Dave Andrews

I would like to suggest while much Christian Theology traditionally supports the basic assumptions that make it possible to program soldiers to kill, a Christ-like Sensibility opposes those set of assumptions which make a social construction of killing possible.

Christian Theology	Christ-like Sensibility
Traditionally believes taking ‘an eye for an eye’ is biblical and therefore acceptable. And we should follow the bible.	Typically believes Moses said take ‘an eye for an eye’, but Jesus said ‘turn the other cheek’. And we should follow Jesus
Traditionally defines faith in Christ in terms of boundaries of belief and behaviour that need to be defended against others passionately.	Typically defines faith in Christ in terms of a choice to overcome any boundary of belief or behaviour that might prevent us relating to others  compassionately.
Traditionally encourages believers to disassociate themselves from others lest they be defiled through contact.	Typically encourages believers to associate themselves with others and work out conflicts face to face.
Traditionally teaches faith in Christ in terms of submitting to the authorities keeping the rules and obeying the leaders.	Typically teaches faith in Christ in terms of submitting yet subverting the authorities keeping some rules but breaking others and only obeying leaders up to a point.
Traditionally encourages believers to conform to the group in order to act with humility.	Typically encourages believers to not conform to the group in order to act with integrity.

Christian Theology traditionally aids and abets the training of men as killers by making it acceptable, if regrettable, to kill; increasing the distance between ‘us’ and ‘them’ so we do not see the humanity of the ‘other’; teaching us to submit to the authorities, keep the rules and obey the leaders; and encouraging us to conform to the groups that we happen to be a part of.

However a Christ-like Sensibility typically critiques and challenges the training of men as killers by saying it is totally unacceptable to kill anyone in any circumstance; decreasing the distance between ‘us’ and ‘them’ so that we see the humanity of the ‘other’- even our ‘enemies’; teaching us to submit yet subvert the authorities, keep some rules but break others and obey God over above and if necessary over against leaders; and encouraging us not to conform to the groups we happen to be a part of.

If we want to prevent the continued social construction of killing in our society, we need to help the ‘conscientious objector’ at the heart of ‘every healthy individual man and woman’:

1. be clear Christ calls us to be willing to die – but to not kill for our faith;
2. decrease the distance between ‘us’ and ‘them’ and see the humanity of the ‘other’- especially the humanity of our ‘enemies’;
3. submit yet subvert the authorities, keep some rules but break others and only obey if their demands reflect real love for our neighbours;
4. refuse to conform to group pressure, intensification of power and diffusion of responsibility which turn groups into killing machines

1. We need to be clear Christ calls us to be willing to die – but to never kill for our faith.

The patron saint of conscientious objectors must surely be the illustrious Martin of Tours.

Martin was born about 316 in Sabaria, in Hungary. His father was a tribune in the Imperial Horse Guard of the Roman Army, and named his son ‘Martin’ after ‘Mars’, the god of war.

Martin showed an interest in Christianity from an early age; but his father was suspicious of Christianity and discouraged his son from pursuing his interest. However, at the age of ten, against his father’s wishes, Martin went to the church, knocked on the door, and begged them to take him as a catechumen or candidate for baptism. In contemplative prayer, the young Martin said he found the spirituality he was looking for.

At the time, there was a law that made it mandatory for the sons of veterans to serve in the Roman Army. So, at the age of fifteen, Martin was forced to join the military. Martin refused to cooperate. He was put in chains until he promised he would take the orders he was given.  He was then assigned to a cavalry unit. While in the army, Martin tried to live like a monk rather than a soldier. As an officer, he was entitled to a servant, but he switched roles with his servant, cleaning his servant’s boots instead of the other way round.

Around 334, Martin was sent as an officer to do garrison duty in Gaul (now France). On one bitter winter day, while Martin – fully dressed in his warm military winter gear – was riding towards the gates of Amiens, he came across a ragged beggar – whose clothes were in tatters – freezing, half-naked, in the cold.  Martin was overcome with compassion. He took off his beautiful, white, lambs-wool, officer’s cloak, slashed it in two with his sword, wrapped one half of it round the beggar and then draped the other half back around his own shoulders. That night Martin had a dream. In that dream he saw Jesus wearing the half of the lambs wool cloak he had given to the beggar, and heard Jesus saying to the saints who were crowding round him: “Look at this cloak, Martin the catechumen gave it to me!” When he awoke, Martin went and got baptised straightaway. But it would be two more years before Martin could leave the legion and follow his vocation.

In the meantime, Martin struggled with the conflicting demands of trying to live as a ‘soldier of Christ’ in a Roman Legion. The conflict came to a head when the Franks invaded the northern borders of the empire, and Martin refused to fight, saying: “Put me in the front of the army, without weapons or armor; but I will not draw sword again. I am become the soldier of Christ.” His commander said he was more than happy to grant Martin’s his request; and put him in prison until he was ready to send Martin to the front.

