Vicesimus
Knox: Minister of Peace
by
Laurence
M. Vance
by Laurence M. Vance
Christian,
is your preacher a minister of war or a minister of peace?
It
is a horrible blight on Christianity that many of the preachers
in America today who claim to be conservative Christians waste their
time defending the president and upholding the Republican Party
instead of defending the Bible and upholding Christianity. Instead
of indoctrinating their congregations in the Christian faith, they
propagandize them in government falsehood. Instead of exalting the
name of Jesus Christ, they exalt the name of George Bush. Instead
of diligently studying and giving their church members the truth,
they indolently watch Fox News and give their church members government
lies. Instead of helping their parishioners grow in their Christian
life, they help them grow in their admiration for the state.
What
an embarrassment that some preachers parrot Fox News instead of
preach the gospel! What a shame to hear a sermon that glorifies
the sacrifices of U.S. troops in Iraq instead of the sacrifice of
Christ on Calvary! What a disgrace that some preachers are ministers
of war instead of ministers of peace!
A
Minister of Peace
 Warmongering
and making apologies for the state were not always the forte of
preachers. The British preacher Vicesimus Knox (1752–1821)
was a minister of peace.
Knox
was educated at home by his father of the same name until he was
fourteen. After graduating from St. John’s College, Oxford, he became
a fellow of the college and was ordained a priest in the Church
of England. He served as the headmaster of Tonbridge
School from 1778 to 1812. He was preceded by his father, who
was headmaster from 1772 to 1778, and succeeded by his son, Thomas,
who was headmaster from 1812 to 1843. Knox was said to be "a
good scholar, an impressive preacher, and a popular and voluminous
writer." He was both an advocate of civil liberties and an
adversary of offensive war. Knox’s collected works of letters, sermons,
educational writings, and political pamphlets take up seven volumes.
The
Prospect of Perpetual and Universal Peace
In
1793, Knox preached a sermon in the parish church at Brighton on
the unlawfulness of offensive war. This sermon, "The Prospect
of Perpetual and Universal Peace to Be Established on the Principles
of Christian Philanthropy," which is available online
and in
print, was attended by some officers from the local army garrison.
Several days later, these same officers compelled Knox and his family
to leave a play at the Brighton theatre when they spotted him in
one of the boxes. The text of Knox’s sermon was "Glory to God
in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men" (Luke
2:14). He begins by imploring his hearers to
consider
whether among those who bear rule, by power or by example, GLORY
IS DULY GIVEN TO GOD; whether they do really promote to the utmost
of their power, PEACE ON EARTH; and whether they seem to entertain
GOOD WILL TOWARDS MEN, in that extent and degree which the Gospel
of Jesus Christ requires of all who profess to believe it, and
who expect the rewards of the pious and the peaceful.
He
concludes that such is not the case:
The
picture is sadly shaded with misery. Peace on earth! Alas where
is it? amid all our refinement in the modes of cultivated life,
all our elegant pleasures, all our boasted humanity, WAR, that
giant fiend, is stalking over empires in garments dropping with
the blood of men, shed by men, personally unoffended and unoffending;
of men, professing to love as brethren, yet cutting off each other
from the land of the living, long before the little time allotted
them by nature is elapsed; and increasing beyond measure, all
the evils to which man is naturally and morally doomed, at the
command of a narrow shortsighted human policy, and an ambition
which, considering the calamities causes, I must call accursed.
By
all but the vulgar and the creatures of despotism, offensive war,
with all its pompous exterior, must be deprecated as the disgrace
and calamity of human nature. Poor outside pageantry! What avails
the childish or womanish finery of gaudy feathers on the heads
of warriors? Though tinged with the gayest colours by the dyer’s
art, they appear to the eye of humanity, weeping over the fields
of battle, dipt in gore. What avails the tinsel, the trappings,
the gold and the scarlet? Ornaments fitter for the pavilions of
pleasure than the field of carnage. Can they assuage the anguish
of a wound, or call back the departed breath of the pale victims
of war; poor victims, unnoticed and unpitied, far from their respective
countries, on the plains of neighhouring provinces, the wretched
seat of actual war; not of parade, the mere play of soldiers,
the pastime of the idle spectator, a summer day’s sight for the
gazing saunterer; but on the scene of carnage, the Aceldama, the
field of blood, where, in the fury of the conflict, man appears
to forget his nature and exhibits feats at which angels weep,
while nations shout in barbarous triumph.
