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I’ve been interacting with pacifists for quite a while and
noticed several patterns. Rather than
addressing any single author specifically, this post identifies the biggest
issues in whether pacifist framework clarifies the text or try to rewrite it.
While ambitious and addressing an important theme, many
contemporary “peacebuilding” readings tend to rely more heavily on modern peace
theory than on sustained scriptural exegesis. In many cases, key scriptural
figures are interpreted in ways
that often contradict their divine role as prophets, including the role of
rebuking as well as justified force in establishing or preserving peace.
The strongest sections of these approaches are those that
remain closely grounded in the scriptural text and offer direct analysis rather
than extended theoretical scaffolding. However, close scripture readings often
end up being only a portion of the argument. When that happens, interpretation
begins to derive from modern peace theory, instead of peace theory being
derived from scripture.
One consistent oversight is the role of rebuke in scripture,
both in the Old Testament and in the teachings of Christ. Prophets were repeatedly commanded to rebuke:
Nathan confronting David (“Thou art the man,” 2 Samuel
12:7), Elijah’s confrontation with Ahab (1 Kings 18), Isaiah’s prophetic
warnings (Isaiah 6), all fit in a tradition where prophetic calling includes
direct confrontation, not only reconciliation.
Christ himself continued this pattern:
He rebuked the Pharisees directly (Matthew 23), drove out
the money changers with force (Matthew 21:12–13; John 2:15–16), and pronounced both blessings and woes (Luke 6:20–26). Even his language toward Herod (“that
fox,” Luke 13:32) was not soft consensus-building.
And this didn't disappear in the apostolic era. Paul
rebuked Peter openly (Galatians 2:11–14). Peter rebuked Simon Magus (Acts
8:20–23). John sharply condemned false teachers in his epistles (1 John 2). The
apostles are not portrayed as avoiding conflict—they were commanded to teach,
expound, and exhort (D&C 20:42), and historically, most are understood to
have died violently because of uncompromising preaching.
Against that backdrop, criticizing Nephi (or any other prophet) for being harsh, seems a fundamental rejection of Nephi’s mission to call sinners to repentance. Nephi was not operating as a conflict mediator in the modern sense; he operated as a covenant prophet, including rebuke, warning, and at times justified force (1 Nephi 4; 2 Nephi 4-5). Readings that suggest Nephi or other prophetic figures ought to have adopted a more consistently “peacebuilding” posture risk missing the claims of the text itself.
A similar concern appears in readings of King
Benjamin. The text explicitly ties peace to both righteousness and
defensive action:
He “gathered together his armies… and did fight… with the
sword of Laban, in the strength of the Lord” (Words of Mormon 1:13–14). Yet
peace building interpretations minimize or ignore his use of the sword in favor
of peace building interpretations.
There is also a recurring issue where just war reasoning is
treated as if it necessarily implies sanctification through violence. In fact,
the only mention of just war is often to dismiss it or, provide a strawman of
the theory and then dismiss it.
But just war never makes the claim it is sanctifying.
Classical just war theory, as Augustine frames it in City of God (Book XIX), is
not about sanctifying violence but about acknowledging tragic necessity under
moral constraint in a fallen world. Treating it otherwise risks making a straw
man.
This becomes relevant in readings of Doctrine and Covenants 98 as well, where the Lord says: “I… would fight their battles” (D&C 98:37). The text shows divine sanction of defense, but it does not clearly construct a category of sanctifying violence. Expanding it in that direction goes beyond what the passage itself states.
A common argument is that responses to conflict worsen under
conditions of fear which leads to an escalating “cycle
of violence.” There are many problems with that theory, including ignoring
just and frequently repeated reasons for war. The argument also seems to cast
Nephi as a hapless figure who couldn’t master his fear when the Lord told him
to take the sword and get the plates. (In
How to Read the Bible and Still Be a Christian, Dominic Crossan makes a
similar claim about God.)
There are nuances in that story that could support the
author’s argument. For example, Lehi may have made a kind of sin offering when
Nephi returned (1 Nephi 5:9), but those key scriptures are often neglected in
favor of pacifist theory.
It also ignores other scriptures. Zeniff wasn’t “responding to fear” when he went to the land of Nephi but he was attacked anyway. The record shows someone naively unafraid and dangerously unprepared. He admits he was “overzealous” in seeing good in the Lamanites, failed to make weapons, trusted a “crafty” enemy, and nearly died for it (Mosiah 9:1–17). Only after the first attack did he arm his people (Mosiah 10:1). And the priests' emphasis on scriptural "good tidings" and "joy" when questioning Abanadi seem to indicate the people saw themselves as quit hopeful fullfilment of prophecy (Mosiah 12:21-24). This example of war being thrust upon non fearful people is aside from clearer passages clearly supporting the just use of force like Alma 43:47; 48:21–23; 61:12–14. Pacifists rarely mention these scriptures, and when they are they are minimized.
This neglect and radical reinterpretation of scriprures are major reasons why peace theory is rarely
convincing to those outside of a small group of pacifists. The framework feels
strained, even insulting, toward prophets,[1]
suggesting those who take up the sword are merely reacting in fear, rather than
acting as righteous, even brave leaders with scriptural support, defending
their families.
The claim that peacemaking is currently absent from LDS
discourse is overstated and a result of poor, existing pacifist scholarship. If
pacifists wish to frame the topic as understudied, it will help to acknowledge
possible reasons for hesitation, including concerns that contemporary peace
rhetoric often appear politically inflected or insufficiently attentive (or
just dismissive) of scriptural passages that affirm justified defense. They
often offer strained alternative readings that are unconvincing. Recognizing
these tensions would strengthen their analysis.
The strongest direction forward is not replacing scriptural
categories with contemporary peace frameworks, but letting scripture set the
terms, including prophetic rebuke, covenant judgment, repentance, and justified
defense. Any model that cannot hold those together risks rebuking the text it
claims to interpret.
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[1]
Speaking of insulting, pacifists often use the phrase, “moral imagination” when
discussing peace theory. As though traditional prophetic voices lack sufficient
moral vision for peacemaking. The phrase seems to imply implying that the pacifist
author’s theoretical commitments place them as a stronger moral arbiter than
the prophets themselves, which is not an argument most readers will find
persuasive. John Paul Lederach, The Moral Imagination: The Art and Soul of
Building Peace (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), ix.
