CHRISTIAN NON-RESISTANCE
by Adin Ballou
\tChapter 6\t
General Objections Answered
1. Impracticable until the millennium – Principles of the millennium – Extracts from Professor Upham – 2. Extremely difficult if not impossible – Hollowness of the objection – Battle at the passage of the Traun in Austria – 3. More difficulty in small than large matters – Illustrations: The profane swearer reproved and subdued – The Christian slave and his enemy – How to overcome evil – Henry C. Wright and his assailant – The victorious little boy – Colony of Practical Christians – The avenger stayed – Conclusion.
The present chapter will be devoted to the consideration and removal of sundry common objections to the doctrine of Christian non-resistance.
The Victorious Little Boy
I had the following anecdote from a gentleman of veracity. A little boy in Connecticut, of remarkably serious mind and habits, was ordinarily employed about a mechanic’s shop where nearly all the hands were addicted to the common use of intoxicating liquors. The lad had imbibed temperance principles, and though often invited could never be induced to partake with any of the shop’s crew. At length his teacher in the Sunday school, in conversation on certain non-resistant texts of scripture, had awakened his mind to that subject, and he very conscientiously avowed his determination to try to live in accordance with this great Christian doctrine. Three or four of the harder drinkers in the shop, somewhat piqued at such precocious piety and scrupulousness of conscience, resolved to humble the lad, or at least put his new notions to the test. They resolved to force a dram of rum down his throat by some means. Seizing an opportunity when he was left alone in the shop with them, they invited him to drink. He refused. They then told him they should compel him. He remained calm and unmoved. They threatened him with violence. Still he neither seemed angry nor attempted to escape nor evinced the least disposition to yield; but insisted that it was wicked and he could not do it. They then laid hold of him, a man at each arm, while the third held the bottle ready to force it into his mouth. Still their victim remained meek and firm, declaring that he had never injured them and never should, but that God would be his friend and protector, however they might abuse him. The man who held the fatal bottle, up to that moment resolute in his evil purpose, was so struck by the non-resisting dignity and innocence of the lad, that, as he afterwards confessed almost with tears, he actually felt unable to raise his hand. Twice he essayed to lift the bottle, as he placed the nose of it in the child’s mouth, hut his arm refused to serve him. Not the least resistance was made in this stage of the proceeding otherwise than by a meek protesting look; yet the ringleader himself was overcome in his feelings and gave over the attempt, declaring that he could not and would not injure such an innocent, conscientious, good hearted boy. Such is moral power. Such is the strength by which evil may, sometimes at least, be overcome with good.
Colony of Practical Christians
The following is another extract from the writings of Lydia M. Child. It needs no commendation. It will speak to the better feelings of the soul and leave its sweet odor there.
“The highest gifts my soul has received during its world pilgrimage have often been bestowed by those who were poor, both in money and intellectual cultivation. Among these donors, I particularly remember a hard working, uneducated mechanic from Indiana or Illinois. He told me he was one of thirty or forty New Englanders, who, twelve years before, had gone out to settle in the western wilderness. They were mostly neighbors, and had been drawn to unite together in emigration from a general unity of opinion on various subjects. For some years previous, they had been in the habit of meeting occasionally at each other’s houses to talk over their duties to God and man, in all simplicity of heart. Their library was the Gospel, their priesthood the inward light. There were then no anti-slavery societies; but thus taught and reverently willing to learn, they had no need of such agency to discover their duties to the enslaved. The efforts of peace societies had reached this secluded band only in broken echoes; and non-resistance societies had no existence. But with the volume of the Prince of Peace and hearts open to his influence, what need had they of preambles and resolutions?
“Rich in God-culture, this little band started for the far West. Their inward homes were blooming, gardens; they made their outward ones in a wilderness. They were industrious and frugal, and all things prospered under their hands. But soon wolves came near the fold in the shape of reckless, unprincipled adventurers; believers in force and cunning, who acted according to their creed. The colony of practical Christians spoke of their depredations in terms of gentlest remonstrance and repaid them with unvarying kindness. They went farther – they openly announced, ‘You may do us what evil you choose; we will return nothing but good.’ Lawyers came into the neighborhood and offered their services to settle disputes. They answered, ‘We have no need of you. As neighbors, we receive you in the most friendly spirit; but for us your occupation has ceased to exist.’ ‘ What will you do, if rascals burn your barns and steal your harvests?’ ‘ We will return good for evil. We believe this is the highest truth, and therefore the best expediency.’
“When the rascals heard this, they considered it a marvelous good joke, and said and did many provoking things, which to them seemed witty. Bars were taken down in the night and cows let into the cornfields. The Christians repaired the damage as well as they could, put the cows in the barn, and at twilight drove them gently home; saying, ‘Neighbor, your cows have been in my field. I have fed them well during the day, but I would not keep them all night lest the children should suffer for their milk.’