The
elegant decorations of a sword, wantonly drawn in offensive war,
what are they, but a mockery of the misery it was intended to
create? An instrument of death to a fellow-creature who has never
injured me, a holiday ornament! Colours of the darkest hue might
form the appropriate habiliments of those who art: causelessly
sent as the messengers of death; of death, not to animals of another
species, fierce and venomous; but to those who like themselves,
were born of woman, who sucked the breast of a woman, and who,
if spared by the ruthless sword, must like themselves in a few
short years die by the necessity of nature; die, and moulder into
dust, under the turf once verdant and flowery, but now crimsoned
with human gore. Alike born the victors and the vanquished, alike
they die if spared in the battle; and alike must stand at the
latter day, all stript of the distinctions of finer dress and
superior rank, in the presence of those whom they cut off in this
world before their time, in youth and health, like rose-buds cropt
in the bud of existence.
Oh
war! thy blood-stained visage cannot be disguised by the politician’s
artifice. Thy brilliant vestments are to him who sympathizes with
human woe in all climes and conditions, no better than sable mourning;
thy melody, doleful discord, the voice of misery unutterable.
Decked, like the harlot, in finery not thine own, thou art even
the pest of man nature; and in countries where arbitrary power
prevails, the last sad refuge of selfish cruel despotism, building
its gorgeous palaces on the ruins of those who support its grandeur
by their personal labour; and whom it ought to protect and to
nourish under the olive shade of peace.
What
feeling man can cast his eyes (as he proceeds in contemplating
the picture) over the tented plains, on the theatre, glittering
in the sunbeams with polished arms and gay with silken banners,
without a sigh, if he views it undazzled by the "pride, pomp
and circumstance," which the wisdom of this world has, from
the earliest times, devised to facilitate its own purposes; purposes,
it is to be feared, that have little reference to him who said,
that his kingdom was not of this world; and whose religion
was announced by a proclamation of peace on earth. What a picture
is the tablet we are viewing of the heart of man, and of the misery
of man! that he should thus find it necessary to defend himself
with so much effort, at such expense of blood and treasure, not,
as I said before, against the beast of the forest, not against
the tiger and the wolf, for then it were well; but against his
fellow man, his Christian brother, subject to the same wants,
agonized with the same natural sufferings, doomed to the same
natural death, and as a Christian, hoping for the same salvation;
and perhaps separated from him only by a few leagues of intervening
ocean.
Lo!
in countries where war actually rages, thousands and tens of thousands
of our fellow-creatures, all perhaps Christians in profession,
many in the flower of their youth, torn from the peaceful vale,
the innocent occupations of agriculture, or the useful employments
of mechanic arts, to learn with indefatigable pains (separated
at the same time from all the sweet endearments and duties of
domestic life) to learn the art of spreading devastation and most
expeditiously and effectually destroying those of their fellow-creatures,
whom politicians have bade them consider as enemies, and therefore
to cut off in their prime; but whom Christ taught, even if they
were personal enemies, to love, to pity, and to save. Do they
not, thoughtless as they are, require to be reminded of the gracious
proclamation from Heaven, "On earth peace, Good-will towards
men."
I
wish not to dwell on the gloomy picture exhibited by various nations
of Europe, professing Christianity as part of their respective
constitutions; but acting towards each other with the ferocity
of such savages as never heard that invitation of Christ; Come
unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give
you rest.
Alas!
is it not enough that age, disease, death, and misery, in a hundred
forms, are hourly waging war with all mankind; but they must add
to the sting of death new venom; new anguish to every pang by
waging war with each other? Men who as individuals are kind and
humane, appear as nations, still in a state of barbarism and savage
nature.
Yet
we must believe and maintain the political necessity of war, though
the greatest evil which can be endured by a civilized, flourishing
and free people; we must believe its political necessity, because
they, who in the various nations of the world, seem to claim an
hereditary right to wisdom, as well as power, have, in all ages
and in the most enlightened and Christian countries, so determined;
yet, with all due submission to that wisdom and to that power,
let every man who justly glories in the name and feelings of a
man, mourn and lament the existence of that political necessity;
and if it be such, pray to the father of us all, of every clime
and colour, that under the benign influence of that Christianity
which we profess, war may be no more on the face of the whole
earth, and the sword every where converted into the pruning hook
and the plough share.
