Why C. S. Lewis Was Wrong About Pacifism, Part I

Author: C. S. Lewis
Essay Title: Why I Am Not a Pacifist
Essay Length: 20 pages
Book Title: The Weight of Glory
Publisher: Macmillan (1980)
Language: English
ISBN: 0-02-095980-X

Introduction

C. S. (Clive Staples) Lewis lived from nearly the turn of the 20th century to the early 1960's. He was a British Christian scholar and author. More specifically, he was an expert on medieval European literature, history, and mythology. In practice, Lewis was an Anglican layman. He was not a clergyman nor an academic theologian. Nevertheless, due in no small part to his brilliant creativity and the accessibility of his thought to the popular listener and reader, his work has been broadly accepted as representative of mainstream Christian thought.


My own Christian faith is deeply indebted to C. S. Lewis. The radio broadcasts, collected and published under the title Mere Christianity, was instrumental in supplying my adolescent mind with the rational arguments needed to thwart skepticism and cynicism. For even though my heart was renewed by faith in Jesus Christ, my mind was constantly assailed by doubt. Lewis approved of the careful reasoning through of one's faith and provided sound arguments for why faith is reasonable. In fact, Lewis' thought not only freed me to think critically about my faith, but also to think creatively. He is perhaps even more well known for his fiction than for his apologetics. As I mentioned in a recent post, I am currently reading The Chronicles of Narnia to my children before bed in the hope that the stories will have the same positive effect on them that they've had on me.


It is because I cherish Lewis' thought so much that it pains me that I must disagree with him on his opposition to pacifism in his essay, "Why I Am Not A Pacifist." On a great many subjects, even controversial ones such as his Inclusivism, we are in agreement. In fact, it is rare that I have found fault with his thinking at all. However, I certainly find the reasoning and conclusions presented in this essay(1) desperately deficient. That is why I have undertaken to write this critique and entitle it, "Why C. S. Lewis Was Wrong About Pacifism."

I. On the Components of Conscience

Before his first criticism of pacifism, Lewis spends a significant portion of the essay setting the stage for his arguments by deconstructing what he presents as the more fundamental question that is raised by the pacifist question(2): "how do we decide what is good or evil?" Lewis proposes conscience as the appropriate answer, but seeks to parse out two distinct ways of understanding conscience. Conscience is not only our sense of moral obligation, or what he describes as "the pressure a man feels upon his will to do what he thinks is right." Conscience is also that aspect of our being that discerns good from evil, or what he describes as "[a person's] judgment as to what the content of right and wrong are." This distinction is critical for Lewis' overall argument because only the latter sense of conscience is susceptible to change through argumentation. To argue with one's own conscience (taken in the first sense) would be to "incur guilt." Lewis intends to appeal directly to our consciences (taken in the second sense), through argumentation, to demonstrate the failure of pacifism.

A. The Reason Analogy

To make clear the conscience’s susceptibility to argumentation, Lewis compares the conscience (taken in the second sense) to reason. He explains that the structure of reasoning is composed of several specific components. The components of reasoning are: 1) Facts—which are a mixture of personal experiences and reports from sources we deem reliable and/or trustworthy (called “authority”); 2) Intuition—self-evident truths perceived inductively; and 3) Argument—the artful or skillful arrangement of intuitively-perceived truths towards a “proof of the truth or falsehood of the proposition [being] considered.” Lewis goes on to explain that what he is calling “intuition” is essential to all rational human beings, “incorrigible” if faulty, and “not amenable to correction by argumentation.” He writes, “...the intuitional element, cannot be corrected if it is wrong, nor supplied if it is lacking.” Components 1 and 3, however, possess the capacity for error and therefore often need correction. This is made even more certain by Lewis’ final comment on reason as an analogy for conscience. He argues that the failure of human beings to acknowledge self-evident truths is often due not to an inability to intuitively perceive them, but is instead due to alternative passions or a “sloth[ful]” lack of effort. Essentially, we tend to “see” only what want or expect to “see.”

