Loading...As you may know, Platinum level members of the blog are allowed to make guest posts to their fellow Platinum members, and periodically they vote on one to be posted for all blog members. Here is the most recent winning post, by Dan Kohanski. (You may want to check out the benefits that accrue to the different levels of membership, and consider moving to a different level! Just go here: Register – The Bart Ehrman Blog )!
In this post Dan treats a perennially important topic: how ancient people (including biblical authors) understood the legitimacy of war, particularly in light of their specific historical and cultural contexts. What could be of more on-going relevance?
Dan will be happy to address questions and comments.
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The history of how religions approach war is evidence that theology is a product of reaction to events rather than the application of eternal and unchanging laws. Look at the ancient Israelites, who lived in a period of endemic local wars, in which one petty kingdom after another (including those of the Israelites) made frequent attacks on their neighbors for territorial and monetary gain. Canaan was also the land bridge between Egypt and the empires of Mesopotamia. When those giants went to war, lesser nations such as Israel and Judah often became collateral damage. Small wonder, then, that the Hebrew Scripture assumes the legitimacy of war and dwells extensively on the rules for conducting one.
The earliest Christians, however, lived under the harsh but effective Pax Romana, the Roman peace. While first-century Judaea was often a violent place, it was the violence of rebels and bandits, rarely the clash of armies. Roman legions, brutal as they were, made travel reasonably safe, provided good communications, and ensured that no outside forces would trouble the peaceful life of imperial subjects and citizens. Jesus could therefore preach a pacifist attitude. “Do not resist an evildoer,” said Jesus. “If anyone strikes you on the cheek, turn the other also” (Matt. 5:39–40). Later in Matthew, Jesus warns that “all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matt. 26:52). Revelation describes a clash of supernatural forces, the embodiments of good and evil, but promises that the faithful in Jesus will be rescued before the battle begins. “I will keep you from the hour of trial that is coming” is the reassurance to be given to the church in Philadelphia (Rev. 3:10). True Christians would be passive spectators in the great cosmic battle, much as the righteous were in the book of Daniel (Dan. 12:1).
The Pax Romana made such a position feasible. In addition to that, I suggest that pacifism was a reasonable position for early Christians to take, given that they believed the world as it then existed was about to end at any moment, rendering earthly conflicts meaningless. And Christians read the Scriptural injunction “Thou shalt not kill” to mean an absolute prohibition on taking human life, even in self-defense. Over the next two centuries, Church fathers would cite this injunction when insisting that Christians could not serve in the Roman army, certainly not in combat roles.[1] Although some historians have argued that the military’s use of what Christians saw as idolatry was why they avoided army service, this appears to have been a secondary reason.[2]
As might be expected, others in the empire resented what they saw as a dereliction of duty on the Christians’ part. The third-century theologian Origen had an answer to “those enemies of our faith who require us to bear arms for the commonwealth, and to slay men.” Origen argued that “none fight better for the king than we do. We do not indeed fight under him, although he require it; but we fight on his behalf, forming a special army—an army of piety—by offering our prayers to God” (Origen, Against Celsus 8.73).
Yet in spite of this theological insistence on pacifism, increasing numbers of Christians did join the Roman army, especially the eastern army, in the third and fourth centuries, though hard numbers are difficult to come by.[3] Then, in 312 CE, Emperor Constantine won the Battle of Milvian Bridge after ordering his soldiers to paint a Christian symbol on their shields. The following year, he made Christianity a licit religion, and in 380 Theodosius I made Christianity the official religion of the empire. By the early fifth century, anyone who was not a Christian was barred from military service. The defense of the empire was now in the hands of a Christian emperor leading an army of Christians; pacifism was no longer a practical option. Christianity needed a new theology of war.
Roman philosophers as far back as Cicero (106–43 BCE) had been exploring the question of what constitutes a just war. In the years after 380 CE, Bishop Ambrose of Milan relied heavily on Cicero in particular in his search for a way to allow Christians to kill their enemies in battle.[4] By 420 or so, Ambrose’s protégé, Bishop Augustine of Hippo, had expanded his mentor’s work into a theology of just war that would guide the Church for the next several hundred years.