O!
that the still small voice of religion and philosophy could be
heard amidst the cannon’s roar, the shouts of victory, and the
clamours of discordant politicians! It would say to all nations
and to all people "Come unto me, all ye that labour in the
field of battle, heavy laden with the weapons of war, worn out
with its hardships, arid in jeopardy every hour; come unto me
and I will give you rest; I will be unto you as a helmet, and
a shield from the fiery darts of the common enemy of all mankind;
and will lead you, after having rendered you happy and safe in
this world, to the realms of everlasting peace."
As
much as he hated war, Knox was not a pacifist: "Defensive war,
in the present disordered state of human affairs, is sometimes as
necessary as it is honourable; necessary to maintain peace, and
the beautiful gradations of a well regulated society." But
he believed that
faithful
ministers of the Gospel, are on our part bound by our duty, to
pray for peace; to promote peace as much as in us lies; to preach
peace, to cry aloud for peace and spare not, even though the instigators
to war should frown upon us; and in defiance of the God of peace,
prepare for the battle, It is our indispensable duty.
As
a minister, Knox’s answer to the problems of the world was, of course,
Christianity:
If
the Christian religion, apparently laid aside, when to lay it
aside suits the convenience of politicians, were indeed allowed
to influence above every thing else the conduct of princes, and
the councils of all cabinets, how different would be the picture
of Europe.
If
the Christian religion in all its purity, and in its full force,
were suffered to prevail universally, the sword of offensive war
must be sheathed for ever, and the din of arms would at last he
silenced in perpetual peace.
He
finishes his sermon with a prayer that is rather unlike the war
prayer recorded by Mark Twain:
O
thou God of mercy, grant that the sword may return to its scabbard
for ever; that the religion of Jesus Christ may be duly understood,
and its benign influence powerfully felt by all kings, princes,
rulers, nobles, counsellors, and legislators, on the whole earth;
that they may all combine in a league of philanthropy, to enforce
by reason and mild persuasion, the law of love, or Christian charity,
among all mankind, in all climes, and in all sects; consulting,
like superior beings, the good of those beneath them; not endeavouring
to promote their own power and aggrandizement by force and arms;
but building their thrones, and establishing their dominion on
the hearts of their respective people, preserved from the horrors
of war by their prudence and clemency: and enjoying, exempt from
all unnecessary burthens, the fruits of their own industry; every
nation thus blest, permitting all others under the canopy of heaven
to enjoy the same blessings uninterrupted, in equal peace and
security.
The
Spirit of Despotism
But
it was not just in his sermons that Knox spoke out against war.
His main work, The
Spirit of Despotism, written in 1795, is an analysis of
how political despotism at home can arise under the cover of fighting
a foreign war. The complete text is available online
and the complete chapters from which the following abstracts are
taken are available in
print.
Knox begins in his Preface:
I
attribute war, and most of the artificial evils of life, to the
Spirit of Despotism, a rank poisonous weed, which grows and flourishes
even in the soil of liberty, when over-run with corruption.
I
have frequently lifted up my voice – a feeble one indeed – against
war, that great promoter of despotism; and while I have liberty
to write, I will write for liberty.
In
section X, "When Human Life is held cheap, it is a Symptom
of a prevailing Spirit of Despotism," he says of war:
Despotism
delights in war. It is its element. As the bull knows, by instinct,
that his strength is in his horns, and the eagle trusts in his
talons; so the despot feels his puissance most, when surrounded
by his soldiery arrayed for battle. With the sword in his hand,
and his artillery around him, he rejoices in his might, and glories
in his greatness. Blood must mark his path; and his triumph is
incomplete, till death and destruction stalk over the land, the
harbingers of his triumphant cavalcade.
We
hear much of necessary wars; but it is certainly true, that a
real, absolute, unavoidable necessity for war, such as alone can
render it just, has seldom occurred in the history of man. The
pride, the wanton cruelty of absolute princes, caring nothing
for human life, have in all ages, without the least necessity,
involved the world in war; and therefore it is the common cause
of all mankind to abolish absolute power; and to discourage, by
every lawful means, the spirit that leads to any degree of it.
