity is the only thing that separates us from the animals, for without self-consciousness, which comes from the ability to imagine or think abstractly, the world would not exist.  The world truly exists only for a consciousness with the ability to see itself in relation to the world around it.  Of all the creatures on planet earth, humans alone have this ability.  On the other hand, the animals, lacking self-consciousness, are not aware of their own existence and the world around them.
     Then there's the world of the flesh–material, physical, the world of action.  And there is that aspect to our organic physical natures rooted in this world:  the desires, emotions, and instincts for self-preservation, sex, and the ever present will to power.  Every creature is endowed with this will to be oneself, to impress upon the world its individual mark, to force the world to march to its tune.  This will impels all individual creatures forward in pursuit of their own self-interest.  Without these instincts we would be unable to feed, reproduce, and defend ourselves.  Without them we would not survive on planet earth.  As groups are formed–tribes, nations, cultures–they develop a singular will to power as well.  All these separate wills chasing  their own self-interests inevitably clash;  thus producing a world of conflict.  It is a world of competition where generally the strong prevail in this war of all against all.  This is the world of politics where principles are often secondary to outcome–the end justifying the means.  Here one is faced with random facts and not self-evident truths.  Often, two plus two equals five, or six, depending upon what the will to power wishes it to be.  Things don't make sense in a rational manner;  organic will rules the day in this irrational world of flux ruled by time.  It is a ruthless ploughing under, where there is nothing permanent except impermanence.  Utopias are not possible in this world, only expediencies based upon continually changing contingencies.  Wars, murder, rape, theft and lies are permanent features of this world, and death is the ultimate expression of its impermanence.  Here truth is relative to power.  Force, not principles, is what rules this world, and in higher civilizations the state is the instrument which actualizes this rule;  i.e., the state is organized force.  This is the veil of tears that we are all chained to  Welcome to planet earth.
     Every higher culture produces a class of people who devote themselves to religion, philosophy, and the life of the mind and spirit.  At their most extreme they are called ascetics.  These wise ones who see deeper, further than the average man, constitute a distinct class within society.  They see the dichotomy between the physical and the metaphysical, or religiously expressed, the flesh and the spirit.  All priesthoods and schools of philosophy are made up of these sensitive souls.  Normal existence is not good enough for these people.  While most people accept life as non-problematical, these wise ones see problems everywhere and question why:  “Why do we die?”  “Is there life after death?”  “When and how did the world begin?”  “Is there a supernatural power?”  “Why is there suffering, desire, pain, crime, war, problems?”  “What is the purpose of life?”  Most people wonder about these seemingly unanswerable questions, but this class of humanity considers it their life's mission to answer or at least satisfy their curiosity about these questions.
     In their quest for answers they almost always develop codes, ethics, rules, and practices which seek to concentrate their energies upon their quest.  Toward this they purify, enlighten, make wise, and keep out of their lives all of the evils and problems that they see in the world that are holding them from the truth, enlightenment and purity.  This is often called the “ascetic ideal.”  Asceticism means to deliberately abstain from those activities which are seen as subtracting from their enlightenment, salvation, purity.  Among the most common activities ascetics abstain from are sex, business, and violence.  (Like most religions and philosophical traditions, Christianity has its ascetic tendencies.  It is essential in understanding Christian asceticism to compare it to the ascetic practices of other traditions.  But even though I compare various ascetic practices from different traditions, this comparison should not be taken as an argument against the truth of the tradition that I personally ascribe to–Christianity.  However, it is helpful in understanding Christian asceticism, and with it pacifism, to compare it to, say Buddhist asceticism.  When it comes to asceticism whether Christian, Buddhist, or Platonic, they all approach their ascetic practices in a similar way, and this is the only reason for making comparisons between Christian and Buddhist practices.  Similarly, in a discussion on prayer, if one were to use comparisons between Hindu, Muslim, and Christian methods of praying, this should not impact upon whether the god they are praying to is the true one or not.  Historical comparison is merely a method of trying to understand the subject of comparison.  In this case, it is pacifism and asceticism, not the truth or falsehood of the traditions themselves.)
     Sex and domesticity are often seen as detracting from the spiritual quest, and so ascetics often do not marry, have children, or engage in sex.  Sex is rooted in the instincts.   Marriage and family ground one in this world and the cares and concerns of this world;  it is the supreme act of connection with this planet.  Life needs to reproduce itself, and marriage and family pays homage to life's demand.  Christ and Paul never married.  Christ taught that some men, like Him, were made “eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven's sake” (Matt. 19:12).  This is the derivation of celibacy within the Christian tradition.  Paul followed this practice and hoped that “all men were as myself,” i.e., celibate, “but every man has his gift of God, one man after this manner, another after that.”  Paul counseled unmarried men and women to remain celibate, but if they could not “contain” their desires they should marry (I Cor. 7:7-8).  Likewise, Buddha left his wife and son in his quest for enlightenment.  He felt that marriage and domesticity would only lead to more suffering (dukkha) as a result of the hated desires, and this would require another reincarnation before one could reach Nirvana (nothingness, nonexistence).  Nirvana is the goal of the Buddhist;  to not be reincarnated and returned to earth is the object.  Life is thought to be a lit candle, and Nirvana is to be the “blowing out” of the flame.  Sex connected the Buddha to life and so was avoided.  (Mind you, I'm not detracting from my belief in Christ's divinity by comparing his and Buddha's common ascetic practices).  Like most philosophers, Plato also had problems with traditional sexual relations.  In his Republic, procreation was a social duty among appropriately matched members of the same class.  There was to be no monogamous, separate marriages.  And children were to be raised by the state in boarding schools.  This was designed to prevent the kind of family politics and infighting that were so destructive in Plato's day.  All, in keeping with the ascetic ideal, had a problem with normal sexual relations.
