The title of this post is taken from a book by the same
name, written by C. John Caddoux, and originally published in London in
1919. It has been reprinted by Vance Publications in 2005, and
can be found here.
Note the time and place of the original publishing of the
book. This was just at the conclusion of
the Great War, in the capitol of one of the belligerents. Certainly much of the work done by Caddoux
was accomplished during this war, a war of most unspeakable destruction. He was writing at a time when nominally
Christian people were killing other nominally Christian people by the millions.
As I have done with other books, I intend to write several
posts on this topic as I read through the book.
I begin with a quote from the Foreword, written be W.E.
Orchard:
… [war] is a subject that will not
cease to vex the Church until we have decided either to make as unequivocal a
condemnation of war as we have of slavery, or to abandon altogether any
profession of whole-hearted allegiance to the Christian faith.
It is impossible to reconcile the teachings of Jesus with
the attitude many Christians display towards war and the state. Laurence Vance provides the most thorough
commentary on this prevailing attitude, for example see here and here. Vance is also behind the reprinting of this
subject volume. The work by Caddoux is
the most thorough examination of the views on war of the early Christians –
those who most closely knew the teaching of Jesus and his disciples.
Among the many problems of
Christian ethics, the most urgent and challenging at the present day is
undoubtedly that of the Christian attitude to war….everywhere by overwhelming
majorities Christian people have pronounced in word and act the same decision,
viz. that to fight, to shed blood, to kill – provided it be done in the defence
of one’s country or of the weak, for the sanctity of treaties or for the
maintenance of international righteousness – is at once the Christian’s duty
and his privilege. But only by an act of
self-deception could anyone persuade himself that this is the last word the
Christian conscience has to say on the matter.
Caddoux recognizes the potential shortcomings of the views
of those in the first centuries of the church, describing the Christian mind as
“relatively immature” and still in “the simplicity of its childhood.” Yet, he finds the enormous accomplishments of
the church during this time more than enough to counter these shortcomings:
…the first three centuries were the
period in which the work of the Church in morally and spiritually regenerating
human life was done with an energy and a success that have never since been
equaled, when the power springing from her Founder’s personal life pulsated
with more vigor and intensity than was possible at a greater distance…
He begins his study of this early Christian period with an
examination of the teachings of Jesus:
There is a sense in which it is
true to say that Jesus gave his disciples no explicit teaching on the subject
of war.
Caddoux goes on to explain that this should not be
surprising, and such an ‘omission’ is not unique. For example, there was no record of any event
which might afford Jesus to speak out regarding slavery. Jesus had little if any cause to speak directly
about military service and war. He was
living and working and teaching among Palestinian Jews, a population virtually
unrepresented in the Roman military. No Jew
could be compelled to military service.
Caddoux cites the many passages where Jesus speaks in terms
of non-violence and even passivity.
Jesus reaffirmed the commandment to not kill, for example. His Sermon on the Mount offered
non-resistance as good and right. Most
compelling, Jesus did not use or advocate political or coercive means to
achieve His ideals:
In the one corner of the Roman
world where the passion for an independent national state still survived, he
had no use for that passion.
That force could be applied through political means did not
sanitize the use of force for Jesus. He found
His calling through teaching.
Was not Jesus tempted by Satan – in fact, offered the whole
world? Caddoux suggests that the only
way this could have been achieved was through military violence:
…was he not in any case invested by
God with supreme authority over men, and was it not his life’s work to bring in
the Kingdom as speedily as possible? Assuming
that the use of military force did not appear to him to be in itself illegitimate,
why should he not have used it? Had he
not the most righteous of causes? Would not
the enterprise have proved in his hands a complete success? Would he not have ruled the world much better
than Tiberius was doing?