No individual, however good, is fit to be trusted with so dangerous
a deposit. His goodness may be corrupted by the magnitude of the
trust; and it is the nature of power, uncontrolled by fear or
law, to vitiate the best dispositions. He who would have shuddered
to spill a drop of blood, in a hostile contest, as a private man,
shall deluge whole provinces, as an absolute prince, and laugh
over the subjugated plains which he has fertilized with human
gore.
What
are the chief considerations with such men, previously to their
going to war, and at its conclusion? Evidently the expense of
money. Little is said or thought of the lives lost, or devoted
to be lost, except as matters of pecuniary value. Humanity, indeed,
weeps in silence and solitude, in the sequestered shade of private
life; but is a single tear shed in courts, and camps, and cabinets?
When men high in command, men of fortune and family, fall, their
deeds are blazoned, and they figure in history; but who, save
the poor widow and the orphan, inquire after the very names of
the rank and file? There they lie, a mass of human flesh, not
so much regretted by the despots as the horses they rode, or the
arms they bore. While ships often go down to the bottom, struck
by the iron thunderbolts of war, and not a life is saved; the
national loss is estimated by the despot, according to the weight
of metal wasted, and the magnitude and expense of the wooden castle.
Great
numbers of men, trained to the trade of human butchery, have been
constantly ready to be let to hire, to carry on the work of despotism,
and to support, by the money they earned in this hellish employment,
the luxurious vices of the wretch who called them his property.
In
section XVII, "On debauching the Minds of the rising Generation
and a whole People, by giving them Military Notions in a free and
commercial Country," he says of war:
The
abettors of high prerogative, of absolute monarchy, and aristocratical
pride, always delight in war. Not satisfied with attacking foreign
nations, and keeping up a standing army even in time of peace,
they wish, after they have once corrupted the mass of the people
by universal influence, to render a whole nation military. The
aggregate of military force, however great, being under their
entire direction, they feel their power infinitely augmented,
and bid defiance to the unarmed philosopher and politician, who
brings into the field truth without a spear, and argument unbacked
with artillery.
The
diffusion of a military taste among all ranks, even the lowest
of the people, tends to a general corruption of morals, by teaching
habits of idleness, or trifling activity, and the vanity of gaudy
dress and empty parade.
The
strict discipline which is found necessary to render an army a
machine in the hands of its directors, requiring, under the severest
penalties, the most implicit submission to absolute command, has
a direct tendency to familiarize the mind to civil despotism.
Men, rational, thinking animals, equal to their commanders by
nature, and often superior, are bound to obey the impulse of a
constituted authority, and to perform their functions as mechanically
as the trigger which they pull to discharge their muskets. They
cannot indeed help having a will of their own; but they must suppress
it, or die. They must consider their official superiors as superiors
in wisdom and in virtue, even though they know them to be weak
and vicious. They must see, if they see at all, with the eyes
of others: their duty is not to have an opinion of their own,
but to follow blindly the behest of him who has had interest enough
to obtain the appointment of a leader. They become living automatons,
and self-acting tools of despotism.
While
a few only are in this condition, the danger may not be great
to constitutional liberty; but when a majority of the people are
made soldiers, it is evident that the same obsequiousness will
become habitual to the majority of the people. Their minds will
be broken down to the yoke, the energy of independence weakened,
the manly spirit tamed; like animals, that once ranged in the
forest, delighting in their liberty, and fearless of man, caught
in snares, confined in cages, and taught to stand upon their hind
legs, and play tricks for the entertainment of the idle. They
obey the word of command given by the keeper of the menagerie,
because they have been taught obedience by hunger, by the lash
of the whip, by every mode of discipline consistent with their
lives, which are saleable property. But they are degenerate, contemptible
animals.
The
whole of the military system is much indebted for its support
to that prevailing passion of human nature, pride. Politicians
know it, and flatter pride even in the lowest of the people. Hence
recruiting-officers invite gentlemen only, who are above servile
labour. "The vanity of the poor men" (says a sagacious
author) "is to be worked upon at the cheapest rate possible.
Things we are accustomed to we do not mind, or else what mortal,
that never had seen a soldier, could look, without laughing, upon
a man accoutred with so much paltry gaudiness and affected finery?
The coarsest manufacture that can be made of wool, dyed of a brick-dust
colour, goes down with him, because it is in imitation of scarlet
or crimson cloth; and to make him think himself as like his officer
as it is possible, with little or no cost, instead of silver or
gold lace, his hat is trimmed with white or yellow worsted, which
in others would deserve bedlam; yet these fine allurements, and
the noise made upon a calf-skin, have drawn in and been the destruction
of more men in reality, than all the killing eyes and bewitching
voices of women ever slew in jest."
