Justified or Sanctified? Question About Violence, Faith and Zion
The other day, my daughter was reading the Covenant of Christ and came to the account of the Anti-Nephi-Lehies burying their weapons of war. She asked me a question about it that really got me thinking.
“Is that what we’re supposed to do? Or is it okay to be like the Nephites who protected them?”
I didn’t have a quick answer for her, and I don’t think that was a bad thing.
Some questions are meant to slow us down. Some questions expose a real tension in scripture that we would rather flatten into a simple rule. This felt like one of those. Because this isn't just a question about one story. It's a question about violence, self-defense, holiness, faith and what kind of people Zion requires us to become.
Her question also stirred an old memory. Years ago, I remember reading a comment on Denver’s blog from someone who was very much a Captain Moroni, Title of Liberty, Second Amendment kind of person. I understand that instinct. I share some of it myself. But I remember that the person was upset by Denver’s way of approaching self-defense, and as I recall, Denver’s response involved the distinction between justification and sanctification.
To be fully honest here, I don't remember the exchange exactly, so I'm not claiming to quote him or reconstruct it perfectly. But I remember that idea, and it has stayed with me for years. My daughter’s question brought it back and sent me down a rabbit hole I have found deeply fascinating.
The Core Distinction
Justification asks: Was this action permitted?
Sanctification asks: What kind of person am I becoming?
Justification can allow what sanctification eventually leaves behind.
The Importance of the Question
This isn't merely a matter of choosing between two scriptural examples as if they were interchangeable templates. It touches things that matter in real life.
- Are we justified in defending ourselves and our families?
- Is violence ever righteous, or only permitted?
- What does it mean to trust God in a dangerous world?
- Is Zion just a protected society, or a transformed people?
Scripture does something unsettling here. It doesn't give us one neat answer. It preserves both the defense of the Nephites and the surrender of the Anti-Nephi-Lehies. It shows that violence can be both permitted and transcended.
What Justification Is
At its simplest, justification means being declared right, or at least not condemned, within a law or circumstance. It answers the question: Was this action permitted, even if it was not the highest possible thing?
That's important because there are scriptural situations where God allows actions that clearly belong to a fallen world.
Captain Moroni is a strong example of this. He wasn't seeking domination. He was defending life, family, liberty and the right to worship. His use of force wasn't aggressive conquest. It was protective. In that setting, the Nephites were justified in fighting.
The same basic principle can apply to self-defense now. Protecting your family can be justified. There is such a thing as preserving life in a dangerous world.
But here is the part I think we often miss:
Justification means something is allowed without condemnation. It does not necessarily mean it is spiritually ideal.
Justification belongs to a world where conflict still exists.
One verse that seems relevant here, though not directly about violence, is JS History 16:7 It shows justification as something conditional, tied to whether one is acting within what God has required. This is key because it suggests justification isn't the final state. It isn't the same thing as fullness, transformation or holiness. Its a category that depends on circumstance and obedience.
“We know that justification through the grace of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is just and true…. and we know also that sanctification.… is just and true.… But there is a possibility that man may fall from grace.… yea, even let those who are sanctified take heed also.”
What I find striking about this is that justification and sanctification are placed side by side, and then a warning is given. Even those who are sanctified are told to “take heed.” That suggests that sanctification isn't just a higher state, it's also something that must be guarded.
And that sheds light on the Anti-Nephi-Lehies. Their decision wasn’t just about choosing peace in the abstract. They had been changed, and they understood how much it had cost them to be made clean. Their concern wasn't only what was right to do, but what they might become again if they returned to what they had been.
What Sanctification Is
Sanctification is different. Its not mainly about what's permitted. Its about what is happening inside a person.
Sanctification means becoming holy, transformed, aligned with God’s nature. It asks a different question:
Does this action reflect the kind of being God is making me into?
This is where the Anti-Nephi-Lehies become so powerful.
When I went back and read the Covenant of Christ account carefully, what struck me most was that this wasn't merely a moral stance against violence in the abstract. It was much more personal, much more searching and much more costly than that.
They say that God had forgiven them of “many sins and murders” and had taken away the guilt from their hearts. They say it had been “all that we could do to repent” and to receive that forgiveness. Then they say something that appears central to the whole account:
“Now, my most dearly beloved people, since God has removed our bloodstains and our swords have become clean, may we not stain our swords anymore with the blood of our brethren.” (CoC Alma 14)
That is not strategy. Not politics. Not a civic argument about rights.
That is a people terrified of returning to what they once were.
They had come out of real bloodshed. They had repented deeply enough that they no longer trusted themselves to go back to violence without endangering the miracle God had performed in them. Their concern wasn't merely, “Are we allowed to defend ourselves?” Their concern was, “Can we survive becoming that kind of people again?”
That's why this line carries so much weight:
“Since our swords are now bright, let’s hide them away so they can remain bright, as a testimony to God on the last day....”
They weren't just avoiding future sin. They were protecting the state they had become through repentance.
