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Pursue Peace — Peacefully, Truthfully, Hopefully Donald B. Kraybill Fall Peace Gathering of Lancaster Interchurch Peace Witness
Exactly two weeks ago today, I was in the Netherlands on a lecture and research visit. With a few hours to spare on Sunday, I visited the small village of Asperen, south of Amsterdam. It was a pilgrimage of sorts for me, because I wanted to see the village where Dirk Willems was killed in 1569. Dirk is a hero in my Anabaptist heritage and I wanted to photograph the street sign that carried his name. It was a 435-year-old memory that still stirs my emotions today. Dirk was an Anabaptist who was captured and imprisoned for his faith. One night he escaped from the prison and fled across a large body of frozen water. Glancing back he saw the prison warden, in close pursuit, suddenly fall through the ice. Without hesitating, Dirk turned back and pulled the warden from the icy waters, only to be recaptured and killed for his faith several days later. It is a classic story of extending love to the enemy, of saving the life of a captor, of overcoming evil with good, and of dying for one's religious convictions. It is a powerful story, a powerful memory, which stirs my emotions and actions still today, some 435 years later. Recently I learned that, in some towns in We gather today at a time when our nation is deeply divided. And that division has also polarized our churches. As people of faith, as Christians, how do we discern the times, the moral questions related to war in our times? I want to propose three ideas for our consideration today: I speak today as a Christian pacifist, as one who finds it incompatible with my Christian faith to take another life, regardless of the cause. But let me be very clear about several things: First, the Lancaster Interchurch Peace Witness is not a pacifist group, but a network of Christians committed to seeking the things that make for peace—locally and globally. A network that agrees that the pursuit of peace cannot be optional for a people who follow the God of Peace, the Prince of Peace, and the Spirit of Peace. Second, I have a profound respect for other Christian sisters and brothers who believe that under certain circumstances they could take another life. These are very complex moral and spiritual questions and I respect how sincere people can arrive at different conclusions. Third, let me be clear that I am not asking our government to be pacifist. I am not calling for the government to dismantle our military forces. I respect the need for force to protect the innocent and maintain order. Although not calling for disarmament, I am proposing that principles of Christian peacemaking have many applications for national policy. Fourth, God is not a Democrat or a Republican. I come today as a registered Republican, but my intent is not to endorse Republican or Democratic candidates. I want to focus issues of Christian faith and peacemaking and let the chips fall where they may--on both the elephants and the donkeys. These issues loom large, of course, on the brink of an election as we sort out whether or not to vote and, if so, how. Finally, truth be told, I love this country and the freedoms that it affords for the practice of free speech, open assembly, and the freedom to practice any religion without restraint or coercion. Unlike Dirk Willems and millions of Christians around the world today, we do not need to worry about being persecuted for our faith. These are precious principles that I cherish. And my remarks today, which may sound unpatriotic to some, flow from my Christian faith and from my deep love for the democratic principles that undergird this nation and other free democracies around the world. The September 11 attack on America provoked a flurry of questions about Islam. Is it a peace-loving religion? What did Muhammad really say about jihad? Does the Koran justify killing? Curiously, however, very few people were asking about Jesus. And, ironically to many Muslims, the events of the last three years might suggest that Christianity is a militant, warrior religion. The vast major of Christian theologians and Christian ethicists agree that peacemaking is central to the Christian Gospel. Catholics and many of the major Protestant denominations, have statements supporting a just peace as a principle of Christian faith, including the Presbyterians who have so graciously welcomed us here today. Jesus' call to love the enemy and his blessing on peacemakers, as well as the Apostle Paul's admonition to feed the enemy and overcome evil with good, are a few of the many New Testament references that proclaim the centrality of peacemaking in the Christian Gospel. The teachings of Jesus are clear. He taught forgiveness and love for the enemy, and he explicitly rejected revenge and retaliation (Matt. 5:43-44). But for me the most compelling argument is Jesus' own example of nonviolence, in the face of torture and an agonizing death on the cross. In the face of terror and violent abuse, he did not retaliate or even try to defend himself. He was not a puppet in the