Likelier the barricades shall blare
Slaughter below and smoke above,
And death and hate and hell declare
That men have found a thing to love.
– G. K. Chesterton, The Napoleon of Notting Hill, 1904
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When men really love a thing, they will sacrifice themselves for it. Otherwise, it is no love at all, but mere preference. Love, by its nature, binds together. When men really love life, they will die for it. “For whoever would save his life must lose it.” When men really love their friends, they will die for them. “Greater love hath no man than this: that he lay down his life for his friends.” When men really love peace, they will fight and die for it. “Blessed are the peacemakers.” And this is the supreme paradox of peace — it must be fought for. “Blessed are the peaceful” is perhaps one of the most popular notions that Our Lord never taught. The real verse, of course, is “blessed are the peacemakers,” and between the two there is a world of difference. Between the two there is a gulf as wide as the ocean; yea, even the Pacific.
To violate peace with conflict, if the conflict be just, is no sin at all. “For there must be division among you to show which of you have God’s approval.” There cannot be truth without condemnation of error, so there shall be conflict until the Day of Judgment. There cannot be peace without justice, so there shall be no peace until the Day of Judgment. Anything less would be unjust, and therefore anything but peaceful. “There is no rest for the wicked.” The truth is, Jesus did not come to bring peace, but a sword. And this is because peace is, in and of itself, no virtue at all. It is the child of virtue. It is subservient to justice. This is why the saints shall not find perfect peace until they come into the New Earth where the will of the Father is done as it is in Heaven.
Peace for its own sake cannot bring justice; justice alone will bring peace. Not to resist evil with your life is the surest way to die. “In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of blood.” Injustice and inaction are fundamentally incompatible; the first is a grave evil, and the second an evil grave. Now, it is true that our struggle is not “against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” And I do not say that violence is good. It is morally neutral. Its morality depends upon the aim to which the violence tends. This is why self-defence is different from terrorism: the intent of the action condemns it or exonerates it. Contrary to popular wisdom, the road to hell is not paved with good intentions: “that is the one thing it cannot be paved with” (Chesterton).
If our fighting be reduced to mere revenge, we have already been defeated. “Vengeance is mine, saith the LORD.” And this is the meaning of “turn the other cheek.” This is the meaning of “resist not an evil person.” To take revenge for personal insult, to repay evil for evil, is roundly condemned in no uncertain terms. And this is the meaning of “put your sword back in its place, for all who live by the sword shall die by the sword.” Those who respond to evil with evil shall perish by the same token — a double-edged sword. We are no longer under the Law; we must no longer take an eye for an eye, but we must gouge out our own lest we sin against the justice of God and be condemned by His law.
But in this statement there is no notion of karma. There is no karmic law that governs the universe. This is instead a prohibition against revenge, and a recognition that taking the Law into our own hands will not bring justice; we must instead cut off our own hand lest we use it to sin. Vengeful vigilantism is no virtue when God is vigilant of all — it merely makes us the villain. And this is why we must be people who love justice and hate revenge. “For what does the LORD require of you but that you act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God?” As long as we are fighting because we love what we are fighting for, and do not hate what we are fighting against, our fighting shall be just. As long as we are fighting because we love justice, our fighting cannot be unjust. As long as we are fighting because we love peace, we shall be at peace — for even if we die, we shall finally rest in peace.
But lest I neglect the great virtue of mercy, let me do justice to it here. Some will no doubt ask whether mercy does not preclude the justice of which I speak. I answer, what is more merciful than to uphold justice for the unjustly wronged? Indeed, what is more merciful than to prevent a man from committing further sin? Some will no doubt wonder whether it is unloving to conduct violence. I answer, what is more loving than to love those for whom you fight? Indeed, what is more loving than to physically stop a man from committing evil to save his soul? Some have claimed that to kill a man is to judge him, that we are not to judge, and therefore must never strike a blow. I answer two things. First, to strike a blow to incapacitate is wholly different than to strike a blow to kill. Both may be justified, although it is true that the former is often more justified than the latter. But secondly, and more importantly, to kill a man is not to judge him — but to judge a man is to kill yourself. “Judge not lest ye be judged.” But to fight a man, or even kill him, you need not judge him. You must, however, discern the justness of his means and the morality of his ends. And even if he should be found guilty, and even if it be deemed that he must be physically stopped as a last resort, you need not judge him; that is to say, you need not condemn him to hell in your heart. God is the only Judge. “We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” Instead, we must judge ourselves. How shall we answer on the Day of Judgment if we knew of grievous wrongs and did not set out to right them? if we knew of gross injustice and did execute justice? “For whatever you fail to do for the least of these, you fail to do for Me.” And though Christ did not allow Peter to fight for him, this is because he was able to call down legions of angels. He was not defenceless by necessity but by choice. He did not allow Peter to fight for Him precisely because He had to die for Peter. The Scriptures had to be fulfilled. But those who are defenceless by necessity, who are poor and vulnerable and unjustly wronged, these are not able to call down armies, so we must fight in their place. The unjust aggressors must be resisted, if necessary by force, so that the just may live in peace. And this is why the State, to whom the protection of the vulnerable is institutionally entrusted, bears the sword on behalf of God. “It is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out the wrath of God on those who do wrong.”