B. The Conscience By Comparison

Returning to conscience, Lewis correlates all the components he has described of reason back to our moral discernment center. The fact component is our collective experiences of war, killing, injustice, et cetera. The intuition component is our inductive perceptions of “simple good and evil as such.” The argument component is the arrangement of the truths intuitively perceived in such a way as to “convince a man a particular act is wrong or right.” But Lewis reassigns the authority component slightly, making it not only a replacement for facts as it was used in the reason analogy, but now also a replacement for skillful or artful argumentation. This could be seen as second difference between reason and conscience in addition to the difference Lewis goes on to highlight.

The immediacy of conscience—the fact that we are considering acts that are to be performed or not performed by virtue of their morality or immorality—is the difference between reason and conscience that Lewis emphasizes as primary. Since we would not be considering the morality of an act unless we either wanted to do it or did not want to do it, Lewis argues, we are “bribed from the very beginning.” This is why Lewis gives greater prominence to authority when returning to conscience from reason. Authority is of even greater value for checking our own processes in the case of conscience because of our proclivity toward justifying desirable yet immoral acts.

Lewis’ most relevant points from this section are the positions each of the components occupy in our decision-making process, and how easily corrupted and confused we can become at critical points on our way to a moral conclusion. Lewis argues that what many pacifists claim as intuitive and therefore unarguable is especially debatable since it is based on faulty premises. He uses a teetotaler, someone who questions the Shakespearean authorship of Henry VIII, and those who abstain from vaccinations as examples. The teetotaler concludes that “what can always be abused had better never be used at all.” According to Lewis, he bases this conclusion on opinion, or passions, mistaken for unanswerable intuition. For Lewis, all the components of conscience build a cumulative case for the moral conclusion. Intuition cannot be the sole cause for a stance. The facts must be “clear and little disputed,” the inductively perceived truths must be “unmistakably an intuition,” the connecting arguments must be “strong,” authority must be “in agreement,” and last-but-not-least little motive must be found for the secret bribery of passion. These points will serve to support his overall opposition to pacifism throughout the remainder of the essay while Lewis now turns to consider first the facts component of the pacifist conscience.

Notes:
(1) According to Walter Hooper, who compiled the book, the essay being critiqued was originally a paper written for a pacifist society at Oxford sometime in 1940.
(2) Here “the pacifist question” refers to the question Lewis assumes is the primary concern of the pacifist group he is addressing. He expresses the question thusly, “The question is whether to serve in the wars at the command of the civil society to which I belong is a wicked action, or an action morally indifferent, or an action morally obligatory.”

A Christian Manifesto for Nonviolence

I received this a few days ago from a colleague who works for InnerCHANGE, a Christian order among the poor, in Venezuela. He has been working on this Christian nonviolence creed with several other people for a while now and gave me permission to share it here for your thoughts and comments.

Manifesto:

We confess that Jesus is Lord, the full revelation of the God of the Old Testament and that before Him every knee will bow. We confess that Jesus is Christ, Israel’s Messiah, and Savior of the world who conquered the power of evil on the cross. We agree with Jesus’ call to undivided allegiance to God: "No one can serve two masters…” (Matt 6:24), and “Love the Lord your God with all your heart…and your neighbor as yourself.” We also reaffirm that: “God so loved the world…” and has sent us with that love to society’s outcasts and our country’s enemies. Like Jesus, we must say ‘yes’ to the kingdom of God, and ‘no’ to all allegiances that compromise the furthering of that kingdom.


As followers of Jesus Christ who are citizens of the United States, we are troubled when God’s name is identified with our country’s wars and laws by Christians who remain silent or actively promote them as ordained by God. We believe that uniting God’s name with our government and its leaders is both idolatrous and a hindrance to the witness of the Church. Killing our enemies and enforcing dehumanizing laws in the name of God deny Jesus’ call to love our enemies and to join him as a “friend of sinners.” This is the time for genuine, widespread repentance and change.

Pledge:

As a follower of Jesus Christ, and in keeping with my baptismal vows:

I renounce allegiances to the world and nation that would lead me to justify the use of violence, war or any type of force that are incompatible with Jesus’ teachings and his witness on the cross. I affirm God’s mission for the Church to serve as ambassadors of the kingdom of God, announcing forgiveness, promoting healing, peace and reconciliation – by loving and blessing those considered our enemies.

