For the first three centuries of the Christian faith, the followers of Jesus were known for something remarkable: they refused to kill. In an age when the Roman Empire celebrated conquest, military honor, and the power of the sword, Christians taught that Christ's teachings called for a radically different way of life. They believed that the kingdom of God advanced not through violence, but through suffering love.
This early Christian stance differs significantly from much of modern political Christianity. Today, the church often aligns itself with national power, military force, and the rhetoric of war. In contrast, many early believers viewed following Christ as incompatible with shedding blood.
Recognizing this early Christian position is more than historical curiosity; it compels us to ask an uncomfortable question: how did the church shift from often refusing the sword to frequently blessing it?
The Teaching of Jesus
The starting point for the early church was not political theory but the teachings of Jesus Himself.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Christ spoke words that shocked the violent world of the first century:
“But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.” (Matthew 5:39, KJV)
And again:
“Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you.” (Matthew 5:44)
These teachings were not abstract moral ideals to the early Christians. They were commandments from the Lord; they had pledged to follow them.
When Jesus was arrested in Gethsemane, and Peter drew his sword, Christ rebuked him:
“Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.” (Matthew 26:52)
The earliest Christians remembered this moment well. If the Lord refused violence even to defend Himself, how could His followers justify violence to defend their interests?
Even before the church began writing theology, the New Testament itself already pointed in this direction. The apostle Paul wrote:
“Recompense to no man evil for evil… avenge not yourselves… be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:17–21)
For many early believers, the conclusion seemed obvious. Christians were called to overcome violence not with greater force, but with faithful endurance.
The Witness of the Early Church Fathers
The writings of early Christian teachers show that this view was widespread in the first centuries.
Justin Martyr (c. AD 100–165), an early Christian philosopher, wrote that Christ’s coming had changed how believers approached violence. Defending Christianity before Roman authorities, he said that those who were once violent now refused to wage war, even against enemies.
Justin pointed to the prophecy of Isaiah that nations would beat their swords into plowshares. He believed that prophecy was being fulfilled in the Christian community.
Another powerful voice was Tertullian (c. AD 160–220). Writing in North Africa, Tertullian argued that Jesus's teachings made military violence incompatible with Christian discipleship. Reflecting on the moment when Jesus commanded Peter to put away his sword, Tertullian concluded that Christ had effectively disarmed His followers.
For Tertullian, the issue was simple. A soldier must be willing to kill. But Christ commanded His followers to love their enemies. The two loyalties could not easily coexist.
Origen (c. AD 184–253) shared a similar view. He said Christians worked for society’s good—but not with weapons. Instead, they fought through prayer, righteousness, and spiritual struggle.
Christians, he said, had become “children of peace through Jesus.”
Perhaps the strongest early statement comes from Lactantius (c. AD 250–325). In his work Divine Institutes, he wrote that it is never lawful for a righteous man to kill another human being. Killing in war, he argued, could not be separated from murder.
Statements like these recur in early Christian literature. Not every believer lived by this ethic completely, but early Christian teaching leaned strongly toward nonviolence.
Martyrdom Instead of Retaliation
The conduct of the early Christians under persecution reveals just how seriously they took these teachings.
For nearly three centuries, the church existed without political protection. Roman authorities periodically persecuted Christians for refusing to worship the emperor or participate in pagan rituals.
Yet Christians almost never responded with armed resistance.
Instead, they endured imprisonment, torture, and execution. Stories of martyrs circulated throughout the church, inspiring believers to remain faithful even in the face of suffering.
When Polycarp of Smyrna was ordered to deny Christ in order to save his life, he famously replied:
“Eighty and six years have I served him, and he never did me any wrong. How then can I blaspheme my King who saved me?”
Polycarp did not fight his executioners. Like Christ before him, he accepted death rather than abandon the way of love.
This willingness to suffer instead of retaliate became a powerful testimony. Roman observers were often shocked that Christians faced death without hatred for their persecutors.
A Different Kind of Kingdom
A deep theological conviction underlay early Christians’ refusal of violence. They believed they belonged to a different kingdom.
When Jesus stood before the Roman governor Pilate, He declared:
“My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight.” (John 18:36)
For the early church, this statement defined their relationship to power. They prayed for rulers and obeyed the law when possible. But they did not believe the kingdom of Christ advanced through military force. transforming lives.
The Turning Point of Constantine
A major shift occurred in the fourth century with the rise of the Roman emperor Constantine the Great.
In AD 313, Constantine issued the Edict of Milan, which legalized Christianity and ended centuries of persecution.
For the first time, Christians were no longer outsiders in the Roman world. Instead, the church found itself closely connected with imperial authority.
As the church found itself connected to imperial authority, new moral questions arose: If the empire now had a Christian emperor, could Christians serve in the army, fight to defend society, or support the state waging war in the name of justice?
These new realities forced Christian thinkers to reconsider longstanding traditions.
The influential theologian Augustine of Hippo developed what later became known as the “just war” theory. Augustine argued that war might sometimes be morally justified if conducted by a legitimate authority for a just cause and with the right intention.
Augustine’s reasoning eventually became the dominant perspective in much of the Western church, replacing earlier approaches.
Yet many historians observe that this marked a significant departure from the pre-Constantinian church's posture. Whereas the church had once endured persecution without resorting to violence, it was now learning how to wield political power.
Remembering the Earlier Witness
Throughout history, various Christian movements have revisited the first three centuries as a model for the church’s stance on violence, seeking guidance from the early witnesses.
Seventeenth-century Quakers revived this perspective. Under George Fox, early Friends taught that Christ’s Spirit removes the roots of war from the heart.
In 1660, Quakers issued a declaration that became known as the Peace Testimony. In it, they rejected all outward wars and the use of weapons.
For them, this was not just a political position. It was a return to what they saw as the original teaching of Christ and the early church.
A Question for Our Time
The purpose here is not to glorify the past or ignore present complexities. War and politics raise hard questions that Christians have debated for centuries.
Yet, the early church’s witness challenges us to reconsider our assumptions today.
Early Christians believed that the cross—rather than the sword—showed God's power. They thought Christ’s kingdom grew through sacrificial love, not coercion.
In a world still marked by violence, their example is both unsettling and inspiring.
Perhaps the greatest question the early church leaves for us is this:
If the followers of Jesus once believed that loving their enemies meant refusing to kill them, what does faithful discipleship require of us today?
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