The
spirit of pride is in fact the spirit of despotism; especially
when it is that sort of pride which plumes itself on command,
on external decoration, and the idle vanity of military parade.
When
this pride takes place universally in a nation, there will remain
little industry, and less independence. The grand object will
be to rise above our neighbours in show and authority. All will
bow to the man in power, in the hope of distinction. Men will
no longer rely on their own laborious exertions; but the poor
man will court, by the most obsequious submission, the favour
of the esquire; the esquire cringe to the next lord, especially
if he be a lord-lieutenant of the county; and the lord-lieu-tenant
of the county, will fall prostrate before the first lord of the
treasury; and the first lord of the treasury will idolize prerogative.
Thus the military rage will trample on liberty; and despotism
triumphant march through the land, with drums beating and colours
flying.
In
section XXX, "The Spirit of Despotism delights in War or systematic
Murder," he says of war:
Fear
is the principle of all despotic government, and therefore despots
make war their first study and delight. No arts and sciences,
nothing that contributes to the comfort or the embellishment of
human society, is half so much attended to, in countries where
the spirit of despotism is established, as the means of destroying
human life. Tigers, wolves, earthquakes, inundations, are all
innocuous to man, when compared with the fiercest of monsters,
the gory despots. Fiends, furies, demons of destruction! may the
day be near, when, as wolves have been utterly exterminated from
England, despots may be cut off from the face of the whole earth;
and the bloody memory of them loaded with the execration of every
human being, to whom God has given a heart to feel, and a tongue
to utter!
Wherever
a particle of their accursed spirit is found, there also will
be found a propensity to war. In times of peace, the grandees
find themselves shrunk to the size of common mortals. A finer
house, a finer coach, a finer coat, a finer livery than others
can afford, is all that they can display to the eye of the multitude,
in proof of their assumed superiority. Their power is inconsiderable.
But no sooner do you blow the blast of war, and put armies under
their command, than they feel themselves indeed great and powerful.
A hundred thousand men, in battle array, with all the instruments
of destruction, under the command of a few grandees, inferior,
perhaps, in bodily strength, to every one of the subject train,
and but little superior in intellect or courage, yet holding all,
on pain of death, in absolute subjection; how must it elevate
the little despots in their own opinion! "This it is to live,"
(they exclaim, shaking hands with each other) "this is to
be great indeed. Now we feel our power. Glory be to us on high;
especially as all our fame and greatness is perfectly compatible
with our personal safety; for we will not risk our precious persons
in the scene of danger, but be content with our extended patronage,
with the delight of commanding the movements of this human machine,
and with reading of the blood, slaughter, and burnt villages,
in the Gazette, at our fire-side."
All
the expense of war is paid by the people, and most of the personal
danger incurred by those, who, according to some, have no political
existence; I mean the multitude, told by the head, like sheep
in Smithfield. Many of these troublesome beings in human form,
are happily got rid of in the field of battle, and more by sickness
and hardship previous or subsequent to the glorious day of butchery.
Thus all makes for the spirit of despotism. There are, in consequence
of a great carnage, fewer wretches left to provide for, or to
oppose its will; and all the honour, all the profit, all the amusement,
falls to the share of the grandees, thus raised from the insignificance
and inglorious indolence of peace, to have their names blown over
the world by the trumpet of Fame, and recorded in the page of
history.
But
a state of war not only gives a degree of personal importance
to some among the great, which they could never obtain by the
arts of peace, but greatly helps the cause of despotism. In times
of peace the people are apt to be impertinently clamorous for
reform. But in war, they must say no more on the subject, because
of the public danger. It would be ill-timed. Freedom of speech
also must be checked. A thousand little restraints on liberty
are admitted, without a murmur, in a time of war, that would not
be borne one moment during the halcyon days of peace. Peace, in
short, is productive of plenty, and plenty makes the people saucy.
Peace, therefore, must not continue long after a nation has arrived
at a certain degree of prosperity. This is a maxim of Despotism.