I renounce the flesh as it manifests in a spirit of national pride, superiority and self-interest that pursues our nation’s dominance for our own economic and material benefit and security. I affirm that my primary earthly place of belonging, identity and loyalty is in Jesus Christ and his body -- the borderless, worldwide family of God, and embrace his way of humility, service and love of God and neighbor.

I renounce Satan, the accuser and deceiver, and turn from his lie that America is God’s elect ambassador of freedom and Christian values whose mission justifies and requires the sacrifice of human lives. I affirm God’s kingdom as manifested through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection and through his Church empowered by the Holy Spirit.

A Critique and a Conversion

The previous post, a critique of an essay written by Darrell Cole about C. S. Lewis' opposition to pacifism, has attracted some attention. A commenter called jackelliot79 posted several comments. Since we've received very little feedback on this blog thus far, I thought I would capitalize on this new activity with a few more posts in the hopes of generating even greater interest. I've agreed to procure and read Lewis' essay Why I am not a pacifist and critique it directly. But in the meantime, I thought it would be fun to post a link to an excellent essay by a blogger named David W. Congdon entitled "My Conversion to an Evangelical Pacifism" that was originally featured on Halden Doerge's excellent blog Inhabitatio Dei.

Of particular relevance to the previous post, I found, was Congdon's description of Lewis' arguments in Why I am not a pacifist as "criminally weak."

Enjoy!

Critique of an Essay on C. S. Lewis' Just War View

I love C. S. Lewis. In many ways, he has been a mentor to me throughout my Christian life. From the time I first read Mere Christianity to now as I am reading the Chronicles of Narnia series to my children, his teachings have helped to shape my faith. That is why it is particularly troubling to me when I read his thoughts on war and peace. I recently found an essay on Lewis' view of Just War, and opposition to pacifism, on the website of Touchtone Magazine—which is apparently a Christian journal. I'd like to spend a little time and space here dissecting parts of this essay in the hopes of exposing critical errors in its conclusion.

The argument the author makes is amazingly naive. For example, he writes, "Human beings cannot be expected to survive in a political system meant for angels, nor is there any biblical warrant for them to attempt such a system." By this he is referring to pacifism, but it is entirely unclear where he is pulling the idea that peace is an angelic ideal, not a human one.

At one point he examines what he calls the "failure of pacifism" from several points of view: facts, intuition, reasoning, and authority. Take a look at some of his points.

"Intuition provides a stronger case for pacifism. We seem to feel very strongly that love and helping are good, while hate and harming are bad. What this intuition fails to tell us, however, is how we are to love and help the innocent who are being treated unjustly by the wicked without using force on the wicked. So intuition in this case leads us astray because it does not see (not immediately at least) what reason sees: that you can love and use force at the same time."

First, the author is supposed to be demonstrating the failure of pacifism under the criterion of "intuition." How does he do so? He states upfront that intuition seems to support pacifism. Then, he goes on to abandon intuition altogether and judge intuition's conclusion by reason. How does this demonstrate pacifism's failure using intuition as a criterion? It doesn't. If anything, this demonstrates pacifism victory on the grounds of intuition, and reason's failure to support our intuition. If our reason goes against our intuition, this author directs readers to jettison their intuition entirely. However, it could just as easily be argued that the author's "reason" or "logic" is just as much an "intuition," since the instinct that killing is not love certainly has a "logical" and "reasonable" grounding.

"Authority, too, is against the pacifist. Every human society has said that some wars are good and that every citizen benefits from some wars (most obviously, wars of self-defense). The Christian tradition since the fourth century has declared that some wars are good.

Yes, opinion was divided in the first two centuries, but not nearly as much as popular opinion would have us believe. The first Christians were held in suspicion by the Roman authorities, and, to make matters worse, participation in the Roman army meant engaging in pagan rites such as emperor-worship. But we find little evidence of the earliest Christians rejecting military service on account of a moral aversion to bloodshed. Most of the early church fathers who speak on the subject of just war speak with approval.