     Another activity that ascetics commonly eschew is business or at least aggressive money making.  Money making concentrates a person's energies on the acquisition of material things and the need to maintain these things.  This ever chasing after material comforts has the tendency to create an insatiable appetite for more and more wealth, what the ascetics call “greed.”  In every society there are those who are less adept in the competition for wealth;  thus creating the division between rich and poor, and the inevitable inequities involved in this disposition.  Being concerned with issues of social injustice,  ascetics often decry this system of inequality where some have comfort at the expense of those who can't even feed themselves.  The pursuit of wealth has the tendency to place things before people.  It draws one away from the attempt to transcend the world and devote oneself to principle, truth, and purity.  In keeping with this, Christ and his disciples left their professions and lived off the charity of those they preached to.  Christ preached against greed, and claimed that one “cannot serve [both] God and mammon [money]” at the same time.  (Matt. 6:24)  A rich man came to Christ (Matt. 19:16-24) and asked  how he can “have eternal life.”  Christ told him to “keep the commandments,” and finally told  him to “sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor.”  Being a rich man, he walked away in “sorrow” at hearing this.  Christ then opined to his disciples, “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.”  A very hard doctrine, for the rich anyway.  Similarly, St. Francis of Assisi (1200s), the son of a rich merchant, renounced the world and his inheritance to found his Order (Franciscans).  As a symbol of his renunciation, he striped off his expensive clothing and walked naked through the streets.  The monks of St. Francis' Order were known as the “begging friars,” and were often seen in the streets of medieval towns disheveled and starving with a cup in  hand.  Buddha likewise was the son of a rich Kshatriya (the warrior caste), but left his wealth and privilege behind him, and in the tradition of the Ganges ascetics adopted a life of voluntary poverty.  Like Christ, Buddha and his disciples lived off the generous donations of laymen.  Indians have always prided themselves upon the charity given to the mendicant monks.  In the Classical World, Diogenes the Cynic was famous for his begging in the streets.  He was often depicted living in a large earthen jar (the cardboard box of his era).
      And then there's the common ascetic prohibition against physical violence.  For Christ, it was the ideal of loving one's enemies and turning the other cheek.  This is part of the Old Testament tradition to give food and drink to one's enemies, for in doing so one “heaps coals of fire upon their heads.”  (Proverbs).  (This humane treatment was thought to make them mad by giving them unexpected treatment).  Christ believed in a policy of compassion and love toward everyone “if at all possible.”  (Rom. 12:18).  He expected the early advent of the Kingdom of Heaven, wherein war, pain, and death would be done away with.  Buddha believed violence against humans and animals produced bad karma, thus detracting from Enlightenment and eventual Nirvana.
 Violence is irrational and a product of the will to power;  It is an activity rooted in the struggles of this world.  Almost all ascetics work toward nonviolent solutions,  believing in reason, compassion, and perfection.  The extreme elements of this ascetic tendency counseled abstinence from all violence.  In the Western tradition this was the teachings of the so-called “Anabaptists” sects (re-baptizers)–Amish, Mennonites, Quakers, Shakers–who not only broke with the mainstream of the Protestant Reformation, but also broke from society entirely, setting up their own little version of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth.  They believed that to be a Christian one had to completely break with society and wall one's self off from the contamination of such things as the state, with its use of force in war and law enforcement.  Some of the more extreme, like the Shakers, even had rules on absolute celibacy, as well as nonviolence;  hence their sect became extinct within a few generations for lack of procreating and converts.  Earlier in Christian history  many thousands of young men and women shut themselves up into monasteries so they could follow the ascetic ideal (monasticism).  In the Indian world there are sects of extreme ascetics such as the Jains who mortify the flesh with incredible punishment.  They often fast for dangerous periods of time, expose themselves naked to extreme hot and cold weather, and avoid causing harm to any organism.  They not only don't eat meat and engage in violence, but they often sit immobile for days, and when they walk, do it slowly lest they kill a hapless bug that wanders into their path.  The Jains are an excellent example of the ascetic's attempt to divorce themselves from this world.  There are other aspects to existence that the ascetic attempts to curtail and mortify, but sex, business, and violence are the three big ones.
     As time goes by these ascetics and their teachings matured beyond a complete renunciation of the world and came to a compromise with the demands of the flesh.  This is the point where the fires of self-abnegation are quenched with wisdom that life is the sum of many things, and all these things have a purpose in their right context.  With Christ it was symbolized perfectly by his paying taxes to Caesar.  “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and unto God the things which are God's,” said Jesus.   Likewise, in the Classical world, the Greek and Roman philosophers counseled moderation;  this was eloquently articulated in Aristotles' Nicomachean Ethics.  And after many years of starving himself, looking for Enlightenment, Buddha came to understand the so-called “Middle Way.”
 The story of Buddha's discovery of the Middle Way is a perfect example of an ascetic's reconciliation with the world.  Buddha is sitting on the bank of a river meditating when he sees a fisherman floating by in a boat who is giving lessons to his son on how to handle the fishing-line effectively.  The fisherman says to his son, “If you keep it too tight, the line will break, but if you keep it too loose it will not play.”  At that moment Buddha realizes that pursuing harsh asceticism (“keeping it too tight”) will lead to a collapse of the body without any benefit–that the path he is following is only starving himself to death to no good purpose.  But on the other hand, if one is “too loose” with one's life, following after every whim of desire and instinct, a disciplined life leading to Enlightenment and eventually Nirvana is not possible.  Wisdom is found in between–the Middle Way.  This means controlling and not destroying one's physical desires and instincts, of finding what is useful toward Enlightenment in the world instead of denying all flesh.  This has broad implications:  instead of condemning all sex, finding what is the best situation for sex and marriage for procreation;  instead of avoiding all business, dealing equitably with others;  and instead of condemning all violence, recognizing that there is a need for force to create a just society here on earth.  This hard man had decided to reform the world rather than damn it.
 The Gospels don't give us the same sort of transitional story as Buddha's Middle Way;  however, it's clear from Jesus' teachings that he believed in moderation and not complete condemnation of the world.  In his early days, fasting in the desert, his poverty and celibacy,  and his denunciation of Tyre and Sodom, one sees the ascetic.  But his sermon on the Mount, his teachings on taxation for Caesar, and his preaching to the publicans and sinners, shows a mature message that has set about to reform (“save”) humanity not damn it to hell.  His recognition of the appropriate role that the secular authorities play–“give unto Caesar what is Caesar's”–in the world, is a recognition that there is a time and a purpose for the use of force in organizing society, for the power of the state and its laws rest upon force.  If he was an absolute pacifist, he would not have given the talent to Caesar.
     This recognition of the State was later included in Paul's Epistle to the Romans (Rom. 13), where he wrote that the secular authorities “were ordained by God.”  That the state “beareth not the sword in vain;  for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil ... For this cause pay ye tribute also;  for they are God's ministers, attending continually upon this very thing.”  And ever since, orthodox Christianity has always taught that there is an appropriate use for every purpose in the world, including force;  in time of war, law enforcement, self-defense, the defense of others, and even the overthrow of unjust regimes have always been approved of by Christians under the proper circumstances.  The absolute renunciation of force has never been the traditional view of Christianity, and all pacifist tendencies within Christianity have been based upon a partial reading and interpretation of the scriptures.  If one reads the entire Bible and acquaints himself with traditional Christian and Hebrew practices based upon the scriptures, one is confronted with the wisdom in Ecclesiastes 3 when dealing with most situations in the human experience.