And
finally, in section XL, "The Pride which produces the Spirit
of Despotism conspicuous even on the Tombstone. It might be treated
with total Neglect, if it did not tend to the Oppression of the
Poor, and to Bloodshed and Plunder," Knox warns of the dangers
of standing armies:
Standing
armies are therefore the glory and delight of all who are actuated
by the spirit of despotism. They would have no great objection
to military government and martial law, while power is in their
own hands, or in the hands of their patrons. The implicit submission
of an army, the doctrine, which the military system favours, that
men in subaltern stations are to act as they are bidden, and never
to deliberate on the propriety of the command, is perfectly congenial
with the spirit of despotism. The glitter, the pomp, the parade
and ostentation of war are also highly pleasing to minds that
prefer splendour and pageantry to solid and substantial comfort.
The happiness, which must ever depend on the tranquillity of the
people, is little regarded, when set in competition with the gratification
of personal vanity. Plumes, lace, shining arms, and other habiliments
of war, set off the person to great advantage; and as to the wretches
who are slain or wounded, plunged into captivity and disease,
in order to support this finery, are they not paid for it? Besides,
they are, for the most part, in the lowest class, and those whom
nobody knows.
Such
is the love of standing armies, in some countries, that attempts
are made to render even the national militia little different
from a standing army. This circumstance alone is a symptom of
the spirit of despotism. A militia of mercenary substitutes, under
officers entirely devoted to a minister, must add greatly to a
standing army, from which, in fact, it would differ only in name.
Should the people be entirely disarmed, and scarcely a musket
and bayonet in the country but under the management of a minister,
through the agency of servile lords lieutenant and venal magistrates,
what defence would remain, in extremities, either for the king
or the people?
Antipolemus
Included
in the works of Knox is also his translation of one of the Adages
of Erasmus, Dulce bellum inexpertis ("War is sweet
for those who have not tried it"). He titled it "Antipolemus,
or the Plea of Reason, Religion, and Humanity against War."
This is also available online
and in
print. Knox added a lengthy Preface in which he said of war:
There
will never be wanting pamphleteers and journalists to defend war,
in countries where prime ministers possess unlimited patronage
in the church, in the law, in the army, in the navy, in all public
offices, and where they can bestow honours, as well as emoluments,
on the obsequious instruments of their own ambition.
Near
three hundred years have elapsed since the composition of this
Treatise. In so long a period, the most enlightened which the
history of the world can display, it might be supposed that the
diffusion, of Christianity, and the improvements in arts, sciences,
and civilisation, would either have abolished war, or have softened
its rigour. It is however a melancholy truth, that war still rages
in the world, polished as it is, and refined by the beautiful
arts, by the belles lettres, and by a most liberal philosophy.
To
eradicate from the bosom of man principles which argue not only
obduracy, but malignity, is certainly the main scope of the Christian
religion; and the clergy are never better employed in their grand
work, the melioration of human nature, the improvement of general
happiness, than when they are reprobating all propensities whatever,
which tend, in any degree, to produce, to continue, or to aggravate
the calamities of war; those calamities which, as his majesty
graciously expressed it, in one of his speeches from the throne,
are inseparable from a state of war.
There
is nothing so heterodox, I speak under the correction of the reverend
prelacy, as war, and the passions that lead to it, such as pride,
avarice, and ambition. The greatest heresy I know, is to shed
the blood of an innocent man, to rob by authority of a Christian
government, to lay waste by law, to destroy by privilege, that
which constitutes the health, the wealth, the comfort, the happiness,
the sustenance of a fellow-creature, and a fellow Christian. This
is heresy and schism with a vengeance!
I
hope the world has profited too much by experience, to encourage
any offensive war, under the name and pretext of a holy war.
Let
Mahomet mark the progress of the faith by blood. Such modes of
erecting the Cross are an abomination to Jesus Christ. Is it,
after all, certain, that the slaughter of the unbelievers will
convert the survivors to the religion of the slaughterers? Is
the burning of a town, the sinking of a ship, the wounding and
killing hundreds of thousands in the field, a proof of the lovely
and beneficent spirit of that Christianity to which the enemy
is to be converted, by the philanthropic warriors?
They
who defend war, must defend the dispositions which lead to war;
and these dispositions are absolutely forbidden by the gospel.
