Marching (Peacefully) On
We continue to examine in this essay the Scriptural basis for the pacifism of Jesus, and by implication our own. As in the other essays in this series I will use as a fundamental text Jean Lasserre’s War and the Gospel. In this installment I will look at Part 2 chapter 2 where Lasserre looks at the example of Jesus and His Apostle’s.
Lasserre make the clear point, that is uncontestable, that neither Jesus nor His followers ever committed violence. The obvious conclusion is that we, as followers of Jesus, must imitate our Lord, and are therefore proscribed from committing violence ourselves. That seems simple enough, especially in light of the previous essay in this series about the command to love everyone.
Lassere gives multiple examples. I will focus on three that he offers to support his argument that Jesus and the Apostle’s never committed any violence. First is that they always refused to fight. Second is that except at Gethsemane they never even bore arms. Third, they never committed any acts of violence. Obviously if all followers of Jesus agreed with these and the other lack of Scriptural support for violence on the part of Jesus and His followers then war would be a thing of the past. Since this is not the case, we must look at the rationales offered by those claiming a Scriptural justification for violence.
What About the Sword?
Those who argue for the justification of violence, particularly war, offer a retort to the pacifist position offered by Lasserre. First among these arguments is a particular interpretation of Paul’s Letter to the Romans, in particular Chapter 13. Indeed, this is the text used to support government more generally. In Part 2, Chapter 2, Lasserre’s analysis of Romans 13:1–7 is surgical. He recognizes that this passage is the “magna carta” for those justifying Christian participation in war, but he argues that the traditional interpretation is a total “hijacking” of Paul’s intent.
Lasserre’s critique hinges on a sharp distinction between the judicial function of the state and the military function of an empire. In particular Lasserre points to the imagery of the sword as a symbol of police power.
Lasserre points out that the “sword” mentioned in Romans 13:4 is the machaira. In the Roman context, this was the symbol of the ius gladii, the right of a magistrate to execute justice or maintain internal order. For Lasserre, the police function is individualized. It targets a specific lawbreaker, operates under a defined law, and seeks to protect the community by stopping criminals. War is collective. It targets entire populations (guilty and innocent alike), operates outside of a common law, and functions through “total destruction” rather than “measured justice.”
Lasserre argues that you cannot logically jump from “the state has the right to arrest a thief” to “the state has the right to carpet-bomb a city.” I would, and have argued that the misinterpretation of Romans is so great that the text cannot support the existence of a government at all, as Paul is making descriptive statements not normative ones.
However, from the lens of Christian Pacifism and my own perspective, the “sword” is viewed as a description of civil function, not a moral mandate for believers to set aside the commands of Jesus.
Lasserre, for his part, insists that Paul’s command to be “subject” to authorities is not a command for unlimited obedience. We can be “subject” to a government (paying taxes, respecting laws) without participating in its sins. If the state commands a Christian to do something that violates the command to “love your neighbor” (which Paul repeats in Romans 13:8–10, immediately following the passage on the state), the Christian must choose the “Higher Law.”
Lasserre tackles the phrase where Paul calls the magistrate a “servant (diakonos) of God.” He argues that the state serves God’s purposes unwittingly by preventing total anarchy, much like Nebuchadnezzar was called God’s servant in the Old Testament.
However, being an “unwitting servant” of God’s providential order does not mean the state’s violent actions are “holy” or that Christians should join in them. The state’s role is to manage the “fallen world,” while the Christian’s role is to embody the “coming Kingdom.”
Lasserre’s most cutting point is that war actually destroys the very “order” that Romans 13 says the state is supposed to protect. If the state’s job is to protect life and punish the “evil,” war is a failure of that mission because it kills the innocent and empowers the “evil” of hatred and chaos. As Lasserre says, “To use Romans 13 to justify war is to use a passage about maintaining order to justify the supreme disorder of human history.”
However, from the lens of Christian Pacifism and the specific perspective that I have tried to offer on this site, the “sword” is viewed as a description of civil function, not a moral mandate for believers to set aside the commands of Jesus.
A core argument in pacifist hermeneutics is that chapter divisions are man-made. Romans 13 follows immediately after the explicit commands of Romans 12:19–21: “Beloved, never avenge yourselves… if your enemy is hungry, feed him.” “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
It is logically inconsistent to suggest that Paul commands individual Christians to “turn the other cheek” in verse 21, only to authorize them to “pick up the sword” in the very next sentence. Therefore, the “sword” in Chapter 13 describes the world’s system, a system the believer has been commanded to transcend.
The theological perspective that I embrace emphasizes a radical, literal obedience to the words of Jesus (the “Sermon on the Mount” ethics). This perspective often centers on these points: There is a sharp distinction between the “Kingdom of this World” and the “Kingdom of God.” The state uses the sword to maintain order among the unregenerate. However, the disciple of Christ belongs to a different kingdom with a different set of weapons (spiritual ones). In fact, I reject the two Kingdoms as nonsensical for followers of Jesus, as there is only the task of God’s Kingdom breaking into this world.
In the Greek context (machaira), the sword was a symbol of judicial authority and tax enforcement, not necessarily an endorsement of military slaughter. True “obedience” means following Christ’s example of suffering love. If a believer uses violence, they are essentially saying that Christ’s way of the cross is insufficient for dealing with evil.