“If this was fun, those who planned the joke found no heart to laugh at it. By degrees, a visible change came over these troublesome neighbors. They ceased to cut off horses’ tails and break the legs of poultry. Rude boys would say to a younger brother, ‘Don’t throw that stone, Bill! When I killed the chicken last week, didn’t they send it to mother, because they thought chicken-broth would be good for poor Mary! I should think you’d be ashamed to throw stones at their chickens.’ Thus was evil overcome with good, until not one was found to do them willful injury.
“Years passed on, and saw them thriving in worldly substance beyond their neighbors, yet beloved by all. From them the lawyer and the constable obtained no fees. The sheriff stammered and apologized when he took their hard earned goods in payment for the war tax. They mildly replied, ‘Tis a bad trade, friend. Examine it in the light of conscience and see if it is not so.’ But while they refused to pay such fees and taxes, they were liberal to a proverb in their contributions for all useful and benevolent purposes.
“At the end of ten years, the public lands, which they had chosen for their farms, were advertised for sale at auction. According to custom, those who had settled and cultivated the soil were considered to have a right to bid it in at the government price; which at that time was $1.25 per acre. But the fever of land speculation then chanced to run unusually high. Adventurers from all parts of the country were flocking to the auction; and capitalists in Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston were sending agents to buy up western lands. No one supposed that custom or equity would be regarded. The first day’s sale showed that speculation ran to the verge of insanity. Land was eagerly bought in at seventeen, twenty-five, and forty dollars an acre. The Christian colony had small hope of retaining their farms. As first settlers, they had chosen the best land; and persevering industry had brought it into the highest cultivation. Its market value was much greater than the acres already sold at exorbitant prices. In view of these facts, they had prepared their minds for another remove into the wilderness, perhaps to be again ejected by a similar process. But the morning their lot was offered for sale, they observed with grateful surprise that their neighbors were everywhere busy among the crowd, begging and expostulating: ‘Don’t bid on these lands! These men have been working hard on them for ten years. During all that time, they never did harm to man or brute. They are always ready to do good for evil. They are a blessing to any neighborhood. It would be a sin and a shame to bid on their land. Let it go at the government price.’
“The sale came on; the cultivators of the soil offered $1.25; intending to bid higher if necessary. But among all that crowd of selfish, reckless speculators, not one bid over them! Without one opposing voice, the fair acres returned to them! I do not know a more remarkable instance of evil overcome with good. The wisest political economy lies folded up in the maxims of Christ.”
The Avenger Stayed
I will add one more impressive illustration, and close. I copy from the Advocate of Peace for April 1845, which appears to have quoted from The History of Danish Missions:
“The history of the Danish missions in Greenland is well known. Hans Egede, a man of apostolic benevolence and zeal, was the pioneer in those efforts to Christianize the wild and savage wanderer of the frozen north; and among his successors was his grand-son, Hans Egede Saabye, from whose interesting diary we select the following tale of vengeance sternly purposed, but graciously turned into love by the power of the gospel.
“The law or custom of Greenland requires every murder, especially that of a father, to be avenged by the nearest of kin. Some twenty years before the arrival of Saabye, a man was murdered under circumstances of great atrocity, in the presence of his own son. The boy, only thirteen years old, was too young to defend his father, but he did not forget the debt of vengeance due to his murderer. Fleeing for his own safety into a remote part of the country, he there fanned in his bosom the secret flame for twenty-five years, and waited only for an opportunity to let it burst forth in full and fierce revenge. The murderer was a man of so much influence, and surrounded with so many adherents ready for his defense, that the son feared to attack him; but having persuaded a number of his own relatives to accompany him, he started at length on his long cherished purpose of vengeance, and came in quest of his victim near the residence of Saabye. The houses in Greenland are a species of common property. The people quit them during their short summer, and on returning the next winter, take possession of anyone they may chance to find unoccupied. Winter was now beginning to stretch his icy arms over the north; but the avenger found no shelter for himself and his associates in the work of vengeance. Only one was vacant, and that belonged to the preacher of peace and forgiveness; but Saabye, though well apprized of his purpose, let him have the house, and treated him with his wonted courtesy and kindness. These attentions touched the avenger’s heart; and he came to thank Saabye, and repeated his visits so often that he apologized at length for their frequency by saying, ‘You are so amiable that I cannot keep away from you.’ After a lapse of several weeks, he said, ‘I should like to know something of that great Lord of Heaven, about whom you say so much; and some of my relations wish to learn too.’ Saabye granted his request, and found ten or twelve of the company anxious for instruction. He sent a catechist to live with them, and was much gratified at their progress, especially that of the avenger, who frequently left his fishing to hear instruction, and who at length resolved to ask for baptism.