The two bishops insisted that a just war must be defensive, with mercy for the defeated, and that the true evils in war were “the desire to do harm, cruelty in taking vengeance . . . the lust for domination” (Augustine, Against Faustus 22:74). One must not, in other words, wage war with passion, but instead with love, and it must be waged only “at the command of God, or of some legitimate authority” because sometimes war is necessary “so as to preserve the order of civil peace” (22:74, 75). A just war, in short, was a necessary evil undertaken to maintain or restore moral order in the world. Augustine even turned Jesus’s admonition not to resist an evildoer into permission to use violence if one had the proper mindset. Jesus had said this, Augustine argued, “to prevent us from taking pleasure in revenge, in which the mind is gratified by the sufferings of others, but not to make us neglect the duty of restraining men from sin” (Augustine, Epistle 47.5).[5]
But Augustine also had to come to grips with Biblical wars such as Joshua’s conquest of Canaan, which was anything but defensive, anything but limited, and which was waged with great passion. He found himself having to admit that such a war, even to annihilation, might still be justifiable. “By reason of the fact that God had commanded this, it must certainly not be considered cruelty that Joshua left no living thing in the cities that were handed over to him” (Augustine, Questions on the Heptateuch 6.10). In discussing this passage, Christian Hofreiter observes that “for Augustine, the justice of God is axiomatic; it is something he argues from rather than for” Therefore, “Augustine’s reading of the ḥerem [destruction] commands, his commitment to divine command theory, and his emphasis on human obedience lead him to chastise the Israelites in several places for not totally annihilating the Canaanites. In none of these instances does he consider the morality of the command itself.”[6]
In my view, neither Augustine nor anyone else has ever completely succeeded in theologically reconciling God’s exhortation to war in the Old Testament with God’s prohibition of war in the New. (Think of the controversies over Quaker and Mennonite insistence on nonviolence and the troubles that conscientious objectors face.) The historian’s explanation that these theologies were each responses to conditions of their time is not one that a theologian may be comfortable with. But it is the one that fits.
[1] There is some disagreement among scholars over the extent of early theological opposition to war. See Simpson, Gary M., “”Thou Shalt Not Kill”–The First Commandment of the Just War Tradition,” Faculty Publications (2004), (https://digitalcommons.luthersem.edu/faculty_articles/297), 250n4.
[2] In De Corona X, Tertullian discusses the problem of idol-worship in the army, but in the next chapter he cites Matt. 26:52 as the main reason why no warfare is proper for Christians. See Bainton, Roland H., “The Early Church and War,” The Harvard Theological Review Vol. 39, No. 3 (Jul., 1946), 189-212 (https://www.jstor.org/stable/1508114) 192; 200-01.
[3] See, generally, Bainton; see Blin, Arnaud, War and Religion: Europe and the Mediterranean from the First through the Twenty–first Centuries. Oakland, CA: University of California Press, (2019), 43.
[4] See Blin (63-67); see Swift, Louis J., “St. Ambrose on Violence and War.” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 101 (1970): 533–43 (https://doi.org/10.2307/2936070).
[5] See Swift (1970, 541 and 541n24).
[6] Hofreiter, Christian, Making Sense of Old Testament Genocide: Christian Interpretations of Herem Passages. Oxford UK: Oxford University Press (2018), 115 [emphasis in original]; 116.
I see these as moving parts. First, a literal read of the Hebrew Bible. Second, the interpretation of the HB via centuries of sages of Rabbinic Judaism and what the HB means for Jewish life. Third, what Christians think it means for Christianity. That’s been all over the map, including the idea that the HB and NT Gods are different, so that’s why the answers seem different.
I think it’s up to all of us ( who are spiritually somewhere on the Judaeo-Christian spectrum) to read the words and listen to the commentaries and talk with others to come up with our own positions. What is wisdom of the ages, and what is specific to a time and place? That’s what encountering scripture involves. IMHO.
