He entered and plopped into a chair. "How’d you know it was me? You didn’t turn your head."

"You said ‘Knock, knock,’" I smiled. "That’s your signature greeting. What’s up?"

"Professor Theophilus, do you think it’s wrong for a Christian to go to war?"

I noticed Javier’s regulation haircut and remembered a previous conversation. "Does this question have something to do with your being in the Army Reserves?"

"Yes." He paused. "See, I’m the first one in my family to go to college, and I only signed up with the Reserves for the educational benefits."

"Didn’t you ever ask yourself what you thought about war?"

"Well, no. Everybody said the Cold War was over. It never occurred to me that I might actually have to fight!"

"Now troops have been committed to Franistan, and if your Reserve unit is called …"

"Right. I’ll be carrying a gun. And I want to be sure I’ll be doing the right thing."

I raised an eyebrow. "The next time you commit your life to an organization, Javier, wouldn’t it be a good idea to decide whether you agree with its principles first?"

"Man, would it! But better late than never."

"Okay, tell me what you’ve been thinking so far."

"God commanded wars in Old Testament times, right? And it stands to reason that sometimes a government has to use force to put down what’s bad. But then God says in the Ten Commandments, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ And in the New Testament, Jesus says ‘All they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.’ I’m confused."

I opened a Bible on my desk. "You quoted the traditional wording of the Sixth Commandment, Javier, but take a look at how it reads in this modern translation."

"You shall not murder," he read. "I don’t get it. Aren’t killing and murdering the same?"

"No. Murdering is deliberately taking innocent human life. It also includes taking guilty human life, if the authority isn’t yours, because punishment is the responsibility of public officials, not vigilantes."

"What about Jesus’ saying that those who take the sword shall perish with the sword? Doesn’t that mean even public officials should lay it down?"

"Some Christians have thought so. For most of the Christian era, though, most have believed that Jesus meant something else – that we should never take the law into our own hands, never try to bring about the Kingdom of God by worldly means, and never put our ultimate trust in violence. After all, Paul ought to have understood what Jesus meant, and he didn’t condemn the use of force by public officials. He said that the ruler ‘does not bear the sword for nothing. He is God’s servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.’"

"Then war and capital punishment are okay?"

"Let’s say they might be okay. Sometimes rulers do wrong, too."

"So when are they wrong and when are they right? Start with capital punishment."

"For capital punishment to be right, the guilty person would have to be convicted of a real crime in a fair trial, and the punishment would have to be fitting. Both the trial and the punishment would have to be carried out by public authority rather than private vigilantes. Even then it might be better to avoid capital punishment, if there were another way to punish the criminal and to keep him from doing further harm."

"Do you think there’s another way?"

"A big debate is going on among Christians in our country about that. I’d be glad to tell you my view, but …"

"Never mind, Prof," he interrupted. "I shouldn’t have asked for details about something I should discuss with you another day. Since I might have a gun in my hands soon, let’s get back to the subject of war."

"Okay. Christian thinkers have been sharpening the criteria for distinguishing justified from unjustified wars for centuries."

"Do you mean criteria like ‘War may be waged only in self-defense’?"

"No, a criterion like that would make it wrong to come to the aid of your neighbor. I mean criteria like public authority, just cause and right intention."

"What do those mean?"

"The first one means that only a legitimate government may wage war. Vigilantes and terrorists can’t do it. The second one means that war may be waged only to save innocent life, to make sure people can live decently, and to protect their natural rights. The third one means your just cause has to be your actual reason for going to war."

"Is that last criterion like saying that it isn’t enough to do the right thing – that you have to do it for the right motive?"

"Exactly. The next three criteria are probability of success, comparative justice and proportionality."

"I suppose probability of success must mean that even with good reasons, it’s wrong to start a war you know you’re going to lose."

"Right."

"But I can’t guess the other two."

"Comparative justice means that the evils you’re fighting against have to be bad enough to justify killing, and proportionality means that you have to have good reason to think the war will stop more evil than it causes."

"What kinds of evils are we talking about, Professor T?"

"All kinds of evils. Not just physical evils like bodily death or suffering, but spiritual evils too."

"You mean like becoming morally corrupt or losing faith in God?"

"Right. Finally, there is the criterion of last resort."

"I can figure that one out. You shouldn’t go to war until you’ve tried everything else. Right?"

"Right."

"Is that the final criterion for when it’s okay to go to war? Because I have a question."

"Yes. Ask it."

"When you were explaining the comparative justice principle, I noticed that you didn’t say the evils you’re fighting against must be bad enough to justify murder – you said they must be bad enough to justify killing. Why?"

"That’s because murder is always wrong, even in wartime. The idea of these criteria isn’t to figure out when murder is okay, but to figure out when killing is murder and therefore wrong. Christians are not allowed to say ‘Let us do evil that good may result.’ That’s the world’s way of thinking. Our job is to do the right thing, and let God take care of the results."

"I think I see that," Javier said slowly. "But here’s what I don’t get. If a particular war is justified, then in that case it’s okay to kill the enemy, right? So how can an act of killing in wartime ever be murder?"

"Easy. For example, it’s one thing to shoot soldiers, but it’s another thing to blow up schoolbuses. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, I understand that."

"The underlying principle is called discrimination: it says that directly intended attacks on non-combatants and non-military targets are always wrong. Of course bombs don’t always go where you want them to, but even accidental harm to non-combatants and non-

military targets should be avoided."

"Isn’t this principle different from the others you mentioned, Professor Theophilus? All of the other seven were about when it’s right to go to war, but this one is about how to fight when you do go to war."

"You’re right. And there are at least two more limits on the right way to fight. You see, two of the principles we’ve already discussed have a double role."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember the proportionality principle?"

"Yes, of course."

"Applied to the question of whether to fight, you recall, it says you can’t begin a war which would bring about more evil than it stopped – but applied to the question of how to fight, it says you can’t use a tactic which would bring about more evil than it stopped."

"Oh, I see that. What’s the other principle that has a double role?"

"Right intention. Remember that one?"

"Yes. It says the just cause must be your actual reason for going to war. It’s like saying that you should only go to war to bring about a just peace. Right?"

"I couldn’t have put it better. Now apply that principle to the question of how to fight."

"I guess you shouldn’t use any tactic that would prevent a just peace."

"Exactly. So even though you’re trying to win, you shouldn’t commit any act or make any demand which would make it more difficult for your enemies to reconcile with you some day."

"Man! My head is spinning. You don’t make these decisions easy, do you?"

"They’re not easy, but that’s not my doing. War isn’t the solution to sin, you know. Jesus Christ is the solution to sin. Fighting injustice is necessary, but carries its own temptations to do wrong."

"I’ll go think about Franistan," said Javier. He smiled wryly, then offered me a little salute. I hesitated, smiled back, then made the sign of the Cross.