 The wisdom of moderation is perfectly and profoundly expressed in this third chapter of Ecclesiastes.  This chapter explains that life is multifaceted and involves many necessary activities.  The wisdom the Bible is supposed to import is to put these various activities into their proper context.  The rock-and-roll band, The Byrds, wrote a song based upon this verse–“Turn, Turn, Turn.”  However simplistic, I believe it contains the best wisdom found in the Bible:
    To every thing there is a reason and a time to every purpose under the heaven;  a time to be born, and a time to die;  a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which was planted;  a time to kill, and a time to heal;  a time to break down, and a time to build up;  a time to weep, and a time to dance;  a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;  a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;  a time to get, and a time to lose;  a time to keep, and a time to cast away;  a time to rend, and a time to sew;  a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;  a time to love, and a time to hate;  a time of war, and a time of peace.
     Read through with honesty and intelligence, this is what the Bible teaches:  to approach all situations and issues and do the best with what you are given, realizing that there are a “time and a purpose for everything under the heavens.”  The scriptures as an aggregate impart this wisdom all the way through the Old Testament to the teachings of Christ and Paul.  Asceticism is not the basis of Christianity.  It's a tendency within the tradition.
 * * *
     Even though most philosophies and religions do not go as far as the Jains in their asceticism, almost all have these tendencies to self-denial, abstinence, and privations.  It is endemic to these acolytes of the spirit and mind, a symbol of their break with the world.  As a result of this directing away from the temporal concerns of the world, many cultures set aside a certain class, with certain expectations for these seekers.  Usually as a part of this separate vocation, many of the traditional practices of the ascetic are attached to this calling as being symbolic of this segregated elite.  And these practices are recognized by the rest of society as setting this particular class apart.
     In our Western Culture this caste was first represented by the Roman Catholic Priesthood.  The priesthood represented the spiritual-religious aspect to the culture and was clearly differentiated from the secular world, which was represented by the nobility.  From the earliest days they were separated fields of endeavor in the West.  They had well-defined spheres of activity with different objectives;  however, they were not enemies but were meant to be complementary.  After the French Revolution this separation was carried even further, and now there is such a gulf between church and state that reconciliation hardly seems possible.  What originally was a complementary relationship has now become two armed camps.  Originally they were meant to represent the same culture and administer to the two sides of humanity:  the spiritual eternal soul and the temporal historical body.  But just because the priests, for example, personally abstained from violence, didn't signify that those who did use force were doing wrong.  They both recognized a separation of spheres of activity.
     The conscientious objector (CO) of today is similar to the priest of old in that they both personally abstain from violence.  In time of war, COs are made to function in the medical corps and other non-combat related tasks.  But like the priesthood, the CO recognizes the need for the functionaries who do use force in society.  Even though the CO does not engage directly in armed combat, by his participation in the war effort he acknowledges the necessity for war and those who fight it.  If he did not, then he would not participate and support the war effort in any way.  To remain consistent with a complete renunciation of force, he would take the prison sentence and refuse to work toward the war effort at all.  The Western world has found a place for the CO as well as the priest, both of whom cannot bring themselves personally to kill.  Like the CO the priest also acknowledges the necessity of war when he ministers to the soldiers, providing absolution for participation in justified warfare, even though he cannot bring himself to kill personally.  The CO does the same when he tends to the wounded, many of whom will be back at the front fighting because of his care.
     Even though the present interpretation of the separation of church and state is incorrect, there was a definite separation of tasks from the early days in Western history. The church's job was to minister to the individual's spiritual needs in society.  Its concerns were primarily with the individual's relationship to God.  Only secondarily was it interested in the collective operation of society.  The temporal concerns, the execution of the laws, the waging of wars, and the maintenance of the public welfare was the portion of the temporal authorities.  This did not mean that the secular authorities opposed the purposes of the Church to minister to its citizens.  On the contrary, secular rulers tried to work into their laws the absolute truths found in the teachings of the Church.  But where they had to separate was when it came to enforcing the laws and looking out for the self-interest of the nation.
     If self-interest is the basic instinct of all organisms on this planet, including individual humans and groupings of humans, then all political groupings must operate upon this instinct in order to survive.  Because we live in a world encompassing many separate political groups, a collision of interests is inevitable.  All states live in a continual state of readiness for violent conflict with competing states.  Whether the bullets are flying or  not, all states must operate as if they are.  At any moment those states whose interests collide can be at war.  This is the law of the jungle.  Despite the saccharine sweet propaganda coming from the politicians about peace and love, if they are capable leaders, they are more prepared for war than peace.  Consequently, in this world words are weapons, there being no such thing as lies when dealing with potential enemies of your country.
     But the Church is supposed to represent what men ought to be rather than what they are.  The Church teaches the ethic of selflessness, instead of self-interest.  It teaches “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  Human nature, on the other hand, says to do unto others before they get a chance to do to you–look after self before others.  And here is why the Church should not engage directly in politics:  because politics, out of necessity, must engage in “selfish” actions.  Therefore the Church's role should be as a moral cheerleader to the individual and society, but should not betray its principles by having to govern using less than moral means.
     The State on the other hand must in the last analysis govern based first upon expediency, and only secondarily on principle.  But despite the fact that the state is a chain-mailed fist, operating on the instinct of self-preservation, it ought to base its power upon some notion of right and wrong, good and bad, moral and immoral.  Even from the perspective of expediency, moral citizens are obedient to the laws, good taxpayer, and patriotic soldiers.  But if the citizens believe that the laws and power of the state are based solely upon the expediency of naked force, and that the leaders are immoral selfish men, the citizenry will be reluctant taxpayers, indifferent soldiers, and will see the law as naked tyranny.  A government's legitimacy is based upon the habit of obedience, and people will only obey willingly if they believe their government is right, good, and on the whole moral.  No government wants its citizens to obey the laws against murder, rape, robbery, and perjury, solely because they fear the state will retaliate with force.  No, force should be the last resort, reserved for those recalcitrant souls who have defied the publicly accepted moral condemnation of those acts.  The majority should be held in check by the promotion of values which attach immorality to those acts, and cause the individual educated on these values to police their own actions.  If the state is successful in allowing the widespread dissemination of these values, the more likely they will have a law-abiding citizenry.  The place where the state receives this moral backing from is those acolytes of the mind and spirit–from the Church.  The Church's role is to give moral authority to the state and its laws.  Without it, there is nothing but expediency and force.  For thousands of years, the Church placed a policeman in everybody's mind.  Once that role was diminished, such as in present day America, the policeman was removed from the people's minds thus creating the demand for an exponential number of actual policemen on the streets.