Excellent post. “In my view, neither Augustine nor anyone else has ever completely succeeded in theologically reconciling God’s exhortation to war in the Old Testament…” To paraphrase a comment I saw on Facebook recently: God never commanded anyone to wage war, but people waged war in the name of God. That is my solution: just because your leader claims that God wants you to kill someone doesn’t mean that God actually wants you to kill someone. Frankly, God can do His own killing; he doesn’t need me to do it for Him, and if He does insist on me doing His killing for Him, then I choose not to obey and worship such a god.
Very interesting, thanks.
What about the First Revolt? Jewish Christian sectarians cannot have endeared themselves to their fellow Jews if they refused to participate in the the uprising. I suspect we don’t have much to go on but what do we know?
As far as I know, we have no information about what Jewish Christians living in Jerusalem did during the 66-73 revolt. There is a story circulated later that the Jesus followers in Jerusalem escaped over the Jordan, but this has been dismissed as a tall tale. Not everyone trapped in Jerusalem was necessarily expected to fight, but all were expected to provide some kind of support, and anyone trying to escape would be killed by the Zealots – and if they did get out, the Romans would catch them and crucify them in sight of the city. By far the most likely scenario is that the Jesus followers in Jerusalem were massacred with everyone else in 70.
Outside Jerusalem, the situation is even more murky, and of course outside Judaea and Galilee there was no fighting.
I think it’s fair to say that the early Christians weren’t opposed to violence. They just thought that God would destroy their enemies on their behalf. God doesn’t “prohibit” war in the New Testament, only human involvement. By the Middle Ages, Christians, like the Israelites before them, were told that they had a God-ordained duty to war against non-believers. Apparently, God changed his mind; he wasn’t going to fight their battles after all. They would have to fight them themselves.
Hi Dan Kohanski,
Thank you for your post.
I want to focus on your following statement: “In my view, neither Augustine nor anyone else has ever completely succeeded in theologically reconciling God’s exhortation to war in the Old Testament with God’s prohibition of war in the New.”‘
First, I agree that a literal interpretation of divine commands of war in the Old Testament is horrifying and irreconcilable with the New Testament.
Second, the genres of the Old Testament do not indicate a literal interpretation of history or modern standards of history,
Third, I appreciate various scholarship that indicates allegory in the Old Testament accounts of war (e.g., Jerome Creach, 2013, Violence in Scripture).
Fourth, the New Testament commends various centurions (Matthew 8:5-13, Luke 7:1-6, Acts 10), which I suppose indicates that Christians in some cases may work in law enforcement or the military.
Do you disagree with any of my above statements?
Best,
James
Even without reading the texts literally, I think it clear that the OT makes allowance for war and that Jesus in the NT is against war and violence (with a couple of ambiguous exceptions). This is only one of many conundrums that confront those who insist the OT and the NT are in sync, or are both divinely dictated or inspired. That’s why I said I don’t think Augustine succeeded in theologically reconciling the two. Historically, of course, there is no need to reconcile them.
I don’t think I know Creach’s work, so I’ll just say that while certain of the more difficult war stories in the OT can be read allegorically or mythologically (Joshua’s Conquest is a myth). But there are too many battle stories in Judges and Kings, some the Israelites won and some they lost, and these read as history (perhaps embellished).
Hi Dan,
Remember that when you compare Joshua with Judges and Kings, then remember that the D compiler produced the Deuteronomistic history, that is, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, 1 Samuel, 2, Samuel, 1 Kings, and 2 Kings.
Also, I appreciate how Creach, 2013, “Violence in Scripture” analyzed the imagery of the Amalekites in Numbers, Judges, 1 Samuel, and 2 Samuel.
Well, that is one theory. Another argument, very common, is that Joshua should be grouped with the Pentateuch (and thereafter to be called the Hexateuch), separately from the others (though there is also the Heptateuch, which groups Judges in as well). In general, I give somewhat more historical credibility to Judges, Samuel, and Kings, though here too one has to be skeptical. I find nothing historical in Joshua.
I want to take a little more space to rely to your fourth point.
My offhand thought (which means I haven’t looked into it) about the centurions is that the specific persons mentioned in the NT would not have influenced early Christian thinking about whether Christians could go to war. The ones in the NT were already centurions when they came to Jesus, and there is no mention of whether they stayed in the army afterwards.
