Caesar and the Lamb

by George Kalantzis

Through the available patristic writings Caesar and the Lamb focuses on the attitudes of the earliest Christians on war and military service. Kalantzis not only provides the reader with many new translations of pre-Constantinian texts, he also tells the story of the struggle of the earliest Church, the communities of Christ at the margins of power and society, to bear witness to the nations that enveloped them as they transformed the dominant narratives of citizenship, loyalty, freedom, power, and control. Although Kalantzis examines writings on war and military service in the first three centuries of the Christian Church in an organized manner, the ways earliest Christians thought of themselves and the state are not presented here through the lens of antiquarian curiosity. With theological sensitivity and historical acumen this companion leads the reader into the world in which Christianity arose and asks questions of the past that help us understand the early character of the Christian faith with the hope that such an enterprise will also help us evaluate its expression in our own time.

Genres: History, Theology, Church History, Politics, Christianity, Religion

248 pages, Paperback

First published September 24, 2012

About the author

George Kalantzis (PhD, Northwestern University) is professor of theology and director of The Wheaton Center for Early Christian Studies at Wheaton College. He is the author of Caesar and the Lamb: Early Christian Attitudes on War and Military Service and Theodore of Mopsuestia: Commentary on the Gospel of John, and he is the coeditor of Evangelicals and the Early Church: Recovery, Reform, Renewal; Life in the Spirit: Spiritual Formation in Theological Perspective; Christian Political Witness; and The Sovereignty of God Debate.

Reviews

[Kyle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kalantzis is a wonderful historian. This book puts early Christian thought on violence in its proper narrative context in the shadow of Rome. Also does a good job addressing some of Leithart's claims in 'Defending Constantine.'

[Paul, · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is really simple. It quotes lengthy passages from the writings of a lot of influential early Christian authors (pre- and circa-Constantine) on violence. There are some introductory chapters where Dr. Kalantzis sets the academic stage. The majority opinion right now is with the "many Christianities" group, trying to argue that just because a certain perspective on violence is the only one that survived does not mean that it was the only one or even the most popular one. I have to say, Kalantzis really crucifies that argument. To argue that only the unanimous opinion across multiple centuries, ethnic groups, cities, and written languages makes up some sort of philosophical elite ... well, that argument just doesn't hold water. The point this book makes is that pre-Constantine, there is really no argument. The position of the people of God is non-violence, no matter what. Non-violent meaning no capital punishment, non-violent meaning no war. Maybe even non-violent meaning no police.

I'm not one to say that everything the early church did was better. But the key idea that I took from this book was the way that these early Christians made the case for nonviolence. These were not people who were armchair theologizing about how God doesn't like violence, therefore other people should fight to keep me safe. They were incredibly bold. They said, "OK, Caesar. You go take your soldiers and fight, but we are going to the real work back here in prayer. We are the best soldiers you have by going to war in prayer for peace. And if you kill us for that, then that is great too. Because grace is more important than our lives. God gives us the victory even in death." Now, that's a bold claim. Almost every author quoted was martyred, or lost a family member as a martyr. Yet, they held non-violence as fundamental. "In disarming Peter, we are all disarmed". There is something contradictory about believing in grace by faith not by works, in believing that we were all enemies of God deserving death, that contradicts a desire to deal death to others. How can we be recipients of totally undeserved grace and be dealers of justice to others?

That is a bold position and difficult questions. They are worth thinking about. Here are a few of my favorite quotes.

Christians honored the emperor and the governors as his appointed authorities by following the example of Christ in refusing their consent and by submitting themselves to the consequence of their rejection, including scourging and death. That is what “rendering to Caesar what is Caesar’s” would look like in the new economy; a simultaneous “yes” and “no” that points back to God as supreme. In doing so, they overturned yet again the normative paradigms of the classical traditions and showed how, for the Christians, power is gained through submission. Martyrdom, then, was not the fate of the powerless, those finally forced to admit the grandeur of the state. Martyrdom was a witness to the state of its subordination to the God of heaven. (p.35)

"What emerges is a new call to non-violence, unrecognizable by the culture around them, for it took the form of civil disobedience as the mark of a transnational community bound together with the bonds of baptism. A community that honored Caesar by disobeying his commands and receiving upon their bodies the only response a state based on the power of the powerful could mete—in imitation of Christ."