hands of an angry God; he made an explicit choice about how to respond to evil. As the very incarnation and revelation of God, Jesus disclosed an uncommon kind of deity. In a word, this God doesn't fight. Most tribal gods relish conquest and military victory. But this God is different, this God is willing to suffer and die. This God contends that evil can be overcome by good. This is not the warrior god of chariots and swords, but the lowly God of stables and donkeys, the God who willingly suffers and dies on a cross. Suffering love and forgiveness are his answer to evil. Perhaps this is why so few people were asking about Jesus after September 11. In the midst of our rage, we didn't want to hear these words, let alone practice them. Love for the enemy and a willingness to suffer in the face of evil is a defining trait of our Christian faith. The Apostle Paul sums up the Christian imperative for reconciliation in II Corinthians 5:16-20 by saying that God has given us the ministry of reconciliation and that we are ambassadors of Christ in this effort. The way of Jesus offers nonviolent means of stopping the spiraling cycles of bloody revenge which produce an endless supply of suicide bombers. Some Christians, in my judgement, have diluted the peaceful claims of the Christian Gospel in three ways. First, some have argued that, since the Hebrew Scriptures are filled with battles, we should turn to them for guidance during war. This is difficult if we confess that Jesus is God's fullest and final revelation, for Jesus explicitly says, "You have heard that it was said an eye for an eye, but I say unto you, love your enemies,"----establishing a new Christian norm for responding to evil. This Christo-centric view assumes that Jesus is the key for interpreting all scripture. Second, some contend that Jesus only came to die to save the world, and that what he said and what he did doesn't matter. All that matters is that we believe in him, regardless of how we live. This narrow, "spiritualized" view neatly separates Christian faith from social ethics and renders Jesus' life and teachings irrelevant. This compartmentalized view strips Christian faith of any ethical potency. It shrinks Jesus down to a mythical figure. Third, other Christians agree that Jesus advocated peace, but argue that it only applies to personal ethics and interpersonal relationships, not to public or corporate policy. Although this is a step forward from the "spiritualized" version, Jesus still remains irrelevant for social policy. This creates two ethical standards: one for private life and another for public life. Now, nonviolent responses are not always effective. Jesus ended up on a cross. Dirk Willems was killed. But neither is military might always effective or predictable. Witness the violent quagmire in Iraq that came after we thought our high tech "Shock and Awe" campaign had silenced the "enemy" in Baghdad." The peaceful imperative of the Gospel has challenged Christians over the centuries. It challenges our natural impulse for defense, protection, and revenge. The historical record is very clear. For three centuries, Christians refused to participate in the military, and they witnessed to the peaceful way of Jesus. This testimony to peacemaking began to fade when the Emperor Constantine made Christianity the religion of the empire in the 4th century (A.D. 312)-- thus merging church and state together. Christians, no longer persecuted, became privileged, and participated in the Roman army. Since that time, Christians, in broad strokes, have espoused three responses to war: the just war, the crusade, and pacifism. The just war tradition emerged when Christian theologians argued that war could only be justified, if certain conditions were met for when to go to war and how to fight it. The just war tradition was designed to limit wars, not give license to them. In short, a war could be considered justified if: After the just war tradition developed, some Christians continued to practice pacifism, but most of them lived in monasteries. In addition, various church renewal movements have also espoused pacifism over the centuries. In the Middle Ages, a third response developed: the holy war, the crusade, developed when Christian leaders urged the faithful to march to Jerusalem and liberate holy sites from the infidels--the Muslims. Tragically, many Christians committed barbaric atrocities in the name of God in the fervor of the crusade spirit. I'm sure that none of us here today would support an old-fashioned crusade or holy war in the name of the Christian God. Yet that is what the war in Iraq looks like to many in the Islamic world when Americans sing "God Bless America," the commander in chief is a Christian, and chaplains pray with soldiers in battle. To some in the Islamic world, the war in Iraq looks like a high tech version of a Christian Crusade. The tragic outcome of any crusade, or Christian jihad, is that the very God who died a suffering death on the cross is flipped upside down and used to bless and justify the very violence that he resisted in the face of the cross. The big question facing