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     The Church reformed many abuses within Western Civilization:  business practices, sexual relations, and violence all came in for repair.  The Church had long since come to terms with the necessity for all of these activities within society, but it sought to control them for the good, to bring moderation.  With business practices it sought to curb usury and sharp dealings, always it preached against the “love of money” usurping the duties Christians had toward their fellow man.  Because it is a necessary function in reproducing ourselves, sex was sanctified within the framework of a loving, committed, monogamous marriage.  The turbulent aspects to polygamy were thought to be a divisive factor within the family and it was therefore outlawed.  This ran counter to the natural instincts of humans, for in most societies polygamy is the common practice.  There was wisdom in this break with polygamy, for many of the conflicts that have plagued humanity since the dawn of time have been over women, and then the ever present infighting over power and authority within large extended families.  So even though men had to settle for the affections of one woman, and infidelity would become a common problem in society, overall monogamy was an improvement in human relations, as it brought men and women closer together and lowered the birthrate in society where life expectancy was continually increasing.
 The Church also preached against unrestrained violence.  From the beginning of its ascendancy in Rome with the conversion of Constantine, the Church had to work out a set of rules with respect to the justifiable use of force.  It knew that pacifism was  an unrealistic proposition, so instead of making an enemy of society, it sought to curb the abuses of violence.  It preached against revenge killings, but supported the use of force to defend against unjustified assault, and it approved of the defense of others who were the victims of assault.  This latter was considered the most appropriate use of force in the Christian tradition.  The Christian knight of medieval Europe, coming to the defense of the defenseless, was the archetype of the Church's ideal when it came to the use of force.  The knight errant looking for adventures in the defense of the oppressed was an essential stereotype of the Western world.  The enforcement of the laws is another necessary function that the church has always recognized (Rom. 13).  Obviously  Christians would participate in government service, and would have to make and enforce laws.  The Church saw this, as did Christ (Matt. 22:21) and approved.  Finally, there was the ever present activity of war, and inherent in this idea of warfare was the fact of usurpation (the overthrow of the legally constituted government).  All of these actions have, under the right conditions, always been justified by the Church.  However, no culture anywhere has ever put so many exceptions, restrictions, and restraints upon the use of force than the Western Christian civilization.
     The Church placed many restrictions on the practice of warfare.  First, St. Augustine drew heavily on the Roman notion of justum bellum (just war), as well as references to warfare in the Old Testament, in order to develop his idea of limited warfare.  He provided the basis for the idea of chivalry, and the ideal of the Christian soldier fighting in defense of the innocent.  St. Aquinas later provided three criterions for a just war:  (1) Normally it should be declared by the rightful authority, the king.  (2) The cause must be just.  (3) Those going to war must have rightful intentions-the advancement of good and avoidance of evil.  These conditions were later expanded upon by moral theologians like F. deVitoria (d. 1546).  Even the liberal Vatican II Council offered its case of a just war:  “... [G]overnments cannot be denied the right of lawful self-defense, once all peace efforts have failed ....”
     Western Christianity has brought about major changes in the practices of warfare.  Warfare had always been a bloody affair, usually involving the wholesale use of force against both combatants and noncombatants.  Among the primitives of the jungle and the ancients, the killing of both men-in-arms as well as the civilian population that supported them–women, children, the old–had always been a common practice.  Then in the Middle Ages under the influence of Christianity, the practice called “chivalry” became the expected ideal of the Christian warrior.  Under chivalry only those carrying arms were to be considered legitimate targets.  And once the enemy had been appropriately neutralized–surrendered–humane treatment of the prisoner was expected.   Often if the prisoners were of noble blood, they would be ransomed;  an amount of money was demanded of their family, and when paid, the prisoner was released unharmed.  Good treatment for POWs was expected and received, often the prisoner dined at their captor's table and slept in their bed.  For example, during the Hundred Years' War (1337-1453) this practice was very common.  After the great English victory at Poitiers (1356), the “Black Prince” (son of Edward III of England) captured King John of France and treated him famously until a ransom of three million crowns was paid, then he was released.  Later the practice of prisoner exchanges became common among Christian nations.  Then there were the so-called “Peace of God” and the “Truce of God.”  These were prohibitions enacted by the Church against combat on Sundays and during holidays:  Easter, Christmas, and Lent.  There was even an attempt to outlaw the use of the crossbow in warfare between Christians.  Of course, hatred and avarice have often had the upper hand, and chivalry was not always obeyed when dealing with downed opponents, especially if the enemies were of a different religion or denomination:  The wars against the Muslims were often no-holds-barred, and later during the religious wars between Catholics and Protestants, no quarter fighting was common.  Until the nineteenth century, chivalry had been an unwritten code;  then at the Hague and Geneva Conventions these practices were finally encoded into law.  It was a revolutionary concept to have intentionally agreed upon laws of warfare.  Even though this concept owes a little to the Roman idea of Natural Law, Rome never had anything like the Geneva Convention which is decidedly of Christian origins.
     No other culture has developed anything like the Western world's laws for warfare.  This was one of the major problems America faced during WWII when fighting the Japanese who did not recognize the Geneva Convention, nor did they have any respect for the values which were in back of these laws of warfare.  The Japanese  warrior code of Bushido considered surrender under any circumstances to be dishonorable.  Consequently, the fighting in the Pacific was often to the death, with very, very few Japanese POWs taken.  On the island of Iwo Jima almost all of the 21,000 Japanese troops fought to the bitter end rather than surrender;  many of these chose to jump off cliffs in the final assault, less than a few hundred surrendered, and most of these were wounded.  More than 6,000 Marines died trying to dig these fanatical warriors out of their foxholes with hand grenades and flamethrowers.  Because they believed that surrender was dishonorable, they believed that those who would surrender themselves should be treated like dogs worthy of no respect or humane treatment.  As a consequence of this attitude, the Japanese treatment of Allied POWs was horrendous.  One of the most notorious episodes of the war was one of its earliest.  After Bataan and Corregidor fell to the Japanese early in 1942, many thousands of American and Philippino troops fell into Japanese hands.  These POWs were force-marched up the Bataan peninsula to jungle camps in the Philippine interior.  They marched more than one hundred miles through the jungle heat, the prisoners being given no food or water, and those who fell out due to exhaustion were beaten with clubs or shot.  More than 1,000 were killed on the march, and later, most of these POWs would die in the camps, the victims of brutal conditions forced upon them by their Japanese captors.  Our experience with the Japanese provides an excellent example of how Christianity has affected the practice of warfare in the West.  Of the American, British, and Australian troops who were taken prisoner by the Japanese, almost 40% never came back, all who did reported incredibly brutal treatment.  On the other hand, the Germans, who came from a Christian heritage, and were signatories to the Geneva Convention, treated our POWs with adequate care.  Of the hundreds of thousands of American, British, and Australian POWs, only two percent died during German captivity, a number far lower even than those German troops who died in Allied captivity.  The difference is significant and culturally based.
