Abstract
The articles in this issue of Theology make important and timely connections. Bishop Stephen Platten makes connections between theology and architecture, Andrew Hayes between theology and film, and Professor David Jasper between liturgy and ecumenism. All three also write in admirably jargon-free prose. This is ideal for Theology. I hope that you enjoy reading them and that perhaps you might be tempted to make other theological connections for readers of Theology to enjoy in future issues. I am afraid that the gender balance of the January issue has been lost, but, as I mentioned in my editorial then, I am very keen to get new contributions from women as well as men, as well as from younger scholars (such as Andrew Hayes).
Dr Alan le Grys contributes the short article on ‘Difficult Texts’ this time, relating 1 Samuel 2.25 finally to the horrors of the First World War that started a century ago. War has also been a theme of some of Professor Nigel Biggar’s most important research. Appointed as Regius Professor of Moral and Pastoral Theology at Oxford University in 2007, he is emerging as an independent and challenging moral thinker in three different areas. His major book, entitled somewhat provocatively In Defence of War, was published by Oxford University Press (2013; 384 pp.: 9780199672615, £25.00 (hbk)). It is an essential book for all Christians to read if they are to make an intelligent contribution to the ethics of warfare. He has contributed a very significant article (soon to appear in the Journal of Medical Ethics) defending a theological approach within the public domain of medical ethics. And he has written the challenging article included in this issue of Theology on gay marriage. He too writes in admirably straight-forward and eminently logical prose.
Readers of Theology will have their own views about the propriety of gay marriage. I will let them decide for themselves. Instead they might prefer me to say something about Nigel Biggar’s book on war. Unusually for a theologian he admits to a fascination with military history and war cemeteries and he robustly defends the concept of a just war, concluding (at considerable length) that the Iraq war was indeed justified. This is a courageous stance to take when some of the most formidable theological voices (Stanley Hauerwas in the USA and John Milbank in the UK) are committed pacifists, and when many of those who are not pacifists denounced the Iraq war at the outset (including Rowan Williams, Duncan Forrester and Enda McDonagh). Even those few of us who did initially defend the Iraq war (Oliver O’Donovan included) did so very cautiously and soon became uncomfortable with the aftermath of that war. However, Nigel Biggar is more robust, entitling his introduction ‘Against the Virus of Wishful Thinking’ and his first chapter ‘Against Christian Pacifism’ (where he takes on Hauerwas at length, as well as the Mennonite theologian John Howard Yoder and the evangelical New Testament scholar Richard Hays). And he holds his own splendidly. He is well aware that ‘war is horrendous and that working to prevent its outbreak—even if in the end that should prove justified—is our first and most urgent duty’ (p. 1). He also admits that ‘no war waged by [sinful] human beings will ever be simply just’ and then adds ‘but that is not to say that no war can ever be justified’ (p. 3).
Using first-hand testimony from front-line soldiers in six wars, starting with the First World War (which, perhaps surprisingly, he reasons was not a disproportionate war), he argues that military violence is motivated more by love for comrades than by hatred of enemies. Soldiers can and do ‘regard their enemies with respect, solidarity, and even compassion’ (p. 91). Defending the principle of double-effect he argues that ‘military personnel ought not to intend to wound or kill their enemy—insofar as “intend” means “choose and want as a goal” rather than “choose and accept with reluctance”’ (p. 110). He also takes on those analytical philosophers who argue that just war theory is incoherent, arguing that it is not self-defence that is the paradigm of just war but ‘a punitive response to grave injustice, whether directed at one’s own people or another’s’ (p. 212). On this basis he defends Kosovo.
I suspect that he finally defends too much warfare that, plausibly, has blighted the last century. Perhaps this results from sheer frustration at so much well-meaning Christian writing in this area. Yet, whatever verdict is reached about the various arguments deployed by In Defence of War, this is a book that should sharpen the thinking of other theologians venturing into this crucial, and tragically still topical, moral minefield.