Luke 23:35-43 tells us that Jesus was rejected by his own people, by the Roman soldiers, and by a fellow-sufferer because he would not use his power to defend himself or anyone else from oppression and death.  

Note that Jesus had told Pilate, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” 

In light of the way Christ explained his kingship, we cannot avoid asking the question: “Can anyone who fights under the flag of war claim to be fighting under the banner of Christ the King?” We don’t like to face this question. Even to ask it makes us feel that we are dishonoring the heroes who died in defense of our country and showing disrespect for all the dedicated, idealistic men and women who serve in the ranks of the military today. Are we saying that a Christian cannot be a soldier?  

The Church does not say this—not since the fourth century, at least. Popes have praised and commended the military profession. In The Gospel of Life, even St. Pope John Paul II seems to contradict his own principles by justifying war and lethal self-defense. Those trained to the precise scrutiny of theological documents would have to say it is not clear whether he actually defended defensive killing, or just ingeniously avoided the question. But the bottom line is that there is no definitive, magisterial Church teaching that unambiguously condemns either lethal self-defense, the hypothetical “just war”, or the military profession as such. Nor is there anything in the Gospels that justifies or approves any one of them. 

So, is it a sin to be a soldier? To ask the question is to fall into the “Catholic trap” of seeing everything in either-or terms as black or white. John Paul II recognizes that there may be gray areas between committing outright sin and embracing fully the ideals to which every Christian is called. Perhaps these are found in those “situations in which values proposed by God’s Law seem to involve a genuine paradox, where conflicting values are difficult to reconcile in practice.” 

In two structurally parallel passages of Matthew 19 (3-12 and 16-26), Jesus gives two teachings his disciples perceive as impossible. In the first, he abolishes divorce, and his disciples say to him, “If such is the case of a man with his wife, it is better not to marry.” Jesus doesn’t back down. He just says, “Not everyone can accept this teaching, but only those to whom it is given… Let anyone accept this who can.”  In the second, he says that being rich and being Christian are incompatible. 

Again, Jesus doesn’t mitigate his teaching. He just says, “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.” 

We cannot say that, by Catholic teaching, it is always a sin to fight in a war. But there are questions we must consider: Is it possible for a Christian to fight any war explicitly “for God and country?” Is there anything we can do “for God” that involves killing his other children to achieve it? If Jesus would not let his followers fight to save his own life, can his followers today fight “for God and country” in defending American lives? God certainly does not want anyone to be killed by unjust aggressors. But if Christ does not define his kingship as protecting lives and property by bloodshed, can we shed blood under the banner of Christ the King? 

The simple fact is that Jesus did not and would not have killed to save anyone’s life while he was on earth. Now that he has ascended into heaven, does he want to use the bodies we gave him in Baptism to do what he refused to do in the body Mary gave him at the Incarnation? Can we really ask Jesus to kill anyone “with us, in us, and through us”? If we do believe that killing can be the “lesser of two evils,” do we believe we can kill in character as members of Christ’s body on earth?

Action: Pray about what it means to be in the service of Christ the King.  In private and public life, try to replace all violence—in word or deed—with the power of truth and love. 

— Fr. David M. Knight

View today’s Mass readings, Lectionary #162, on the USCCB website here

Fr. David M. Knight (1931-2021) was a priest of the Diocese of Memphis in Tennessee, a prolific writer, and a highly sought after confessor, spiritual director, and retreat master. He authored more than 40 books and hundreds of articles that focus primarily on lay spirituality and life-long spiritual growth.