Romans 13 calls the ruler “God’s servant” (diakonos). Pacifists point out that God also called the pagan King Nebuchadnezzar and the Assyrian Empire His “servants” or “instruments.” God uses the “sword” of the state to restrain total anarchy in a fallen world. Just because God uses an institution to maintain order does not mean His children should participate in the violent aspects of that institution. The state’s role is to provide a “quiet and peaceable life” so that the Church can do its actual work: preaching the Gospel of peace. I would also diverge from this part of traditional pacifist theology and offer the point that the state is incapable of providing a “quiet and peaceable life” as it is itself an entity of mass violence. Hence my linking of peace and anarchy.
Romans 13 is a call to submission, not a call to participation. A Christian can submit to a government’s authority (by not rebelling) without personally wielding the weapons of that government. Again, this is descriptive, not normative.
The Sword (Again) at Gethsemane
Another key text offered by the justifiers of violence is Luke 22:35-38. In this text Jesus tells his disciples, “But now if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one.” This passage is the “go-to” text for those arguing that Jesus authorized self-defense or even armed revolution.
However, from the perspective of Christian pacifism and the radical obedience theology of peace this “violent” interpretation is seen as a fundamental misunderstanding of Jesus’s irony and the fulfillment of prophecy.
The most vital piece of evidence is found in verse 37, where Jesus explains why they need the swords:
“For I tell you that this Scripture must be fulfilled in me: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors.’”
The argument is that Jesus did not want the disciples to use swords; he wanted them to be seen with swords. To the Roman and Jewish authorities, a group of men carrying weapons looked like a band of insurrectionists (transgressors). Jesus was intentionally setting the stage to be legally classified as a criminal to fulfill the prophecy of Isaiah 53:12.
When the disciples produce two swords, Jesus responds, “It is enough” (v. 38). The pro-violence crowd interprets this as “Two swords are sufficient for defense.”
The pacifist view argues that two swords are laughably inadequate to defend twelve men against a Roman cohort. Instead, “It is enough” is an idiom meaning “Enough of this talk!” or “That’s plenty for the symbolic purpose I intended.” Jesus is closing a conversation they have clearly misunderstood.
The strongest argument against the violent interpretation is what happens just hours later in the Garden of Gethsemane. When Peter actually uses one of those swords to cut off the ear of Malchus, Jesus does not cheer him on. He:
- Rebukes him: “Put your sword back in its place…” (Matthew 26:52).
- Warns him: “…for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.”
- Heals the victim: Jesus’s last miracle before the cross was repairing the damage caused by a disciple’s “self-defense.”
From the pacifist perspective, if Jesus meant for the swords to be used for protection, Gethsemane was the moment. His rejection of Peter’s violence proves the swords were never intended for combat.
The “Whip of Cords”
A common argument against the pacifist position is that Jesus “armed” himself. However, a closer look at the Greek text (specifically in John 2:15) reveals a different intent:
Most translations and the Greek syntax suggest the whip (phragellion) was used specifically to drive out the livestock (the sheep and cattle), not to scourge the people.
“Cords” or “rushes” (schoinion) refers to the bedding or packing material found on the floor. This wasn’t a weighted Roman lash designed to draw blood; it was a makeshift tool used to nudge animals, much like a shepherd’s staff.
Pacifist scholars make a sharp distinction between disciplined force and injurious violence:
- Force: Moving a table, opening a cage, or herding an animal.
- Violence: The intent to harm, maim, or kill a person.
There is no record in any of the four Gospels of Jesus striking a single human being. In fact, if Jesus had physically assaulted the merchants in the high-security environment of the Temple (guarded by the Levites and overlooked by the Roman Antonia Fortress), he would have been arrested on the spot for assault or rioting. The fact that he wasn’t suggests his actions were perceived as a prophetic protest, not a physical attack.
For those of us focused on literal obedience, the cleansing of the Temple is about Theocracy vs. Personal Retaliation.
Jesus possessed prophetic authority. Jesus was acting as the Son in His Father’s house. This was a unique, messianic claim to authority over the Temple. It does not give a “blank check” to the individual Christian to use violence in their personal lives or for political ends.
Jesus was protecting the outsider. The moneychangers were set up in the “Court of the Gentiles.” By clearing the space, Jesus was removing the barriers that prevented the “nations” from praying. His “violence” was directed at injustice and religious corruption, yet it remained non-lethal and redemptive.
Jesus was acting consistently. If Jesus used violence here, he would be contradicting his own commands in the Sermon on the Mount. Since “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever,” his actions in the Temple must be interpreted in a way that aligns with his command to “love your enemies.”
The ultimate pacifist argument regarding the Temple is what follows. When the authorities later come to kill Jesus, he does not “cleanse” the soldiers or the Sanhedrin. He allows himself to be led like a “lamb to the slaughter.” If the Temple cleansing was a signal that violence is acceptable, the Cross would be an inexplicable failure. To the pacifists, the Temple cleansing was a shout, but the Cross was the final word.
Conclusion
As Lasserre points out in this section, and as I have added, there is no place in Scripture where Jesus took up arms or used violence in any way. The standard “proof-texts” that are offered by those seeking to justify violence in the name of our Lord fall flat upon even a cursory examination. The rampart of nonviolence remains unbreeched by the blasphemers of blood.
Praise Be to God