Your injustice is the proof of our innocence. That is why God permits us to suffer all this. . . . [13] Yet, your tortures accomplish nothing, though each is more refined than the last; rather, they are an enticement to our sect [or: school]. We become more numerous every time we are hewn down by you: the blood of Christians is seed. . . . [15] For, who is not stirred by the contemplation of it to inquire what is really beneath the surface? And who, when he has inquired, does not [join] us? Who, when he has [joined], does not desire to suffer so that he may procure the full grace of God, that he may purchase from him full pardon by paying with his own blood? [16] For, by this means, all sins are forgiven. That is why we give thanks immediately for your sentences of condemnation.45 Such is the difference between things divine and human: when we are condemned by you, we are acquitted by God. (p.114)

At the core of the Christian message is love. This is not an ordinary kind of love, as one has for one’s kin. It is God’s love for God’s enemies. It is this love of God for the world, expressed in the divine self-giving through the incarnation of the Son that reconciles God’s enemies with the Triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.26 The result of that reconciliation is peace: God’s peace. A peace unlike any other. A peace, the world cannot recognize. A peace not based simply on the absence of conflict, but on the proactive love of one’s enemies as a first principle for the community that claims to have been born of this Gospel of Peace. (p.8)

It would be misleading, then, to read the accounts of the martyrs primarily as refusals by Christians to offer sacrifice, as their pagan counterparts did.43 On the contrary, almost sacramental in character, each of these accounts is a rich sacrificial narrative that rejects the dominant religiopolitical paradigm and reinterprets assumed perceptions of power dynamics. Martyrdom was a baptism in blood which brought forgiveness of sins to the martyr,44 and a eucharist, in which one drank the cup of sufferings of Christ (Matt 20:22). (p.24)

To these, Peter added: “For the Lord’s sake accept the authority of every human institution, whether of the emperor as supreme, or of the governors, as sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to praise those who do right . . . Honor everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God. Honor the emperor” (1 Pet 2:13–15). It was the same Peter, however, who, along with John, defined for the Christian community what “honoring the governing authorities” meant and how submitting oneself to the authorities was not to acquiesce to the demands of the state. Following the example of Jesus before the Sanhedrin and Pilate, Peter and John affirmed that obedience to the command of God superseded the orders of the state: “We must obey God rather than any human authority” (Acts 5:29; 4:19). With this seemingly simple declaration, the apostles exposed the true nature of the conflict and identified every other authority, secular or religious, as subordinate to God. The Good News of God’s imminent kingdom (Mark 1:15) were interpreted as “the rejection of one emperor, Caesar, by the proclamation of another, namely, Jesus” (cf. Acts 17:6) (p.34)

Christ, argued Origen in his seminal work Against Celsus, had taught his followers otherwise: “No longer do we take the sword against any nation, nor do we learn [the art of] war any more, since we have become sons of peace through Jesus who is our author instead of following the traditional customs, by which we were ‘strangers to the covenants’ [(Eph 2:12)].”1 Just a short forty years earlier, Tertullian had made a similar claim: “But how will a Christian go to war? Indeed how will he serve even in peacetime without a sword which the Lord has taken away? For even if soldiers came to John and received advice on how to act, and even if a centurion became a believer, the Lord, by taking away Peter’s sword, disarmed every soldier thereafter. We are not allowed to wear any uniform that symbolizes a sinful act.” (p.39)

Is it right to make a profession of the sword, when the Lord proclaims that he who takes the sword shall perish by the sword [Matt 26:52]? Will the son of peace [cf. Eph 6:15] take part in battle when he should not even go to court? [cf. 1 Cor 6:7]? Will a Christian, taught to turn the other cheek when struck unjustly [Matt 5:39; Luke 6:29], guard prisoners in chains, and administer torture and capital punishment? (p.122)

Moreover, we who by our prayers destroy all demons which stir up wars, violate oaths, and disturb the peace, are of more help to the emperors than those who seem to be doing the fighting. Christians do more good to their countries than the rest of mankind, since they educate the citizens and teach them to be devoted to God, the guardian of the city; and they take those who have lived good lives in the most insignificant cities up to a divine and heavenly city. (p.143)

[Ron Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Caesar and the Lamb is a thorough examination of the early Christian Church's relationship with the state and its worldly warfare. Kalantzis destroys recent claims that the early Christian Church's objection to Christian military participation was due primarily to pagan worship practices within the ranks, rather than a general aversion to engaging in violence, even against enemies. This work leaves the reader to answer a trichotomy: 1. Was early Church pacifism out of accord with the New Testament teachings on God's use of the civil magistrate for His purposes, 2. was early Church pacifism merely pragmatic (i.e. "love your enemies until you have the power to kill them"), or is early Church pacifism in accordance with the teachings of Christ and His apostles regarding enemy love and leaving vengeance to God?

[Bruce Hamill · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found this book helpful on several fronts. It provides thorough and substantive support for the sometimes contended view that the preConstantinian church rejected warfare and the military for broadly theological reasons. It challenges suggestions by Leithart et al that this pacifism might be understood in terms of a narrow rejection of cultic ritual associated with the military and locates this pre-Constantinian rejection in a wider engagement by the church with the life of the empire. Kazantzis offers extensive readings and analysis from the period. I thoroughly recommend it for contemporary Christians seeking to think theologically about violence, warfare, the military and empire.

