An Exchange on Pacifism
Yoder: I would like to think that I am a “pure pacifist”, in that I do not feel that I personally could or should myself use violence against anyone, friend or “foe”. (That’s not an absolute guarantee that I would not, of course, since I am obviously a fallen being myself who cannot predict exactly how I would react in all circumstances) I take the NT literally when Jesus asks his disciples to love their enemies, turn the other cheek, etc. My reading of scripture is that we are called to adopt that standard now, even though the Kingdom is not yet present in its fullness, rather than waiting to the latter to happen before we feel called to the former, as the dispensationalists might argue.
Wacome: Mike, thanks for your thoughtful response and the opportunity to try further to articulate and defend my views.
I agree that this is the standard we are called to adopt now. But why think Jesus intends these words to constrain the activities of governments? Aren’t there lots of things Jesus commands his disciples that aren’t plausibly taken as prescriptions directed to secular nation states? Jesus’ words about giving your coat to one who takes your shirt don’t imply that governments should refrain from interfering with, and in fact aid, thieves and robbers. So why think the “turn the other cheek” admonition applies in this political context?
The implicit assumption that the
Jesus tells Mike Yoder and Don Wacome to turn the other cheek, not to resist evil with evil; he doesn’t tell the
Yoder: However, I respectfully take issue with your characterization of pure pacifism as being inherently anarchistic. No Anabaptist pacifist I know denies the legitimate police function of the state within the nation-state itself. To do so would be to deny Romans 13. The way that Anabaptism has historically dealt with what to outsiders may seem like an inconsistency and/or a double standard is to recognize that “the world” (including government) is not called to the same level of ethical standards as are the true disciples of Christ in a “pure” church (“pure” not because of any inherent goodness on the part of members, but rather only pure to the extent that we are transformed from our inherently sinful human tendencies—including the tendency to strike back at those that strike us—by the sanctifying grace and redemption of Christ). So I see a legitimate (limited) use of force to maintain order and restrain evil in society. I would prefer that the use of that force be kept as minimal as possible, for example, by police refraining from lethal violence and capital punishment against criminals and suspected criminals, opting perhaps for darting fleeing criminal suspects with tranquilizers, much as animals are darted before being moved for their own good by environmentalists. In extreme cases, I could see police shooting persons in the legs or arms to prevent them from firing shots at others, but I could never approve of police shooting to kill. Does that make me an anarchist? I don’t think so. And I would not be so realistic to argue that we could get along without prisons, although I do argue that we use imprisonment far too often in our own society and often in an arbitrary manner biased by race, social class, etc.
Wacome: I don’t see how the claim that Christians are called to a “higher ethical standard” removes the inconsistency. The Anabaptist could consistently claim that this standard applies to him, and that he is required to refrain from violence against both foreign Hitlers and domestic muggers, while denying that it applies to government policies. Or he could claim it applies to government polices too, and accept the anarchist implications. But when he says that the alleged higher standard applies to a government’s foreign policy, but not to its domestic policies, therein lies the prima facie incoherence.
But I don’t share your underlying view that a Christian is, or ought to be, morally superior to other persons: that we are called to a higher ethical standard. Morality’s basic demands are universal. Christian faith has practical implications—what it makes sense to do in light of the Gospel—and these might, on occasion, involve morally supererogatory actions—maybe turning the other cheek is an example—but aren’t they generally either morally obligatory for everyone, Christian or not, or (when unique to Christian practice) morally indifferent?
Does Jesus admonish us not to resort to violent force even when doing so is necessary to save an innocent third party from grievous harm? I see no reason to think so. It’s one thing to turn your other cheek, quite another to stand by when someone is slapping a child around. If this is what Jesus’ commands, then he’s plainly telling us to do what’s morally wrong, not calling us to a higher moral standard. I have no a priori objection to the possibility of the Christian being called to do what’s morally wrong, but I do object to calling it morally right, let alone better. And I think the burden of proof falls to anyone who claims that morally wrong conduct actually accords with the Gospel.
Yoder: I would point out that I see no scriptural mandate for one earthly nation or kingdom, whether the Roman one of Christ’s time or the American empire currently trying to dominate the world, to “police” the entire globe or even a major region or continent. (Even though I grant that historically the “Pax Romana” may have been an improvement over what preceded it and succeeded it in the Roman world) It is up to whatever nation(s) rule in those parts of the world to police their own peoples, hopefully in a just way. I see no scriptural mandate for armed revolution, even against a tyrannical government. Thus I hope, had I been alive at the time of the American revolution, that I would not have joined or supported it. As a modern American, I am rather enamored of representative democracy, but I see no scriptural promise of that system of government. I find it both amusing and tragic that so many American “conservatives” fall into the trap of American civil religion, believing that somehow the U.S. as a “Christian” nation (the “new Israel”) is commissioned to work God’s will in the world. That’s why I find the support of the Christian right for the war in
Wacome: It’s morally required that we employ the minimum degree of violence necessary to interdict violent evildoers, and thus that whenever possible we should use means that are not potentially lethal. (Capital punishment for this reason is morally wrong, since we can only execute someone we have already rendered harmless.) But no government can exist without the at least implicit appeal to the threat of decisive force, and with current technology, that means force that is potentially lethal. This is obvious if for no other reason than that criminals are themselves sometimes equipped with the means to inflict death and will do so, unless they are stopped. Ultimately, if the government doesn’t have the means to kill and threaten to use it, those who do will become the de facto government. A morally decent civilization depends upon the willingness of good persons to use violence, because there are evil persons who will if they don’t.
If a gang of sociopaths takes over a house on
The idea of a “Christian nation” is, I agree, absurd. However, no conclusion about moral equivalence follows from this. Some schemes of social organization (e.g. capitalism, and when it’s properly constitutionally constrained, representative democracy) clearly are morally superior to others. Historically, all nation states, including the
However, I find it hard to resist the conclusion that, even though the Scriptures endorse no particular form of government or social organization, some cohere better with the Christian faith than others. For some respect and care for the human individual better than others and are for that reason more consonant with what God cares about than others. Here it seems to me that to a first approximation what’s to be preferred morally is also to be preferred from the perspective of Christian faith. Whether any Christian might be called to act on that preference in a particular way is, of course, a further issue.
I admit to being appalled at the idea that, e.g.
I take the Christian Right’s reasons for supporting the war in Iraq to be as ill-conceived as the Left’s—and the Christian Left’s—reasons for opposing it, and that the unsavory spectacle of the former does nothing to justify the latter.