In fact, the 'pros' clearly have it over the 'cons.' Clement of Alexandria, Origen (who was unique in limiting Christian support to prayer for the troops to succeed), Eusebius, Basil, Ambrose, Chrysostom, and Augustine all admit to the goodness and usefulness of just wars. Only Tertullian can be listed on the pacifist side. The great early Reformers, such as Tyndale, Luther, and Calvin, were all proponents of the just war. Only the radical reformers rejected the notion of a just war."

Second, the author scrutinizes pacifism under the criterion of "authority." Of course, what the author means by authority is unclear. Apparently, he appeals to history as authority rather than Scripture. Not a single verse is cited. And even the author's use of Church Fathers is amateurish at best. The fact that he begins his case for the Church's support of war with a statement that starts this support in the "fourth century" and only claims "some" wars are good, does not make a strong case. The obvious questions this statement begs are: What about the preceding centuries, closer to the time of Christ? And, if all wars have not been good, which wars were not good? The author does not answer the second question, and misrepresents the facts to address the first. He claims that there is a lack of evidence in support of Christian nonviolence before the fourth century, and that more early church fathers supported a concept of just war than were opposed. In fact, he counts Origen as a supporter of war because he taught that we should pray for soldiers. However, he erroneously adds that Origen taught we should pray for soldiers' victory in battle. In contrast, Origen argues that if, as Celsus hypothetically pondered, all Romans were Christians, then war would be unnecessary because through prayer God would destroy Rome's enemies.

"We say that if two of us agree upon earth concerning anything that they shall ask, they shall receive it from the heavenly Father of the righteous... For they will pray to the Word, who said of old to the Hebrews when they were pursued by the Egyptians: ‘The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall be silent’; and, praying with all concord, they will be able to overthrow far more enemies who pursue them than those whom the prayers of Moses—when he cried to God—and of those with him overthrew...But if, according to Celsus’ supposition, all the Romans were to be persuaded, they will by praying overcome their enemies; or (rather) they will not make war at all, being guarded by the Divine Power, which promised to save five whole cities for the sake of fifty righteous. For the men of God are the salt that preserves the early order of the world; the earthly things hold together (only) as long as the salt is not corrupted."
- Against Celsus, 8.70

Furthermore, the author claims that opinions differ on the early church's stance toward war before Constantine. However, the only detractor from the overwhelming consensus is himself. Cadoux writes,

"The early Christians took Jesus at his word, and understood his inculcations of gentleness and non-resistence in their literal sense. The closely identified their religion with peace; they strongly condemned war for the bloodshed which it involved; they appropriated to themselves the Old Testament prophesy which foretold the transformation of the weapons of war into the implements of agriculture; they declared that it was their policy to return good for evil and to conquer evil with good."
- John C. Cadoux, The Early Christian Attitude to War: A Contribution to the History of Christian Ethics, 245.

Finally, the authors' implementation of reason as a demonstration of pacifism's failure is perhaps the most disturbing. His reasoning proceeds thusly:

1) Pacifists take Jesus' nonviolence teachings at "face value."
2) This is clearly a mistake because we don't take other teachings of Jesus literally (e.g. selling all our possessions to give to the poor, and not burying family members.)
3) Thankfully, Paul and Peter show us that what Jesus meant was not to exact vengeance.

He writes,

"Reason is clearly against the pacifist on all fronts, except, perhaps, one: the teaching of Jesus that one should “turn the other cheek” (Matt. 5:39). Lewis readily admits that it is hard to deal with people who base their entire theology on a few verses—this in itself seems to go against reason—but he does have a response. If we are going to take all of Jesus’ commands at face value, then pacifists should also sell all their goods and give them to the poor. They should also quit burying their loved ones (“leave the dead to bury the dead,” Matt. 8:22).

Fortunately, we have the Apostle Paul to help us here. When Jesus tells us to turn our cheeks when struck, he means that we should not retaliate out of vengeance. We leave vengeance to God, who works his vengeance on the evildoer through the State’s use of the sword. Christians are called upon to support the State, which has been ordained by God just for the purpose of using the sword to establish and maintain justice (Rom. 12–13). This better accords with the rest of the New Testament—not to mention the Old Testament, where God commands killing on quite a number of occasions! Pacifist logic leads us to say that Paul, Peter, and the writer of Hebrews (who, in the eleventh chapter, commends to Christians as people worthy of imitation those Old Testament warriors who waged war for justice) all misunderstood the teachings of Jesus."