The very reverse of them is inculcated in almost every page. Those
dispositions being extinguished, war must cease; as the rivulet
ceases to flow when the fountain is destitute of water; or as
the tree no longer buds and blossoms, when the fibres, which extract
the moisture from the earth, are rescinded or withered. It is
not necessary that there should be in the gospel an absolute prohibition
of war in so many express words; it is enough that malice and
revenge are prohibited. The cause ceasing, the effect can be no
more. Therefore I cannot think it consistent with the duty of
a bishop, or any other clergyman, either to preach or pray in
such a manner as to countenance, directly or indirectly, any war,
but a war literally, truly, and not jesuitically, a defensive
war pro aris et focis; and even then, it would be more
characteristic of Christian divines to pray for universal peace,
for a peaceable conversion of the hearts of our enemies, rather
than for bloody victory.
Wars
of ambition, for the extension of empire or for the gratification
of pride, envy, and malice, can never be justified; and therefore
it is, that all belligerent powers agree to call their several
wars defensive in the first instance, and then, just and necessary.
This is a tacit, but a very striking acknowledgment, on all sides,
that offensive war is unjustifiable. But the misfortune is, that
power is never without the aid of ingenious sophistry to give
the name of right to wrong; and, with the eloquence which Milton
attributes to the devil, to make the worse appear the better cause.
But
as war is confessedly PUBLICA MUNDI CALAMITAS, the common misfortune
of all the world, it is time that good sense should interpose,
even if religion were silent, to controul the mad impetuosity
of its cause, ambition.
War
has certainly been used by the great of all ages and countries
except our own, as a means of supporting an exclusive claim to
the privileges of enormous opulence, stately grandeur, and arbitrary
power. It employs the mind of the multitude, it kindles their
passions against foreign, distant, and unknown persons, and thus
prevents them from adverting to their own oppressed condition,
and to domestic abuses. There is something fascinating in its
glory, in its ornaments, in its music, in its very noise and tumult,
in its surprising events, and in victory. It assumes a splendour,
like the harlot, the more brilliant, gaudy, and affected, in proportion
as it is conscious to itself of internal deformity. Paint and
perfume are used by the wretched prostitute in profusion, to conceal
the foul ulcerous sores, the rottenness and putrescence of disease.
The vulgar and the thoughtless, of which there are many in the
highest ranks, as well as in the lowest, are dazzled by outward
glitter. But improvement of mind is become almost universal, since
the invention of printing; and reason, strengthened by reading,
begins to discover, at first sight and with accuracy, the difference
between paste and diamonds, tinsel and bullion. It begins to see
that there can be no glory in mutual destruction; that real glory
can be derived only from beneficial exertions, from contributions
to the conveniencies and accommodations of life; from arts, sciences,
commerce, and agriculture; to all which war is the bane.
The
total abolition of war, and the establishment of perpetual and
universal peace, appear to me to be of more consequence than any
thing ever achieved, or even attempted, by mere mortal man, since
the creation.
I
detest and abhor atheism and anarchy as warmly and truly as the
most sanguine abettors of war can do; but I am one who thinks,
in the sincerity of his soul, that reasonable creatures ought
always to be coerced, when they err, by the force of reason, the
motives of religion, the operation of law; and not by engines
of destruction. In a word, I utterly disapprove all war, but that
which is strictly defensive.
The
Need of the Hour
 We
need preachers who will serve as ministers of peace instead of ministers
of war. We need preachers who will preach the Bible instead of Bush’s
"compassionate conservatism." We need preachers who will
refuse to defend the president with the words: "But he’s a
Christian." We need preachers who will refuse to make excuses
for Bush’s warped
and unorthodox view of Christianity. We need preachers with
some backbone who will not blindly follow the state as they incessantly
repeat the mantra: "Obey the powers that be." We need
preachers who are willing to apply the commandment, "Thou shalt
not kill" (Exodus 20:13), to killing in an unjust, immoral
war. We need preachers who are as concerned about killing on the
battlefield as they are about killing in the womb.
We
need more preachers like Vicesimus Knox and less preachers like
Jerry Falwell.
For
another minister of peace, see also my article on Charles
Spurgeon.
October
24, 2005
Laurence
M. Vance [send him mail]
is a freelance writer and an adjunct instructor in accounting and
economics at Pensacola Junior College in Pensacola, FL. He is also
the director of the Francis
Wayland Institute. His new book is Christianity
and War and Other Essays Against the Warfare State. Visit
his website.
Copyright
© 2005 LewRockwell.com
Laurence
M. Vance Archives
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