However, the next day the Franks made peace; and Martin was discharged from the army. Martin became a bishop and continued his campaign against killing for the rest of his life.[i]

2. We need to decrease the personal and relational distance between ‘us’ and ‘them’ and to see the humanity of the ‘other’- especially the humanity of our ‘enemies’

Following in the footsteps of Martin were a bunch of soldiers on the front in World War I.

In 1914, amid the muddy trenches and flying shrapnel of the Great War, an unlikely reconciliation took place in the middle of combat. Trenches occupied by French and Scottish troops lay a few metres away from their German counterparts.

On Christmas Day a magical event occurred that would forever emblazon the history books with a moment of humanity in the midst of the brutality. The Germans placed Christmas trees above their trench, while Scottish bagpipers played along to the operatic voices they heard wafting over from the German camp.

Then, miraculously, the men from both sides climbed out of their trenches and met one another in No Man’s Land for a Christmas celebration. The enemies made friends, showed each other pictures of their lovers, and played soccer in the snow with one another.

When ordered to commence hostilities again the next day the men refused to fire on one another. The officers were disciplined and their units were disbanded.

3.  We need to submit yet subvert the authorities, keep some rules but break others and only obey leaders to the degree that their demands reflect real love for our neighbours.

Paying the price ultimate price to act like Martin was an unknown soldier in World War II.

‘In the Netherlands, the Dutch tell of a German soldier who was a member of an execution squad ordered to shoot innocent hostages. Suddenly he stepped out of rank and refused to participate in the execution. On the spot he was charged with treason by the officer in charge and was placed with the hostages, where he was promptly executed by his comrades. He responded in the crucial moment to the voice of conscience (refused to obey his orders) and those who hear of the episode cannot fail to be inspired’.[ii]

Dave Grossman says: ‘This – ultimately – may be the price of noncompliance for men of conscience. (In) overcoming obedience-demanding-authority and the instinct for self preservation, this German soldier gives us hope for mankind.’[iii] (emphasis mine) .

4. We need to refuse to conform to group pressure, the intensification of power and the diffusion of responsibility which turns groups of men (and women) into killing machines.

The best contemporary example of a Martin of Tours that I know is Bruce from Tasmania.

Bruce was brought up on a farm in Tasmania, where from a very young age he had used a rifle to shoot rabbits which, he says, were real pests on his family’s property.

When he was conscripted as a soldier to fight in the Vietnam War, Bruce joined the infantry, as he felt that as a follower of Jesus he should not use his conscientious objection to the war as an excuse to avoid the dangers other young men were being forced to face. However, as a follower of Jesus, Bruce decided that while he was prepared to face the dangers of combat with the unit he was part of, he was not prepared to pick up a rifle in anger, let alone fire it at anyone, regardless of how much pressure he was put under.

So Bruce went through basic training for the military at the Enoggera Army Barracks with a steadfast refusal to pick up his rifle. As you can imagine, Bruce was ridiculed, bullied, and abused right throughout his basic training. But his steadfast refusal to pick up his rifle under any circumstances was unshakable – his rock-solid resolve absolutely unbreakable.

Bruce told me in his typically-Aussie laid-back laconic style that the other men in his unit really gave him a hard time – until the day they had to do bayonet practice. Then, when they were confronted with the brutality of thrusting the bayonet on their rifle into the vital organs of a living breathing human being, they were forced to face the violence of killing. And that night, he said, they came to him quietly, one by one, and told him, that now they understood why he had taken the stand that he had. And never gave him a hard time again.

The war was over before his unit was sent to the front, so Bruce never had the chance to test his resolve in combat. But as most soldiers say that their fear of letting their unit down is greater than their fear of facing up to enemy fire, I think Bruce would have stood the test.

If we want to stop the continued social construction of killing in our society, I believe the best way we can do it is to advocate not mainline Christian Theology but Christ-like Sensibility  – the radical, sacrificial, nonviolent compassion of Christ – which is committed to the care of friends and enemies alike, over against the commands of the authorities and demands of their agencies to do otherwise.

Sources

Dave Andrews Christi-Anarchy, Tafina Press, Armidale 1999

Dave Andrews Not Religion But Love, Tafina Press, Armidale 1999

Dave Andrews People Of Compassion, TEAR Australia, Blackburn 2008

Dave Grossman On Killing Back Bay Books, Little, Brown and Company, New York 2009

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[i] Dave Andrews ‘Martin Of Tours’ in People Of Compassion TEAR Blackburn 2008 p7-9

[ii] Dave Grossman On Killing Back Bay Books Little, Brown and Company New York 2009 p227-8

[iii] p228