The author's hermeneutics are pathetic. Placing the saying "let the dead bury their own dead" in the same category as "love your enemies" is intellectually dishonest. Jesus clearly mourns the death of Lazerus, to the point of shedding tears for him—knowing full well that he would be raised to life. Furthermore, it is clear from the context that Jesus' hyperbole was meant to emphasize the urgency and unrelenting resolve discipleship and Kingdom citizenship demand. It is comparable to Christ's hyperbolic teaching to cut off offending body parts. Christ's command to love our enemies is not at all hyperbolic. God loves his enemies. Godliness requires that we act in accordance with the divine nature.

It is also important to note that Romans 12 contains stark examples of Paul's full acceptance of Christ's nonviolent ethic. This includes the command to "Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse" (v.14) as well as "If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone." (v.18) If we are commanded to bless our enemies and live at peace with them as far as it depends on us, then we have no justification for violence. This sets the stage for Paul's comments about living under worldly governments. We must never think that ours is a role in society of exacting judgment. Rather, ours is a role of peace, reflecting the Kingdom of God where swords will be beaten into plows.

A Hard Lesson from the Abolitionist Movement

I just finished reading Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau several days ago and the following quote struck me:

"I do not hesitate to say, that those who call themselves Abolitionists should at once effectually withdraw their support, both in person and property, from the government of Massachusetts, and not wait till they constitute a majority of one, before they suffer the right to prevail through them. I think that it is enough if they have God on their side, without waiting for that other one. Moreover, any man more right than his neighbors constitutes a majority of one already."

As I have found myself more and more involved with the Christian peace movement I have found that when I read stuff like this I find myself inserting the word "peacemaker" where the author identifies himself. In this passage I found myself reading it like this: "those who call themselves Peacemakers should at once effectually withdraw their support, both in person and property, from the government of Massachusetts". It sounded inspiring, it sounded radical, initially it sounded right.

Later, as I read more about the Abolitionist movement here in my own home state of Massachusetts (which included several Christian ministers), I realized something upsetting. Check out the following excerpt from The Liberator, a Boston publication authored by William Lloyd Garrison, a minister and outspoken abolitionist who was also a pacifist:

"At the tenth anniversary of the American Anti-Slavery Society, in New York City, May 7th, “it was decided by a vote of nearly three to one of members present….that the existing national compact should be instantly dissolved; that secession from the government is a religious and political duty, that the motto inscribed on the banner of Freedom should be NO UNION WITH SLAVEHOLDERS; that it is impractical for tyrants and the enemies of tyranny to coalesce and legislate together for the preservations of human rights, or the promotion of the interests of Liberty; and that revolutionary ground should be occupied by all those who abhor the thought of doing evil that good may come, and who do not mean to compromise the principles of Justice and Humanity…..”

"No Union With Slaveholders": This was the position that the Abolitionist movement had taken in regards to their opponents and it was at this point that many men in the movement gradually began to shift towards the use of violence. Their anger at the perceived enemy had grown and grown until finally they could only see their opponent as a monster, a "tyrant", an "evildoer" that "good men" had to separate and distinguish themselves from in order to defeat. Finally, when they could no longer recognize the humanity of their enemy and could no longer see the image of God in him, the abolitionists were won over to the cause of the War. Of course, at that point they had little option since they had no relational ground with their enemy by which to cause change, end slavery, and bring about peace.

Right away I questioned my earlier insertion of "peacemakers" into Thoreau's work. This idea of having no relationship with the enemy suddenly seemed totally contrary to Christ's example and did much greater damage in its divisiveness than it did good. What does "No Union" infer? Is this idea of "No Union With Slaveholders" christlike? Is the voice in my head that wants to separate itself from those who espouse just war theory coming from a good place?

The more I thought about it the more I recognized, as we look back through history, that this kind of self-righteous refusal to associate with sinners was just what Jesus condemned about the pharisees. Jesus spent much of his time with tax collectors, prostitutes and sinners: those who the Law had condemned. How do I apply this to my peace witness? What can I infer from Jesus example?

