Many sincere Christians continue to teach and practice “just war” — that under certain circumstances, killing in defense of self or country is acceptable and therefore “just.” This belief is often rooted in a desire for justice, social order, and the protection of the innocent.
However, when we turn to the teachings of Jesus and the apostles, a very different picture emerges — one that challenges the entire foundation of Christians being prepared to use lethal violence against the enemy.
A major source of confusion comes from mixing the priorities of earthly nations with the calling of the Christian. Jesus makes a clear distinction when he is confronted by a politician, the Roman governor Pilate:
“My Kingdom is not of this world. If my Kingdom were of this world, then my servants would be fighting…” (John 18:36)
His point is that the nations of this world fight wars. That is what they do. But Jesus explicitly says that his servants, Christians, do not fight, because his Kingdom does not belong to or originate from this world-system. His servants are citizens of a totally different Kingdom that is yet to come. Their loyalty is not ultimately to any present nation, but to God’s holy nation. Therefore, they do not fight as the people of this present evil age do.
In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus leaves no room for misunderstanding about how we are to treat our enemies:
“But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44).
Jesus does not say, “Do not kill your enemies unless it is just,” that is, necessary to do so. The command is unqualified and unconditional: “Love your enemies.”
Period.
It should be obvious that love and killing are fundamentally incompatible. One cannot actively seek to love another person while being prepared to kill them. The two are mutually exclusive actions and lead, in opposite directions, either toward or away from the obedience of faith.
Jesus reinforces this principle at the moment of his arrest when he rebukes Peter:
“Put your sword back into its place; for all those who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matthew 26:52).
Even in a situation of profound injustice — where the Son of God himself is being wrongfully arrested — lethal violence is rejected. Jesus does not permit his followers to fight, echoing his words to Pilate in John 18: “My servants would be fighting.”
Later, 1 Peter 2:23 reminds the church that:
“When he was insulted, he did not insult in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but entrusted himself to the one who judges justly.”
That is, Jesus did not retaliate, did not even threaten, let alone seek to defend himself — or have others defend him — through lethal, violent means. Instead, he chose to trust God because, as Paul later reminds the church at Corinth, He is “the One who resurrects the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:9). If Christians are called to follow in his steps, then the use of lethal violence against others stands in direct contradiction to the example he set.
The apostles continue this same teaching without qualification:
“Repay no one evil for evil… never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God.”
“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:17-19, 21).
Again, there are no exceptions, no qualifications to these commandments. Paul does not say, “unless it is a just war,” or “unless the enemy is trying to kill you, your family, or your neighbor.” The command is absolute — do not repay evil with evil. Killing, for any reason is, at its core, repaying evil with evil. It is responding to lethal violence with that same violence. Yet Paul calls Christians to a completely different response: overcoming evil with good. And like love and kill you cannot do evil and good at the same time. Paul echoes his teacher, who told the people in the Sermon on the Mount:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, do not resist an evil person. If someone slaps you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek to them as well” (Matthew 5:38-39).
This explains why, later, in Ephesians 6:12, Paul says that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”
Paul explicitly tells us that our conflict is not against other human beings. “Flesh and blood” refers to people — those we might otherwise label as enemies in war or self-defense. The point is simply this: if our battle is not against people, then killing people cannot be part of that battle. The Christian’s warfare is spiritual, not physical. It is fought with truth, faith, perseverance, and the gospel of the Kingdom — not killing, for any reason. To kill another human being is to act against the very category Paul excludes from our struggle.
In sum, our enemies are not fellow human beings (Ephesians 6:12), because even the enemy bears the image of God (Genesis 9:6). Instead, we are commanded to love our enemies (Matthew 5:44), not to repay evil with evil (Romans 12:17). We are to model the absolute nonviolent example of Jesus (1 Peter 2:23), because we belong to a Kingdom whose servants have been, for the time being, commanded not to fight (John 18:36).
The idea that a Christian can take the life of another person — in war or self-defense or that of others — cannot be reconciled with these teachings. Instead, the follower of Jesus is called to a higher standard: not to take life, but to lay it down if need be, even for his enemies.
In this present evil age, this calling seems not only radical but ludicrous. But it is precisely this obedience of faith that best reflects the person we are said to represent when we call ourselves “Christian.”