Law enforcement was not then as separate from the military as it is today (sometimes), but law enforcement does not necessarily entail killing. In addition, some Christians did serve in the Roman army starting early on, in spite of theological objections to their doing so. Remember that the basic theological objection to Christian military service was that it violated the command “thou shalt not kill” and many soldiers never had to kill anyone.
First, I am also unsure if any Christian prior to the First Council of Nicaea referred to the centurion who amazed Jesus and Cornelius in Acts while justifying working in the Roman army, but I do.
Second, I tend to doubt that someone could join the Roman army and request positions that do not use military weapons. But perhaps a world-renowned expert in Early Christianity might know the answer to that?
Third, I suppose many Roman soldiers never ended up killing a human in the line of duty. Still, any Roman soldier who carried a military weapon might have found themselves in a situation where they need to kill a human.
Fourth, I imagine that a devout Christian in the Roman army would have avoided killing Christians in the case of the Roman military violently persecuting Christians (or any other senseless persecution).
Fifth, I heard of Christians referring to Exodus 20:13 while promoting radical pacifism, but the original context by no means implies that a godly person cannot kill a military enemy. For example, the primary translation of Exodus 20:13 NRSVUE is “You shall not murder.” while the Hebrew word for murder can also mean “kill,” depending on the context.
I’m admittedly extrapolating from modern militaries, where many of the soldiers are there in support of the combat forces. I’m sure it was a different ratio in ancient times, but they did still need support troops. In any case we do know of Christians who joined the army from the second century on, regardless of what the Church Fathers said.
Ex. 20:13 (and also Deut. 5:17) say לא תרצח which specifically means “do not murder” (see the Alter translation note); חרג is the more general word for “to kill.” רצח seems on a quick scan to be limited to instances of murder (see, eg, 1 Kings 21:19). I note that the Septuagint translates this verse as Οὐ φονεύσεις, which according to a footnote can mean either “murder” or “kill.” I don’t know Greek, so Bart may want to chime in here. The Vulgate (which is post-Constantine) translates it as “non occides,” which from what I can gather can have a more general meaning of “kill” as well. Given that probably few of the Church Fathers knew Hebrew, I can see a situation similar to that of Isaiah’s עלמה – the young woman mistranslated as a virgin.
I can see similarities between Augustine’s view of war and Islamic rules regarding war.
I have great difficulty understanding the embrace of violence by Christians, both in practice and principle, as anything other than a clear rejection of fundamental teachings of Jesus.
While there are many things I find difficult to reconcile in Christianity, the only rational way I see to reconcile the OT and NT views of war is to view Jesus’ teachings as a full replacement, revealing that God’s kingdom (and battle) is no longer earthly, but spiritual and eternal. The fact that Jesus (and apostles) advocated pacifism even under persecution, enslavement, and death, indicates this teaching is universal rather than situational. Not only that, I see a universal repudiation of force, and even coercion, in the NT. Even within the church, the ultimate discipline was merely disfellowship.
How then did early Christians come to accept violence/force as compatible with Christianity in principle? And how did they justify union with Rome?
Would it be off base to wonder whether the embrace of violence and force (whether through war or dictate) to accomplish its mission was the “original sin” of the Christian church, from which it has never fully turned, and which is playing a central role in its current dysfunction in the US?
Well, Jesus and his first followers were able to promote pacifism (and note that even then, it wasn’t consistent) for two reasons: First, the pax Romana gave them some protection from violence, even if incomplete; and second, their expectation that the world was about to end allowed them to dismiss violence as temporary. Even if they died by violence, that just meant they would get to heaven a bit early. So I see their pacifism as situational.
This shifted in the next few centuries as it became clear the world wasn’t going to end soon, while on the other hand the pax Romana was breaking down. Also, Christians didn’t so much form a union with Rome as take it over, which meant as a practical matter that they had to defend it from an increasing number of enemies.
I wouldn’t call this Christianity’s “original sin”; there are better candidates for the title. The modern-day violence you complain of took 600+ years after Constantine to fully develop. See this article: https://www.academia.edu/83421830/Justifications_for_Just_War_and_Holy_War_in_Early_and_Medieval_Christianity Or see my book A God of Our Invention for a fuller explanation.