Clearly we are to call out evil where we see it and we should continue to speak out against evils like slavery, nuclear weapons, war, and collateral damage; But if we refuse the enemy the same grace God gives us and we close the door between us and them and say "No Union", we make it impossible for the "enemy" to join us in our cause and we act without humility. It is more important than anything that, as this peace movement moves forward, we do not fear relationships with those who oppose us. They are, I feel, key to the success of bringing about an end to war.

BTW: Check out these three sites. Lots of great material here:
Thoreau's Civil Disobedience
The Liberator: A collection of excerpts from the Abolitionist publication.
A Pacifist Response to Military Chaplain's Day

Recreating Christ in the Image of Caesar, Part II

In the documentary Hanged on a Twisted Cross: The Life, Convictions and Martyrdom of Dietrich Bonhoeffer the young theologian's relationship to Nazism and the subsequent Nazification of the German Church is chronicled. This portion of the film was particularly striking:

In September of 1933, in church elections, Hitler's nominee, Ludwig Müller was elected to lead the German Christian Church. As the Reichbishop of the Reich Church, Müller desired to accelerate the Nazification of the German church.



Müller nationalized the Sermon on the Mount, rewriting the Beatitudes. The beatitude of the meek became "Blessed is the one who is a good comrade at all times, he will get on well in the world."



"Wanting to serve both Caesar and Christ, the Reich church finally shaped its Christ in the image of the Caesar."

Recreating Christ in the Image of Caesar, Part I

According to various church traditions, Flavius Valerius Aurelius Constantinus (aka Constantine "the Great" or even "Saint Constantine"), accepted Christianity as his religion after gaining victory over Maxentius at the Battle of the Milvian Bridge—where the would-be emperor allegedly had a vision of the Chi (X) Rho (P), the first two letters in the Greek word christos, meaning Christ. Eusebius, an early church historian, wrote one of the only description of this story. In his account, Constantine saw a vision in the heavens of the cross along with the words In Hoc Signo Vinces meaning "In this sign, you will conquer."

Constantine is claimed to be the first "Christian Emperor" due to his issuance of the Edict of Milan in 313—mandating religious tolerance—and effectively "legalizing" Christianity (along with all other religions). However, much of the evidence that Constantine was "Christian" is highly suspect, if not plainly inconclusive. For example, the closest historic link we have to Constantine, his triumphal arch in Rome, erected to commemorate his victory over Maxentius—the one he supposedly attributed to Christ's power—contains not one, single Christian symbol. Instead, the arch is adorned by several reliefs with depictions of Apollo, Hercules, Diana, Silvanus. In fact, the shields and standards of Constantine's soldiers do not even display the Chi (X) that Eusebius tells was commanded in a dream the night before. Constantine even continued to accept the title of Potifex Maximus, head of the Roman pagan priesthood, after his alleged conversion.

Prior to Constantine, from the time of Christ to the reign of Marcus Aurelius (160-181AD), there is no historical account of Christians serving in the Roman military. In contrast, the early church theologian Origen (185-251AD), in his six-part treatise Against Celsus, conceded the charge of Celsus, a pagan philosopher, that Christians do not "hold public office, fight in the army, or swear the oaths of allegiance to the state."

Nevertheless, by the fourth century, the Constantinian Shift was complete. The Constantinian Shift is the historical-theological transition from the nonviolent, Kingdom ethic of Jesus and his early followers to the violent, triumphalist ethic of "Christendom." This term was coined by renowned Anabaptist theologian John Howard Yoder.

The mosaic pictured above is one of the more blatant examples of this shift. Its is from the Byzantine period, and is featured in the Archepiscopal Palace in Ravenna—the then capital of Roman Empire. It was commissioned by Bishop Pietro II in 494-495. The mosaic depicts Christ as a Roman Legionary and wearing a purple tunic, the symbol of royalty. Unlike a Jewish Rabbi, Christ is pictured beardless like a Roman emperor. Far from the Hebrew peasant born under Roman occupation and crucified on a Roman cross, Christ is here recreated in the image of the emperor.

In part 2 of this post, I will show how the Reich Church of Nazi Germany recreated Christ in the image of the "Fuhrer."