“In the month of May, Kunnuk came to Saabye, and said, ‘Teacher, will you baptize me? You know I’m obedient. I know God; and my wife, as well as I, wishes to become a believer.’ ‘Yes,’ replied the preacher, ‘you know something of God. You know he is good; you see how he loves you and desires to make you happy; but he desires also to have you obey him.’ ‘I do love him,’ earnestly rejoined the avenger; ‘I will obey him.’ ‘But,’ answered Saabye, ‘if you wish to obey him, you must kill nobody. You have often heard his command, thou shalt not kill.’
“Kunnuk shook his head in great emotion, and only said, half to himself, ‘Hard doctrine; hard doctrine!’ ‘Hear me, good Kunnuk,’ continued the man of God. ‘I know you have come to avenge the murder of yow father; this you must not do if you wish to become a believer.’ ‘But,’ retorted the avenger with a flash of indignation gleaming from his eye, ‘he murdered my father, my own father! I saw it but could not help him; and now I must punish the murderer.’ ‘You grieve me!’ said the man of peace. ‘How?’ asked the avenger. ‘Because you seem resolved to murder.’ ‘Only him who deserves to die.’ ‘But the great Lord of Heaven says, thou shalt not kill.’ ‘I will not – only him.’ ‘But you must not kill even him. Have you forgotten how often during the winter, you heard this command: avenge not thyself, but rather give place unto wrath; for vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.’ ‘But,’ asked the avenger, ‘shall the wicked murder with impunity?’ ‘No, he shall not; God will punish him.’ ‘When?’ ‘Perhaps in this world; but certainly at the day of judgment, when he will reward every one according to his deeds.’ ‘That is so long,’ replied Kunnuk, ‘my countrymen and relations will blame me if I do not myself avenge my father now.’ ‘If you did not know the will of God, I should say nothing; but now I must not be silent.’ ‘This is hard!’ said the avenger. ‘What shall I do?’ ‘You must not kill him; you must even forgive him.’ ‘Forgive him!’ exclaimed the avenger. ‘Your doctrine is very strange and difficult.’ ‘The doctrine,’ replied the preacher, ‘is not mine, but Christ’s.’
“Kunnuk sighed deeply, but made no reply; and Saabye continued, ‘perhaps your father was not innocent; he too may have killed somebody.’ ‘As to that,’ replied Kunnuk, ‘I do not know. I only know that this man deserves to die.’ ‘Well,’ answered Saabye, turning to leave the avenger, ‘I have done. Kill him, if you will; but remain an unbeliever, and expect his children one day to kill you in turn.’ ‘You are amiable no longer,’ retorted the man of blood, ‘you speak hard words.’ ‘No, Kunnuk,’ replied the man of peace, ‘I love you still, and therefore wish you not to sin against God, who will do justice both to you and your adversary.’ Saabye turned to go; but Kunnuk cried after him, ‘Stay, teacher. I will speak to my relations.’
“His relations urged Kunnuk day after day to revenge, and threatened him with the curses of his kindred and the scorn of his countrymen if he shrunk from avenging his murdered father. The bosom of the son seemed a theatre of conflicting emotions. The preacher, in his visits to him, perceived the struggle, and, without taking any notice of the particular subject, read such portions of scripture and such hymns as led to peaceful and forgiving thoughts. Some days after, Kunnuk returned to the preacher. His countenance, his manner, every thing about him, indicated a violent struggle. ‘I will,’ said he, ‘I will not; I hear, and I do not hear. I never felt so before.’ ‘What will you,’ asked the preacher, ‘and what will you not!’ ‘I will forgive him, and I will not forgive him; I have no ears, and yet I have ears.’ ‘When you will not forgive,’ answered Saabye, ‘then your unconverted heart speaks, and would dissuade you; and when you will forgive, then your better heart speaks. Which will you obey?’ ‘I was so moved,’ said the avenger, ‘when you spoke yesterday, that my heart wished to obey.’ ‘See, then, ought you not,’ said Saabye, ‘to feel that it is the voice of your Heavenly Father speaking in your heart; he bids you to be like him, and he giveth sunshine and showers to his foes as well as his friends. Think of your Savior, too, and strive to resemble him. Did he ever hate his enemies or return their curses on their own heads? When smitten, did he smite back? When persecuted from city to city, did he return evil upon his persecutors? When led to the cross like a lamb to the slaughter, did he open his mouth? Yes; but it was to pray for his murderers: Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.’