     Of course, with the war in Iraq we've heard a great deal from the media about how the Koran and Islam condemn the ill-treatment of POWs and is overall much more humane than the “evil” Western civilization.  But this has more to do with the overwhelming hatred that the media has for all things Western (except liberalism), than it does to any objective historical facts.  The beheading of hostages, the mutilation of American soldiers, and the dancing crowds in the streets of most Muslim capitals after 9/11 are incontrovertible proof that the brutal treatment of the weak and vulnerable has always been the rule in Islam.  The sweet, lovely words in the Koran about treating POWs kindly and avoiding civilian causalities during war are something exceptional in Muslim history.  This holds true for conflicts between Muslims as well as wars against the “infidels.”  Long before Muhammad fell into a trance and received his Koranic revelations from Gabriel, the Arab tribes waged tribal war and blood feuds that used collective targeting of the enemy as a tactic.  There were no individuals, only members of the group.  If one member of the tribe was killed by an opposing tribe, revenge was taken against the culpable tribe not the individual who actually did the killing.  Killing any member of the enemy tribe in retaliation would satisfy the need for revenge–whether these victims were men, women, or even children was irrelevant.  The Koran's teachings were never able to change this practice, and the failure of Westerners to understand this is why we are perplexed by the widespread support in the Arab world for such actions as 9/11 or suicide bombers that blow themselves up in crowded discos.  In their world there is no moral stigma attached to the killing of women, children, or the old, as long as they are members of the enemy group.
 Many other forms of behavior have undergone reformation at the hands of Christianity.  In no other culture do you find a battle to end slavery quite like that waged in the Western world.  The spectacle of members of the same culture fighting each other, among other things, over the moral issue of slavery is unheard of in the annals of human history (American Civil war 1861-1865).  Slavery was one of the issues which led to the war.  Six hundred thousand Christian Americans died fighting each other to free Africans from slavery–never been done before.  History is full of examples of a people resisting enslavement, or fighting to liberate themselves from enslavement, but never have members of a free people fought their fellow countrymen to free a culturally alien class of slaves.  Then there are the social justice issues of the 19th and 20th centuries which were largely informed by the Christian doctrine of charity and compassion.  Without Christianity these efforts would have looked completely different.  Much has been said about the influence of the humanistic ideas derived from our Classical tradition (Greece and Rome).  But these influences never played anything like the role Christianity did in producing reform.  Slavery, for example, was deeply embedded in the Classical world (far deeper than it ever was in the Western), and there was never anything like the Western version of Abolitionism.  Classes in Rome and Greece were inherent in their societies despite their pretensions of democracy, and there was nothing resembling true egalitarianism.  And it was only Christianity which brought an end to the horrors of the Coliseum.  The talk about Greco-Roman humanism providing the foundational values of the West, has more to do with the current vogue hatred for all things Christian than it does with objective facts.  These same “progressives” would have been horrified by the sight of the ancient Coliseum, or the slave-market at Ostia; they would bow down (I'm being facetious) and say the Ave Maria if they witnessed the horrors of a triumph, like the one where Vercingorix (46 B.C.) was strangled.
     Sure, Christianity has presided over many of the cruelties that go with human society;  they instituted the Inquisition, they preached the crusade against the Albigensians (1200s), and burned Hus (1415) and Bruno (1600) at the stake.  But the difference is, there has never been a culture that has done so much soul-searching about these things (the modern liberal, wringing his hands about the latest inhumanity, is a product of this ethos).  There has never been the same pursuit of reformatory or social justice measures as there has been under the cross, all of which are derived from the little carpenter's sermon on that hill a couple of thousand years ago and not from the philosophy of Plato or the ruminations of Buddha.
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     There are several verses that pacifists focus on to support their beliefs.  A favorite verse that pacifists love to use when suggesting that Christ was against all forms of physical force, even the use of self-defense, is the famous Matt 26:52:  “Put up again thy sword into its place;  for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.”  Most of the so-called Anabaptist–Amish, Mennonites, Quaker, Shakers–sects rely upon this verse to support their extreme forms of pacifist Christianity.  The modern liberal pacifist also uses this verse whenever he is in a debate against Conservative Christians as to just what Christianity says about the usage of force.  Like most doctrines based upon a portion of the Bible, the interpretation of this verse by the Anabaptist and liberal pacifist is a distortion of its actual meaning.  When placed within the context of the verses coming before and after it, the correct interpretation is clear to any reader.  To go even further, all four Gospel–Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John–should be read together in order to get a well-rounded picture of the events these verses describe.  All of the Gospels tell the same story, some adding details, others subtracting.  Once a person has read all four Gospels in relation to this verse, it's impossible to interpret it as a general condemnation of all forms of violence, as it has been by most pacifists.  On the contrary, this verse has Jesus warning Peter and the disciples to refrain from resistance in this particular situation, but it is not a universal call to pacifism.
     Using all four Gospels (Matt. 26, Mark 14, Luke 22, John 18) will give a correct interpretation.  Jesus' mission is to preach the Gospel to “the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 10).  Once he feels he has initiated this process, he prophesies that he will be betrayed by his own, delivered unto the chief priests, crucified, and then finally resurrected on the third day.  He tries to tell  his disciples this, but they refuse to accept this as his fate (Matt 16:20).  Peter vows that he will never betray his master, and would defend him to the last (Matt. 26:33-35).  But Jesus prophesies that he (Peter) will betray him before the famous “cock crows thrice.”  What Jesus tries unsuccessfully to explain to Peter and the disciples, is that his betrayal and crucifixion are a part of an unchangeable prophecy that included his eventual resurrection and return to earth.  The betrayal and crucifixion are an integral part of the larger prophecy.  His disciples, being ordinary men, are incapable of seeing the future, and are incapable of accepting the necessity of his death,  so it is likely that if attacked they will resist.
