War is one of the scourges with which it has pleased God to

Hear, O sons and daughters of the earth, the solemn words of Cardinal Richelieu, who proclaimed: “War is one of the scourges with which it has pleased God to afflict men.” In this saying lies both resignation and revelation. Richelieu, the iron hand of seventeenth-century France, was no stranger to war’s ruin or its necessity. He saw in war not merely the ambition of kings or the folly of men, but a trial permitted by Heaven itself—a purging fire, a scourge upon the nations, meant to humble pride and remind humanity of its frailty.

For what is a scourge but a whip, laid upon the backs of the disobedient? War lashes nations, tearing apart their peace, staining their fields with blood, and scattering their people in sorrow. Richelieu perceived that just as famine and plague humble the arrogance of men, so too does war. It is not a gift but a punishment, not a blessing but a chastisement. In his eyes, war was not outside the providence of God—it was one of the bitter medicines by which men are forced to confront their sins of greed, ambition, and cruelty.

Yet these words do not absolve man of responsibility. Richelieu, though a servant of God, was also a servant of power, guiding France through the Thirty Years’ War, a conflict that left Europe in ashes. He knew too well that it was the choices of rulers that unleashed the scourge. But he also knew that once unleashed, war devoured all—innocent and guilty alike. His phrase carries the weight of a man who saw blood flowing not only from swords but from the corruption of the heart, and who believed that God permitted such horrors as a mirror to mankind’s own failings.

History is filled with echoes of this truth. When Jerusalem fell to Babylon, the prophets cried that it was a scourge sent by God for the sins of the people. When Napoleon brought war across Europe centuries after Richelieu, the nations saw in his downfall both the pride of a man too lofty and the inevitable ruin such pride must summon. Always the lesson resounds: war is the rod by which the arrogance of men is beaten down, though the innocent often suffer alongside the guilty.

Yet let us not mistake Richelieu’s words as fatalism. To say that war is a scourge allowed by God is not to say it is inevitable in every age. Just as plagues may be cured and famines prevented, so too may wars be avoided—if men have the courage to master their pride and greed. The scourge comes because humanity forgets humility; it fades when wisdom and justice prevail. Richelieu’s insight was meant not to glorify war, but to remind us that its flames consume because of the sparks struck by human hands.

What, then, is the lesson for us? It is this: if war is a scourge, then our task is not to embrace it but to resist the sins that summon it. Do not be deceived by the glitter of conquest or the pride of nations. See in war the judgment it represents, the mirror it holds up to humanity’s worst instincts. And resolve to be among those who heal, who reconcile, who labor for peace. For though God may permit war as a scourge, He also blesses those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, who turn swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks.

Therefore, O children of tomorrow, remember Richelieu’s wisdom. War is a scourge—terrible, humbling, afflictive. But it is also a warning. It warns us against arrogance, greed, and hatred. Let it drive you not into despair, but into vigilance. Strive to live so that your choices do not call down this scourge upon your people. And if the scourge comes despite you, stand firm in mercy and justice, that even in affliction, your soul may remain unstained. For war may afflict the body, but only our choices determine the fate of the soul.