Of these benedictions I think the most emphatical is that pronounced upon the peacemakers: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.”31 Higher praise or a higher title, no man can receive. Now I do not say that these benedictions contain an absolute proof that Christ prohibited war, but I say they make it clear that He did not approve it. He selected a number of subjects for his solemn approbation; and not one of them possesses any congruity with war, and some of them cannot possibly exist in conjunction with it. Can anyone believe that He who made this selection, and who distinguished the peacemakers with peculiar approbation, could have sanctioned his followers in murdering one another? Or does anyone believe that those who were mourners, and meek, and merciful, and peacemaking, could at the same time perpetrate such murder? If I be told that a temporary suspension of Christian dispositions, although necessary to the prosecution of war, does not imply the extinction of Christian principles, or that these dispositions may be the general habit of the mind, and may both precede and follow the acts of war; I answer that this is to grant all that I require, since it grants that when we engage in war, we abandon Christianity.
When the betrayers and murderers of Jesus Christ approached him, his followers asked, “Shall we smite with the sword?” And without waiting for an answer, one of them drew “his sword, and smote the servant of the high priest, and cut off his right ear.”—“Put up thy sword again into its place,” said his Divine Master, “for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.”32 There is the greater importance in the circumstances of this command, because it prohibited the destruction of human life in a cause in which there were the best of possible reasons for destroying it. The question, “shall we smite with the sword,” obviously refers to the defence of the Redeemer from his assailants by force of arms. His followers were ready to fight for Him; and if any reason for fighting could be a good one, they certainly had it. But if, in defence of himself from the hands of bloody ruffians, his religion did not allow the sword to be drawn, for what reason can it be lawful to draw it? The advocates of war are at least bound to show a better reason for destroying mankind, than is contained in this instance in which it was forbidden.
It will, perhaps, be said, that the reason why Christ did not suffer himself to be defended by arms was, that such a defence would have defeated the purpose for which He came into the world, namely, to offer up his life; and that He himself assigns this reason in the context. He does indeed assign it; but the primary reason, the immediate context, is—“for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.” The reference to the destined sacrifice of his life is an after-reference. This destined sacrifice might, perhaps, have formed a reason why his followers should not fight then, but the first, the principal reason which he assigned, was a reason why they should not fight at all. Nor is it necessary to define the precise import of the words, “for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword:” since it is sufficient for us all, that they imply reprobation.
To the declaration which was made by Jesus Christ, in the conversation that took place between himself and Pilate, after He had been seized by the Jews, I would peculiarly invite the attention of the reader. The declaration refers specifically to an armed conflict, and to a conflict between numbers. In allusion to the capability of his followers to have defended his person, He says, “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.”33 He had before forbidden his “servants” to fight in his defence, and now, before Pilate, he assigns the reason for it: “my kingdom is not of this world.” This is the very reason which we are urging against war. We say that it is incompatible with his kingdom—with the state which He came into the world to introduce. The incompatibility of war with Christianity is yet more forcibly evinced by the contrast which Christ makes between his kingdom and others. It is the ordinary practice in the world for subjects to “fight” and his subjects would have fought if his kingdom had been of this world; but since it was not of this world, since its nature was purer and its obligations more pacific—therefore they might not fight.
His declaration referred, not to the act of a single individual who might draw his sword in individual passion, but to an armed engagement between hostile parties; to a conflict for an important object, which one party had previously resolved on attaining, and which the other were ready to have prevented them from attaining, with the sword. It refers, therefore, strictly to a conflict between armed numbers; and to a conflict which, it should be remembered, was in a much better cause than any to which we can now pretend.34
It is with the apostles as with Christ himself. The incessant object of their discourses and writings is the inculcation of peace, of mildness, of placability. It might be supposed that they continually retained in prospect the reward which would attach to “peacemakers.” We ask