     Before this final confrontation, Jesus gathers his disciples together to eat the Passover in what is commonly called the “last Supper.”  He teaches them to remember him through the practice of Communion–the taking of bread and wine as representation of his body and blood.  He then predicts that Judas will betray him, whereupon Judas leaves to fulfill his dismal destiny.  At this point (Luke 22:35-38) Jesus asks the disciples to remember the earlier mission Christ sent them on (Matt. 10:10), where he commanded them not to take “scrip for your journey neither two coats, neither shoes, nor ye staves [weapons]; for the workman is worthy of his meat.”  All of these things were to be provided for them, Jesus said.  He told them the Holy Ghost was to work many miracles on this particular journey, and the normal material considerations that a traveler would need on a journey such as this, would not be necessary.  But now in Luke (22: 35-38), Jesus has different commands for his disciples:
“When I sent you without purse, scrip, and shoes, lacked you anything?  And they said, nothing.  Then he said unto them, but now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip:  and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one.  For I say unto you, that thus that is written must yet be accomplished in me, and he was reckoned among the transgressors:  for the things concerning me have an end.  And they said, Lord, behold, here are two swords.  And he said unto them, it is enough.”

     What he is telling his disciples here is that his time is up, his mission is fulfilled, and unlike the earlier mission in Matt. 10, where Jesus was able to shield his disciples with many protections, now after his crucifixion and return to heaven, the disciples will be required to look after many of the normal worldly things themselves.  The conditions were to change.  Certainly the Holy Ghost is to come, and at times offer protection for Christians (John 16: 7;  Acts 10), but now many of the worldly things will have to be handled by the disciples, and by extension all Christians, themselves.  This includes, as he makes perfectly clear with his instructions to purchase swords, matters of self-defense.  Like the old West circuit-riding preachers who carried a Bible, and a Colt six-gun just in case turning the other cheek was not sufficient, or the Plymouth Pilgrims who prayed piously, but could drill a hostile Indian at one hundred yards with solid shot–just as these future missionaries were going to have to defend themselves in extremis, the disciples are now required to carry swords for self-defense.  These are not “spiritual swords” but are made of actual cold steel as the narrative will soon demonstrate.
 After the Last Supper, and his last instructions to his disciples, Jesus leads them up the Mount of Olives into the Garden of Gesthemane.  It is dark, the disciples are tired, and as Jesus prays his disciples fall asleep.  Jesus prays to his Father in heaven to “take this cup” from him, to halt the prophecy that will end in his brutal crucifixion, for “the Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”  But if it is God's will that he die on the cross, Jesus is willing to accept his fate.  Meanwhile the sleeping disciples are unaware of the inexorable nature of the prophecy, so as they sleep, with the swords that he told them to bring, they have no idea that Jesus' destiny is on the way up the mountain.
     Being led by the traitor Judas, a throng of temple guards sent by the chief priests enters the garden with “swords and staves” ready to take Jesus.  Because it is dark, the guards require that Judas single Jesus out by giving him a greeting kiss, “Judas thou betrayth me with a kiss.”  Meanwhile, the aroused disciples are preparing to fight in defense of their master.  After Judas' kiss, Peter asks, “Lord shall we smite with the sword?  And one of them [Peter] smote the servant of the  high priest, and cut off his ear.”  Then Jesus says, “Suffer ye thus far,” and he heals the servant's ear (Luke 22: 49-51).  Then he tells his disciples to sheath their swords, that there is no use in resisting the will of God:  “Put up again thy sword into its place:  for all that take the sword shall perish with the sword.  Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me twelve legions of angels?  But how shall the scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be.” (Matt. 26: 52-54).  Mark 14 is different, and has Jesus giving no response to Peter's swordsmanship.  It is in John that we learn the identity of the swordsman and his victim (Peter and Malcus).  Then John gives an excellent description of Jesus' response to Peter's actions:  “Put up thy sword into its sheath:  the cup which the Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18: 10-11).  It is essential to follow along with a Bible and you will see exactly what I am getting at.
 The important part to remember when interpreting these verses is the latter portion (John 18: 11;  Matt. 26: 54).  The latter portion gives the reasoning behind Christ's admonition to “put up thy sword”;  that is his capture and crucifixion are a “cup that my Father hath given me,” but if he and Peter resisted, “how shall the scriptures be fulfilled?”  This was a specific command (for Peter to cease resisting his capture), given for this particular circumstance (to keep Peter from interfering in the prophecy and thereby placing himself and the disciples in jeopardy).  This was not a general condemnation of all forms of violence.  Also, how can they say that Jesus was against the use of swords for all circumstances, when it was his suggestion in Luke 22: 36 which caused the swords to be purchased?  How is it that they can claim that he was a pacifist, when here was his chief disciple, the one who was given the “keys to the Kingdom,” running around the countryside with a couple of swords, chopping off ears.  They make Christ confused and fallible;  they suggest that after telling his disciples to buy swords, he later changed his mind and became, within hours, a complete pacifist.  This is nonsense, but because people are not inclined to seek out the facts for themselves, they become susceptible to unscrupulous doctrinaires willing to distort the scriptures toward their own ends.
     The other portion of the Bible that pacifists love to focus on is the Sermon on the Mount.  This was Jesus' first major sermon (Matt. 5, 6, 7).  It focuses mainly upon the Christian's relation to God and to fellow Christians;  it is Christ's extreme expression of the ethos of the Kingdom of Heaven. The sermon gives the ultimate ideals that Christians should try to follow.  But what is not understood is that in many situations it's not possible to follow these ultimate ideals, and Christ certainly didn't mean to suggest that we would be able to obey every jot and tittle.  He knew that in most situations, humans would “fall short of the glory of God.”  If we were angels living in heaven, the Sermon on the Mount would provide the model for how we would behave.  We need to keep this in mind when we read “blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth,” or “whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.”  (Matt. 5: 39).  And then there is the favorite of pacifists:  “Love your enemies, bless them that persecute you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you.”  (Matt. 5: 44).  These were ultimate ideals that Christians should work towards.  Jesus knew quite well that total obedience to these ideals on this earth was impossible, and he instead offered them as goals for Christians to aspire toward, knowing full well that it would be impossible to fulfill them completely.
     The Sermon on the Mount ethic is the same one as found in the Old Testament, and doesn't constitute a radical break with the Law and the Prophets as many “New Testament only Christians” like to suggest:  Isaiah and Hosea sermonized about the mistreatment of the weak and the poor;  Jeremiah railed against the sins of Israel;  and Elijah condemned the sinful Ahab and his heathen wife Jezebel, calling fire down from heaven to prove his point.  Like the prophets before him, Christ preached the ideals for which all believers should strive.