“This appeal touched the avenger’s heart; a tear stood in his eye; and earnestly he replied, ‘Yes, yes, that was praiseworthy; but he was better than we.’ ‘Yes, infinitely better,’ rejoined Saabye, ‘but, if we have a good will, God will give us strength. Hear how a man like you and me can pray for his murderers.’ The preacher then read the martyrdom of Stephen; and Kunnuk, drying his eyes, said, ‘Wicked man! But he is happy; he is certainly with God in heaven. My heart is so moved; but give me a little time; and, when I have brought my other heart to silence, I will come again.’
“Soon Kunnuk returned with an altered countenance that spoke the peace and joy of his heart. ‘Now,’ said he, ‘I am happy. I hate no more; I have forgiven; my wicked heart shall be silent. Did you not see how moved I was when you read about him on the cross praying for his murderers? Then I vowed in my heart, I will forgive; I have forgiven. Now I hope I and my wife, who has never hated, may be baptized.’ His request was granted; and when the day arrived for the ceremony, he gave a simple and touching account of his faith; tears streamed from his eyes as he knelt for baptism; and, at the close of the service, he said, ‘Receive me now as a believer; I will hate no more; we will love each other, and all men.’ To the murderer of his father, he soon after sent a message, saying, ‘I am now a believer; you have nothing to fear.’ He even invited the murderer to his house, and received him in a most friendly manner. Being invited to return the visit, he went alone; but to show the heathen murderer in contrast with the Christian, Kunnuk found, on his way back, a hole cut in his kayak, or boat, for the purpose of drowning him. He soon stopped out the water, and said with a smile, ‘Ah! He is still afraid; but I’ll never harm him. Vengeance is no longer mine; I leave him to God, and pray that he may see his sins as I have seen my own.’”
Conclusion
Who can contemplate such practical exemplifications of Christian non-resistance as these, and not be ravished with the excellence and loveliness of the sublime doctrine! Can we turn around and gaze on the battlefield, the hospital of mangled mortality, the gaudy military parade, the pomp of blood-stained chieftains, or into the more ordinary affairs of life – on the scuffles, retaliations, resentments, duels, litigations, and endless quarrels of a world infatuated with resisting violence – can we look on these things without heart-sickness and disgust? How base, despicable and abhorrent are they all, compared with the spiritual heroism, the moral bravery, the glorious self-sacrifice, the life-preserving, heart-reforming, soul-redeeming works of genuine Christianity! “O, my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine honor, be not thou united.”
And shall those who ought to be “the light of the world” and “the salt of the earth” dishonor their high calling, and defile their garments, by engaging in the conflicts of human ambition, violence, and revenge? Shall they lust after the dainties of cannibalism, admire the splendors of martial idolatry, and delight themselves in the acts of mortal cruelty? If risen with Christ, ought they not to seek the things of Christ, inhale the perfumes of his Spirit, follow in his footsteps, and make it their supreme satisfaction to do the will of the Father? Is it for them to fly from the dangers of Gethsemane to look with despair from afar on the non-resistant cross, and to make themselves one with a mutually defiant and destructive world? Shall they see lions in the way, and fear to go forth? Shall they stand shivering like the sluggard because it is cold, and so neglect to plow? Does it become them to complain that the duties of love are hard, that non-resistance is impracticable, impossible, or extremely difficult, when its principle is so god-like, its spirit so heavenly, its exemplification so beautiful, its fruits so refreshing, and its achievements so glorious? What if it demands a strict discipline; what if it requires some severe exertions; what if it imposes some manly endurance; what if it offers an opportunity to perform some exploits of moral heroism; shall it therefore be unattractive to great souls? Nay, rather let it seem the more worthy of a holy and generous enthusiasm. Let its calls for volunteers appeal more thrillingly to a noble ambition – an ambition to be and do something worthy of our divine parentage – worthy of the love that has purchased our redemption with the tears and groans and blood of the cross – worthy of immortality – worthy of living and dying for. To save one life, to recover one lost brother, to make one heart holy and happy – or even to qualify ourselves by self-denial for the indwelling Spirit of the Highest – is infinitely more worthy of a whole life’s cares and vigils than all the wealth, pomp, and splendor which the world’s favorite destroyers ever acquired by the sword. “God forbid that we should glory in anything save the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
“How hardly man this lesson learns,
To smile and bless the hand that spurns;
To see the blow – to feel the pain,
But render only love again.
This spirit not to earth is given;
One had it – he came from heaven.
Reviled, rejected and betrayed,
No curse he breathed, no plaint he made,
But when in death’s deep pang he sighed,
Prayed for his murderers and died.” – Edmiston.
Continued: Chap. 7