Why Both Exist in Scripture
This is where I think people often get tripped up. We want scripture to resolve the tension for us by giving one universal model. But it doesn't. It preserves both.
Why would God do that?
Because God meets people in different conditions, at different stages, in different societies.
There are times when:
- society still requires defense,
- justice must still be enforced,
- danger is real,
- and people are not living in Zion.
In that setting, force may be justified.
But there are also people whose repentance and transformation have gone so deep that they can't return to violence without betraying what God has done in them.
In that setting, laying down the sword isn't cowardice. Its sanctification.
So scripture preserves both because God isn't merely managing behavior. He's dealing with souls.
The Scriptural Tension
What makes this so uncomfortable is that both models are honored in scripture, but they're not the same thing.
The Nephite Model, Justified Defense
Moroni and the Nephites fought to protect their people. They defended family, religion, liberty and way of life. This wasn't bloodlust. It wasn't aggression for aggression’s sake. It was a restrained, defensive use of force in a fallen world.
That important. It means self-defense is not automatically condemned.
The Anti-Nephi-Lehi Model, Sanctified Surrender
The Anti-Nephi-Lehies made a covenant with God that rather than kill, they would lose their own lives. Rather than take away, they would give. Rather than return to bloodshed, they would bury their weapons and accept vulnerability.
This wasn't weakness. It wasn't passivity. It wasn't lack of courage.
It was a people who had been changed so deeply that violence had become spiritually unthinkable for them.
What is justified is not always what is sanctified.
That may be the heart of the tension.
Zion Changes the Equation
There's also a broader pattern in scripture. Those who will not take up the sword must flee to Zion for safety. That idea has always struck me because it exposes something very important.
A sanctified people, a people who truly refuse violence, cannot coexist indefinitely in a violent world without protection. Either they must gather where God defends them, or they must accept the vulnerability that comes with such a witness.
So there seem to be two distinct realities:
- A justified society, which uses force when necessary to preserve order, protect the innocent, and defend life.
- A sanctified people, who no longer live by violence because they have been transformed beyond it.
Both may exist under God’s mercy, but they are not the same spiritual condition.
What Christ Teaches
This is what keeps the whole issue from being too easy. Christ’s teachings don't merely tell us what is permitted. They point toward something higher.
Love your enemies. Do good to those who harm you. Turn the other cheek.
Those aren't “minimum requirement” teachings. They're not just instructions for staying technically innocent. They're descriptions of a sanctified life, a life patterned after heaven.
That doesn't erase the reality of justified defense in a fallen world. But it does keep us from confusing permission with perfection.
Where Most of Us Actually Live
If I'm being honest, most of us probably live in the realm of justification much more than sanctification.
We still feel the responsibility to protect our children. We still live in a dangerous world. We still think in terms of defense, prudence and survival. And some of that is real. Some of that may even be right.
But there is a danger in pretending that what is justified is therefore the highest possible state.
There is also a danger in pretending to inhabit a sanctified ethic when our hearts are not actually there.
Claiming a sanctified ethic without a sanctified heart can do real harm.
Not everyone is the Anti-Nephi-Lehies. And forcing that standard onto people who are not there could be irresponsible, especially when children or the vulnerable are involved.
At the same time, if we never let ourselves be confronted by the witness of the Anti-Nephi-Lehies, then we may turn justification into an excuse rather than a concession to a fallen world.
Another Thought I Find Fascinating
I also find it fascinating that there is a Native American peace image preserved in the phrase “bury the hatchet.” I don't want to overstate that. I can't prove a direct historical line from the Anti-Nephi-Lehies to later Native traditions, and I think it would be careless to make that claim too strongly.
But the resonance is striking.
In both cases, the symbolism isn't merely “stop fighting” Its deeper than that. Its the deliberate burying of the instrument of violence itself. Its peace made visible. Its the renunciation of a former way of being.
Whether or not there's a direct connection, the image strikes me as profoundly similar.
The Questions This Leaves Me With
I don't want to flatten this into a tidy conclusion, because I don't think scripture does.
Instead, I find myself sitting with questions like these:
- Is self-defense always the highest expression of faith?
- When does justification become a default instead of a last resort?
- Are there times restraint would be more Christlike than force?
- Would I trust God enough not to fight?
- Do I actually want that level of surrender?
And maybe the deepest question of all:
Am I trying to be right, or am I trying to become holy?
Back to My Daughter
When my daughter asked her question, I didn't give her a simple answer. I'm still not sure there is one.
But maybe the real question isn't which group in scripture was right in some abstract, universal sense.
Maybe the better question is this:
What kind of people are we becoming?
Are we becoming people who manage violence responsibly in a fallen world? Are we becoming people who trust God enough to surrender what seems necessary? Are we moving toward Zion, or only toward order?
I don't think those are the same thing.
Closing Thought
I keep coming back to this:
Justification is where God permits what a fallen world still requires. Sanctification is where God changes a people so deeply they no longer need what was once permitted.
The sword may be allowed.
But I don't think it is ever the end goal.
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