     The fact is that the meek have never ruled this earth, the last have never been first, and until Christ returns, they never will.  Aggressive, ambitious humans have always ruled this world, and if one wants this worldly rule to look anything like the ethical picture painted in the Sermon on the Mount, then aggressive Christian believers will have to secure that rule in the face of aggressive nonbelievers.  Furthermore, there has never been a society of laws on this planet that has been capable of operating on the principle of absolute forgiveness for all aggressive violent assaults, as suggested in the “turn the other cheek” scenario.  Organized society, whether Christian or other, would be impossible without the principle of retaliation, punishment, and self-defense in answer to unprovoked aggression and criminal actions.  And in this world “loving your enemies” is just fine, as long as you realize that they are still enemies until such time as their ability to damage or threaten your interests or power is neutralized.  These are the facts.  How close one comes to fulfilling the ideals found in Christ's Sermon on the Mount, while living in this world of facts, is the true measure of a person's Christian faith.  It's an aspiration, not an expectation.  That's what the Sermon on the Mount is about.  It is quite clear Christ understood the limitations that the facts of life place upon the aspirations of faith, for we have just examined how Christ himself counseled his disciples to arm themselves against the violent eventualities that may occur if turning the other cheek is not sufficient.  Likewise, his rendering unto Caesar demonstrated his understanding and support for the necessary functions that the rulers of the sword play in this world.
     Another verse pacifists use is Exodus 20:13, the Fifth Commandment–“Thou shalt not kill.”  The pacifist takes this commandment as a blanket prohibition against the taking of all life.  Not only is it a mistranslation, it is completely out of context with the rest of the scriptures.  This is especially true given the fact that the man who copied these laws down, Moses, was a great warrior and leader who killed many men, and issued laws which demanded the death penalty for a whole host of offenses, including the Fifth Commandment-“He that smiteth a man so that he die, shall surely be put to death”  (Ex. 21: 12).  This verse comes just one chapter away from the Ten Commandments, and is sandwiched in between a list of other offenses that Moses is demanding the death penalty for.  On down a little further, Moses gives his famous formula:  “Eye for an eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot” (Ex. 21: 24).  It is ludicrous to suggest that the man who wrote a blanket commandment against the taking of all life would turn right around and write the exact opposite.  So what gives?
     The fact is that Ex. 20: 13 S  “Thou shalt not kill” S is an incorrect translation.  The original Hebrew would more appropriately be translated as “Thou shalt do no murder.”  The difference between the two is great, the former seemingly a pacifist condemnation of all forms of violence, the latter implying a differentiation between justifiable homicide and murder.   The derivation of this discrepancy is based on a mistranslation of the Hebrew original into the English King James Bible back in the early 1600s.  In the original Hebrew, the word for “kill” where it appears in Ex. 20: 13, actually carried the connotation of unjustifiable homicide.  The correct meaning  for this commandment can be found in Matthew, where Jesus himself gives his rendition of five of the Ten Commandments.
 In Matthew 19: 16-24, Jesus is questioned by a young rich man about how one is to acquire “eternal life.”  Jesus responds, “If you want to enter into eternal life:  keep the commandments,” meaning the core of the Law found in Ex. 20.  Jesus then enumerates the last five commandments for the young man:  “Thou shalt do no murder, Thou shalt not bear false witness ... Honor thy father and thy mother ....”  The meaning is quite clear, but despite these facts the pacifists continue to use the mistranslation found in the Old Testament to push their agenda.  This is a perfect example of people believing what they want to believe, a demonstration that beliefs have always been stronger than facts in the course of history.
     Obviously there are grey areas between murder and justifiable homicide.  A good example is Moses' call to execute tardy churchgoers (Ex 31: 12-13).  Certainly, today we would take issue with these types of killings, even though God approved of them then.  But in most cases the difference is obvious.  The defense of his abused countryman by Moses (Ex. 2: 11-15), and the killing of Goliath by David (I Sam. 17), were clearly cases of justifiable homicide:  the defense of others in one case, and the defense of the country in the other.
 This argument about Jesus' consistency with regard to Peter's sword handling lies at the heart of the issue.  The pacifist Christian now argues that the Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5, 6, 7), the loving, compassionate God is the only God they recognize in the Bible.  They say the “God of war” found in the Old Testament who destroyed the Egyptians (Exodus 15: 3), that praised David's military prowess–this God was an atavistic projection of an “unevolved” “primitive” people, not deserving of worship or obedience.  This Christianity's Bible has become a sort of cafeteria, where the “modern,” “evolved” Christian picks and chooses what he likes best, and leaves the rest like unwanted chopped-liver.  But if the Bible and Christ are to be taken seriously, some consistency must be found between the God of Exodus and the God of Matthew or else the whole is merely a collection of ancient fairytales, myths, and the ruminations of holy men, but there certainly can't be a consistent God in back of the scriptures.
     Orthodox theologians thus needed a consistent, Omnipotent God.  This  means that God is consistent in all of his actions (Hebrews 13: 8), even though to the human eye inconsistencies are seen:  the God of Matthew's Sermon on the Mount had to be  the Deity that destroyed Pharaoh's army and commanded the Israelites to conquer the land of Canaan.  Without this consistency, Christ's claim to divinity is naught, he becomes a mere holy man, an historic figure.  This is what he claimed at his trial (Mark 14: 61-62);  his claim to divinity was the reason why he was convicted of blasphemy.  John 1: 1-3 tells us that Jesus was the God who created the world:  “All things were made by him, without him was not anything made that was made.”  And this was the meaning in John 8, where in verse 58 he claims that “before Abraham was, I am.”  Also, in John 10: 30 he states quite frankly, “I and my Father are one.”  Without getting into a Christological debate about the Trinity, or what exactly Christ meant by being “one” with his Father, it is a fact that most Christians have accepted Christ's divinity and his identity as the Father of the Old Testament come in the flesh, the Trinity doctrine.  All of these orthodox doctrines have come under assault by the new theology, but despite this “higher criticism,” for thousands of years the accepted doctrine has been the Trinity–that God is three in one, one in three, Father, Son and Holy Ghost.  Everything about this God, the doctrine says, was consistent, meaning He was not changeable and evolving over time but consistent throughout.  Arguing from this foundation, let us take a look at this consistent God as He travels through the Old and New Testaments' revelations, and see what exactly He has to say or do when it comes to the use of force.