Despite the protestation of the Pacifist, the police and military are not necessary evils; they are necessary goods and noble vocations. They are not without their angelic counterparts in the legions of St. Michael. It is true that in the world to come their office may be rendered void, but this in no way implies they are evil now or ever. A great many things shall pass away with this world which have been agents of great good. Take, for instance, marriage. “When the dead rise, they will neither marry nor be given in marriage.” Human companionship is indeed an eternal good, but was not marriage a concession after the fall? And yet, it is a cause of joy and great good. In the same way, justice is an eternal good. Its enforcement against evil and its agents is but a temporary struggle, and indeed a noble one, until the great and terrible Day of the LORD, when the Devil is defeated and the iniquitous destroyed, when death will die and evil cease to be. Perhaps this is why the Pacifist decries the police and military until the moment he really needs protection; he cannot destroy the eternity which is written on his heart, least of all by peaceful means.
Let us not forget the sin before original sin, against the Throne before the mortal State, that of Lucifer’s pride and fall: the first revolution. From that day there has not been peace in heaven or earth, nor can there be, for there cannot be peace until justice has triumphed. And let us not forget the war before the world began, between the primordial beings before Adam, that of angels against demons: the first counterrevolution. The first war was waged by the Devil, and won by God Himself as Satan fell like lightening. If violence is used by the highest powers, it cannot be inherently wrong, for God can do no evil. If God commanded that the ancient Jews use violence to establish their embattled state, it cannot be inherently wrong, for God cannot command evil. “For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He tempt anyone.” God does that which pleases Him, and He is only pleased by perfect virtue. “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Some will argue that God alone can command violence on a case-by-case basis, and that anything else is unjustified. I answer, God has commanded justice. He commands this precisely because He wants us to be at peace, and only justice can bring it about. “And the work of justice shall be peace, and the service of justice quietness, and security for ever.”
To reduce an argument to its extreme is an excellent way to test whether it becomes absurd under duress. Pacifism has done this work for us; it is already an absurd reduction. It teaches that, if you see a woman being beaten on the street, you must not help her. It teaches that, if a robber intrudes in the night and attacks your family, you cannot strike a blow against him. Is there anyone, save the Pacifist, to whom this is not a grave affront? Surely common sense has not yet been so greatly lost. And these teachings reveal the grave error at the heart of pacifism. The problem with pacifism is that it is fundamentally idolatrous. This is because it makes a god of the body. “Do not fear the one who can kill the body, but who can kill the soul.” Likewise, do not fear to kill the body when it will save the soul, or many souls. “Turn his body over to the Devil for the destruction of his flesh for the salvation of his soul.” Pacifism makes the body inviolable, and then stands idly by while it is being violated. Pacifism is inherently unspiritual. Ironically, while proclaiming its pure spirituality, it is unhealthily obsessed with material things, though these things are but shadows and passing away. “For we walk by faith and not by sight.” And “faith is the hope of things unseen.”
In the words of Chesterton, “pacifism does not announce any aim; it only announces that it will never use certain means in pursuing any aim.” And the means which it calls physical violence and denounces as evil, are the same means it allows its enemies to pursue uncontested at the expense of justice. If we ought to fear doing violence, it is waging violence against the spiritual world — or neglecting to do so. For we must do violence to ourselves and put to death the deeds of the flesh, or else we shall certainly die. “The wages of sin is death,” but the violent bear away the Kingdom of Heaven. We ought to fear trampling the Son of God underfoot and doing violence to the Law of God by ignoring the demands of justice. These are the spiritual things which shall never pass away. Make no mistake, peace is a great good. It comes from a noble lineage; its father is justice, and its mother is mercy. But it is not to be pursued for its own sake, or it will never be attained. Peace alone will never bring justice; in fact, it prohibits it, for to avoid conflict for its own sake is no virtue at all and certainly unjust. Justice alone can bring true peace by casting out the enemy of peace: injustice. Indeed, as St. Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthians, the sexually immoral Christian who persists in reprehensible sin must be “turned over to Satan for the destruction of his flesh for the salvation of his soul.” This is by no means a call to violence. It is by no means a prohibition against mercy. It is, in fact, an immense truth: if anyone causes those in Christ to stumble, “it would be better for him to have a large millstone tied around his neck and be drowned in the depths of the ocean” — yea, even the Pacific.
