A.J. Muste was an immigrant to the United States of America, as the 19th century slowly became the 20th, but he didn't have much say in the matter as he was only six years old when his parents moved from Holland. He received a fine education and was a proud resident and citizen of the nation of his parents' choosing. He graduated with honors first with a bachelor's degree and eventually with a master's and doctoral degree. As he matured, he became increasingly involved in social causes even as he tried to figure out the question of his own spiritual calling. He was especially involved in the labor movement and helped organize disenfranchised workers together so that they might negotiate with their employers for a safer and better job. As was expected, he received much resistance from the circles he had been raised in and in which his parents circulated. Yet, he was convinced that he must do something for those in need of help and for the cause of justice and fairness. So, he was willing to sacrifice a good reputation for his convictions.
Eventually, he became a minister in a congregational church but he was committed to non-violence after his experience of World War I and the people whom he met with and with whom he conversed. This was an odd stance for a man such as A.J. but it became a hated stance as he persisted in it through the years approaching and including World War II. But, he was convinced that God had called him to a way of peace and nonviolence that revoked any right he felt toward self-defense or preemptive violence. By A.J.'s reasoning, there was no just war and so not even World War II could be rationalized or accepted. When a son of a member of the congregation that he pastored died in the war, he did not veer from his intended topic for the Sunday sermon: "The Futility of War." It was another opportunity for him to raise his famous question: "The problem after a war is the victor. He thinks he has just proved that war and violence will pay. Who will now teach him a lesson?" By A.J.'s thinking there was no time when war or violence would pay or would be acceptable. When he had said this, he must have known he would suffer for it. That afternoon the congregation called a meeting and voted to terminate him as their pastor. He, his wife, and his children were forcibly moved out of the parsonage that night and had to find somewhere else to live.
He remained a minister, associated finally with the Quakers, and committed to nonviolence even if it had cost him his job. He was at one time an advisor to Martin Luther King, Jr. and considered an authority on nonviolent resistance. He and his colleagues and associates were arrested repeatedly for hopping fences at military facilities, paddling their boats into nuclear test sites, and sympathizing with those whom the State insisted they hate and fear. For these things, A.J. received and still receives derision but he could not more veer from these convictions than he could stop being who he was. He had become an advocate for peace and nonviolence at all costs and had proven repeatedly that he was willing to lay down anything for a chance at peace. If it is true that the peacemakers are blessed--and I do believe it so--then surely A.J. Muste has a share of blessedness for his refusal to abandon the way of peace even in the face of adversity.