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     During the history of Israel many wars were fought, first in order to conquer the nations occupying “the land of milk and  honey,” and then to defend it.  A good portion of the Bible is devoted to historical narrative, and these wars play a major part in the story–a part in the fulfillment of the promise.  And what was this promise?  It was that God would make of Israel a great nation, its people would number as the “sands of the sea.”  He would take this nomadic people, who would first be enslaved in Egypt, and make them a powerful nation.  And how was this to be accomplished?  First He had to give them land to erect this nation upon.  Well it just so happened that the “land of milk and honey” God had promised to the nomadic Israelites was already inhabited by several nations:  Moabites, Canaanites, Philistines, Midianites, Amelikites, and Hittites.  The way that God encouraged them to “come into the promised land” was through naked conquest:
“And the Lord spoke unto Moses in the plain of Moab by Jordan near Jericho, saying, Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto them, When ye are passed over Jericho into the land of Canaan, Then ye shall drive out all of the inhabitants of the land before you and destroy them . . . And ye shall dispossess the inhabitants of the land, and dwell therein:  for I have given you the land to possess it.”
 

But Yahweh gives them a warning if they do not comply:

“But if ye will not drive out the inhabitants of the land from before you;  then it shall come to pass, that those which ye let remain of them shall be a prick in your eyes, and thorns in your sides . . . Moreover it shall come to pass, that I shall do unto you as I thought to do unto them.”

(Num. 33: 55-56).
     Not only were they to dispossess them of their traditional homes, they were to completely remove them from the land, or if they did not, Yahweh knew that the Israelites would have ongoing problems with these non-Israelite people, and especially their heathen gods Baal, Moloch and Asherah.  As it turned out, Israel did not obey this latter part of the commandment, and thus had to contend for the next few hundred years with the infighting between the worshipers of Yahweh and those remaining Canaanites, Moabites, and Midianites, who worshiped foreign gods, drawing many of the Israelites a “whoring after their strange gods.”  Deuteronomy 20 gives a more extensive set of instructions as to how God wants His people to wage war against the nations.  In verses 16, 17, and 18, He gives the same admonitions to the Israelites about assimilating or excluding the foreign peoples and their gods.
     However, before Israel can come into the Promised Land, they had to first be released from slavery in Egypt.  And here, a dynamic Yahweh, the God of war, makes a dramatic entry in Exodus as He takes His people out of the clutches of Pharaoh.  Pharaoh refuses to listen to Moses' demands to release his people, so Yahweh brings plagues upon Egypt, forcing Pharaoh to finally relent.  However, after setting the Israelites free, Pharaoh organizes an army to hunt down the freed Israelite slaves and kill them all.  In the meantime, the Israelites cross the Red Sea, which has been miraculously parted by Yahweh.  And as they stand on the east bank, Pharaoh's army gathers on the western side of the sea and prepares to cross through the parted way.  Fear and doubt grips the defenseless Israelites as they stand watching their potential demise.  Moses says, “Fear you not, stand still and see the salvation of the Lord.”  (Ex. 14: 13).  And as Pharaoh's army is crossing, God causes the waters to collapse upon the hapless soldiery, drowning the entire army.  In celebration of their deliverance, the Israelites sing the Song of Moses, praising God's greatness, saying of Him, “The Lord is a man of war:  Yahweh is His name.”  (Ex. 15: 3).
     God continues to support His people as they conquered their Promised Land.  Before crossing the river Jordan into the Promised Land, Israel fights a bloody take-no-prisoners war with the Midianites.  God commands them to “avenge the children of Israel upon the Midianites,” and they “slew all of the males,” taking the “women and children alive for themselves”  (Numbers 31).  Moses then dies leaving the great warrior Joshua to lead his people over the Jordan river.  The first conquest is the famous siege of Jericho, where only the family of Rahab the harlot is saved.  She is spared because of her help in secreting the spies of Israel, who came to reconnoiter the city before the assault (Joshua 6).
 Thereafter the tide of the Israelites rolls on, unstoppable.  They crush the kings of Canaan, and take possession of their lands.  (Joshua 12).  After this initial series of victories, they settle in and survive over the next decades fighting under what they call “Judges.”  These are chieftains, clan-leaders, great warriors.  There are Gideon, Barak, Deborah, and Ehud.  The Israelites do not exactly drive out the warrior tribes living in the region (contrary to God's command), and as a result, they are one of the many groups in this area, contending for territory.  Later Israel unites under a king, Saul, which centralizes their power, thus giving them the power necessary to carve out a significant kingdom.  (The kings Saul, David, and Solomon are the first leaders of Israel that are called the “anointed ones,” which in Hebrew is “Messiah.”  Later, after the destruction of Israel's kingdom, the Jews wished for a return of the anointed ones;  i.e., the return of the Messiah.)  We're all familiar with David's famous rise to prominence:  he kills Goliath the Philistine, saying theatrically to Goliath, “This day will the Lord deliver you into my hand:  and I will smite thee, and take your head from you.”  (I Sam. 17: 46).  This is not symbolic language;  this is an actual duel.  And David wins it by sinking a rock into Goliath's head.  Then he stands atop the prostrate giant, and using Goliath's own sword, removes his head, taking it back to Jerusalem as a trophy.  David then wages a little civil war with Saul, who is jealous of David's fame.  Saul later dies fighting the Philistines, thus ushering in the greatest episode in Israel's history.
     No other figure is more revered in the scriptures than David.  He was a man “after God's own heart,” the man who killed Goliath, who raised Israel from a minor power, to being one of the greatest empires in the ancient world.  He was a warrior, statesman, poet, lover, and a deeply pious man.  He was the hero of the Hebrews, the man all Israelites, religious or secular, would point to as an all-around Godly man.  This was why Jesus referred to himself as the “son of David,” meaning the character of David was something Jesus would like people to see in  himself.  Jesus saw himself as fulfilling Israelite's yearnings for the return of the Messiah, the anointed one, David.  And essential to David's life was his calling to be king and leader of Israel's armies.  From the slaying of Goliath, to his death, David was continually engaged in war after war;  first he fought to expand his empire, and then to defend it.  In all of this fighting, God was with him, having given him strength and battlefield prowess:  “Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight.”  (Psalms 144: 1).  And after his victories, David gave the credit to God:  “Thou hast given me the necks of mine enemies:  that I might destroy them that hate me”  (Psalms 18: 20).  God watched over His servant, David, in peace, and in war.  Even though David's life as a warrior-king was a necessary facet to  his life, the reason why God loved him, and the Hebrews revered him as a great hero of their people, was that he was a sincere follower of God's Laws.  He followed God's laws, putting them into his own heart, correcting himself when his mistakes and his human nature got in the way of this quest to please God.  Translated into David's particular calling, he