Pale Ebenezer thought it wrong to fight;
But roaring Bill who killed him
Thought it right.

Catholic essayist and wit Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953) aimed this jabbing verse at pacifism years ago in one of his best books, The Four Men.

One suspects Belloc would still be poking fun at pacifists, especially in light of the terrorist challenge. Despite September 11th, many pacifists such as the Jesuit John Dear have stuck to their guns, so to speak. And now with war heating up with Iraq, pacifists can be counted on to fight against the United States' continuing military efforts against terrorism.

Pacifism has a long history in Christianity. Pacifists trace their beliefs to Jesus's example and words, especially drawing on his Sermon on the Mount with its injunctions to turn the other cheek and love one’s enemy. St. Augustine of Hippo, however, said the theory of pacifism didn’t seriously appear for hundreds of years after Jesus's death, when it cropped up as part of a heresy known as Manichaeism in the fourth century. Pacifism has been a central tenant of a few non-Catholic bodies, including the Amish, Anabaptists and Quakers, and has gained influential advocates like Tolstoy. As a Catholic phenomenon, though, it was not very noticeable until the latter part of the twentieth century, when it gained prominent advocates like Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day, and the Berrigan brothers.

Pacifism still holds sway in some quarters of Catholicism today. Dear, for instance, wrote the following in response to the September 11th terrorist attacks: Jesus's “message remains the same: put down the sword, love your enemies, forgive those who hurt you, bless those who persecute you . . . In other words, practice nonviolence as he did. That means, practically speaking, we must renounce our violence, oppose U.S. military retaliation and speak out publicly for peace.”

The Catholic Church realizes that Dear’s words capture the highest ideals that ought to be reflected in a holy institution. But the Church has also long recognized that it is not only a holy institution, but also a practical institution that mediates between the exigencies of earthly affairs and holiness. It knows that the Sermon on the Mount’s ideals are largely impractical in a world stained by sin, so it strives to give practical advice that allows its members to follow the Sermon as closely as possible without getting slaughtered.

As part of this mediating function, it has opposed pacifism, favoring instead the doctrine of just war. Augustine was the first thinker to articulate the principle of a just war and it has been upheld throughout Catholic history and was recently reaffirmed in the Catholic Church's new Catechism—a product issued under the aegis of John Paul II, a pontificate that has probably come closer to embracing pacifism than any other pontificate in history.

The mere fact that it is possible to have a just war, of course, eliminates the legitimacy of absolute pacifism. The Catholic Church has been steady in its teaching: in certain circumstances, individuals and states have the right—indeed, the duty—to use violence.

The Church's apparent delay in articulating a just war theory (Augustine wrote four hundred years after Christ) has always given pacifists a wedge of argument: Perhaps the doctrine is an illegitimate accretion to dogma. Many pacifists have also claimed that the earliest Christians were pacifists; in support, they point out that the early Christians refused to serve in the Roman army. Most scholars, however, agree that early Christians refused to serve in the army because Roman soldiers were required to make sacrifices to the pagan gods. Moreover, early Christians did serve in the army, such as the soldiers of the Theban Legion who were massacred by Roman officials around the year 300 for refusing to offer such sacrifices.

Pacifism is arguably a heresy. Catholic political scientist Willmoore Kendall said of it: “Heretic, barbarian, parasite. That is the profane trinity that sums up the pacifist.” Most commentators, however, speak less harshly about it, hence the Catholic Encyclopedia says that “Catholic theology, although sympathetic to the concerns of pacifism, has never accepted its final conclusions . . .”.

Perhaps the best way to describe Catholicism’s attitude toward pacifism is by reference to paradox. The English writer (and Catholic convert) G.K. Chesterton revered paradox, saying it goes to the root of things by accepting mysterious inconsistencies planted in the very foundation of creation. Catholicism tries to accept such inconsistencies and to balance the resulting opposites. In the realms of war and peace, of violence and love, those paradox planted in our foundations grow into huge trees of resulting opposites. The Church hugs the tree of peace and love, and it abhors the tree of war and violence. But it knows war and violence exist and must be dealt with—with violent weapons like axe and fire, and not fed with the fertilizer of dead Ebenezers who refuse to fight.

Catholicism, in short, is a non-violent religion that teaches violence can be legitimate. It reveres life and mercy—but says at times it is necessary to kill and exact justice. It recognizes both the lion and the lamb and realizes they must co-exist. So it tells the lion to lie down with the lamb. But it does not tell the lion to become like the lamb and to abandon its ferocity. That, Chesterton observed, would be an act of violence against the lion.