[Jim Hudson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Changed my understanding on Christian attitudes to war. Until church and state were joined in Constantine, the universal rule by all the church Fathers was: you follow Jesus, you give up warfare.

[Daniel Hoffman · Rating 3 out of 5]

In this book, George Kalantzis tries to show that in the church’s first three centuries, the “Church spoke with remarkable unanimity against participation in war and military service.” He argues that despite evidence of there having been Christians serving in the Roman military during that time, as far as actual writings that we possess of the early apologists, theologians, catechesis manuals, etc, Jesus’ commands about enemy love were taken in pretty literal and absolute terms, such that even killing in war or carrying out capital punishment was considered impermissible.

About half the book is actually primary source documents, which Kalantzis provides introductions and context for. The longest of these come from Tertullian and Origen (late 2nd and early 3rd century), and a statement from Tertullian gives a good sense of what Kalantzis suggests was the basic and, as far as we know, universal position: “But how will a Christian go to war? Indeed how will he serve even in peacetime without a sword which the Lord has taken away? [Matt 26:52; etc]. For even if soldiers came to John and received advice on how to act, and even if a centurion [Cornelius] became a believer, the Lord, by taking away Peter’s sword, disarmed every soldier thereafter. We are not allowed to wear any uniform that symbolizes a sinful act.”

Some scholars have argued that the early Christians’ aversion to war was rooted primarily to the fact that Roman civil and military service was virtually synonymous with the rites and ceremonies of Roman religion. That is, you couldn’t really be a Roman soldier without being expected and required to take religious oaths to the emperor, sacrifice to the Roman gods, and so serving as a solider required participating in idolatry. This certainly was an issue for Christian writers, but Kalantzis tries to show that this concern can’t be neatly separated from the basic ethical concern with killing and violence itself. These writers weren’t naive either. Many of them were victims of persecution.

A few thoughts after reading it:

1) An absolute prohibition on the act of killing itself seems to me an unsustainable position biblically. First, the civil sword is acknowledged by Paul as a positive good—or at least a warranted necessity—in Romans 13:3-4. Kalantzis doesn’t provide any excerpts that exegete this text, though I’m sure they exist. Second, I can’t find it coherent to think “love your enemy” implies that (for example) if some crazed person attacks an innocent victim, and I’m in a position to intervene, I am morally required to stand aside and let him have at it. Expand that second point to a larger scale, and some version of “just war” seems a necessary conclusion, at least in theory.


2) But, I think far fewer wars than we’d care to admit really qualify as just war. And CERTAINLY wars within Christendom (whether the endless feuds in the Middle Ages, World War I, or whatever) conducted primarily between groups and nations that were officially and professedly Christian, are an embarrassing stain on the witness of the church.
 Of course, how a regular Christian citizen should respond when his country finds itself at war anyway isn't simple.

3) For some reason, the conservative Protestant church in America has turned the military into a thing to be celebrated, glamorized, and paraded. One does not have to be a pacifist (as I’m not) to wonder why we haven’t instead represented the military as more of a tragic even if honorable necessity, and been much more conscientious about what uses of it we support and do not support, and why. That attitude seems to me more in line with a biblical witness.



[Orion · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excellent resource. Read this one (pretty easy read) and keep it on the shelf as the invaluable resource it is.
Not 5 stars because:
1) A bit repetitive. The style is to summarize the group of texts and demonstrate how they added to the conversation about the Biblical doctrine of nonresistance; then to summarize each text with an introduction that repeats some of what the initial summary mentioned. On top of this, the entire first part of the book is a big overview that already makes all these arguments. So a lot of it is repetitive, but it's still helpful because it presents actual source documents, which are fascinating to read.
2) A lot more spelling errors than I'd expect from a book like this. I always find a few in pretty much any book I read, but this one had a lot more than normal. It's like they didn't actually use a human spellcheck editor.

[Widmer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Eye opening

This is an excellent read, and important for us today to remember how the early church radically responded counter-culturally. Society today is screaming for a solution to the division and violence. The way of peace according to the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the only true way, and it is the way of suffering, of bearing a sword which heals the wounded soul.

[Brayden Brown · Rating 4 out of 5]

A niche academic book but absolutely fascinating. Getting to interact with 1st-3rd century sources and see their unanimous perspective on the way of Jesus specifically as it relates to non violent enemy love encouraged me deeply and the shift when Constantine came to power was super interesting. To the world inflicting suffering brings power, to the follower of Jesus suffering IS power.

[Derek Kreider · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read a lot of books on this topic, but I think the author here does a great job in framing an argument for the causes of ideological shift and giving sufficient background to each of the authors and works presented.

[Tim Kennedy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great book that makes a case for Christian pacifism through early Church writings!