Christian citizens in a democratic society is how to reconcile the peaceful teachings of Jesus, the Gospels, the writings of Paul, and three centuries of Christian witness with the real presence of sin, evil, and terror, in our world. The just war framework remains the dominant way of thinking about Christian participation in war, but I suggest that the attack on Iraq did not pass the test for a so-called "just war." Many Christian leaders, including those from his own United Methodist Church, told the president this before the war, but to no avail. Regardless of just war criteria; leaders were determined to fight. How did the attack on Iraq fail the just war criteria? First, and most important, the war in Iraq was not a war of last resort. This was a war of convenience, a war of choice, not a war of necessity. It simply was not necessary, not morally justifiable, in my view. Second, it was not just because it was not in self-defense. There were no weapons of mass destruction aimed at the United States. Third, it violated the moral taboo of a preemptive first strike against other sovereign nations. We violated that taboo to our moral disgrace, giving other nations an example and an excuse to do the same, which I think makes the world a more dangerous place. Fourth, a long-term peace in Iraq was not certain. This was documented before the war by the military's own studies. Fifth, given the religious and political context of the Islamic world, a war would likely trigger much more violence and terrorism, which it has. Finally, One of the just war tests is peaceful intent. Removing a brutal dictator fit this test for Saddam had killed thousands of his own people, had violated UN Security Council resolutions for 12 years, had created a police state of tyranny, and so on. These deplorable conditions were certainly true. A "good Samaritan-like" effort to liberate the Iraqis and create the conditions for a free democracy certainly seemed like a just intent. From a Christian perspective, however, can such noble ends, ever be justified by the use of violent means and a unilateral first strike? Moreover, the moment we struck, the moral burden of the ensuing death and destruction suddenly shifted to US shoulders. In the first months after the attack, many reconstruction efforts of good will were accomplished. And many positive things to rebuild Iraq are underway today. But the invasion and continuing American presence has ignited passions and created political vaccums that may eventually erupt in civil wars. And now we must ask: Is the death and destruction in Iraq after the US invasion greater or lesser than if Saddam had stayed in power? Truth be told, we can't predict the long-term outcome at this point. Iraq may eventually emerge as a free democracy or it may swirl into a bloody civil war. Now, lest you think this is simply easy, Monday-morning quarterbacking, I was one of the framers and signers of a full-page newspaper statement, signed by over 300 citizens of Lancaster County in September 2002, six months before the invasion. Among 14 objections to the war, the statement said, "American military action may bring thousands of deaths, far more than the number killed by the attack on September 11, it will inflame anti-American passions, it will breed more terrorism that will weaken our security at home and abroad, and it will erode American credibility in the Muslim world." Sad to say, all of these things have come to pass. And it didn't require a brilliant strategic military study to predict them, just some Lancaster County common sense, seasoned with Christian peacemaking perspectives. So what should Christians who claim the gospel of peace say and do? We are called to pursue peace--peacefully, truthfully, hopefully. We are called to pursue peace, shalom, well-being in all areas of our lives--in our families, in our churches, in our interpersonal relationships, in our communities, and in our national policies. Now, probably all of us would agree on these noble ends. All of us want peaceful communities, peaceful countries, and a peaceful world. But there are many points of disagreement, but I want to highlight two. One related to policy and the other to methods. In a democracy, should Christians offer advice on national policy? And, secondly, are violent means necessary to achieve our national interests? I have a friend, a Christian ethicist, who agrees that Jesus, the New Testament writings, and the witness of the early church fully support the Christian peace tradition. Nevertheless, he contends that Christians have little to say to government about national defense. We should not formulate defense policies based on Christian values. Christians, according to him, should quietly sit on the sidelines and let the policy experts shape national policy. I disagree. I think the wisdom in our Christian peace tradition can inform the formation of national policy. But let me be clear on two things: First, the New Testament was not written to be a policy manual for governments, and, I repeat, I am not calling for our government to be pacifist. I am, however, arguing that there is practical wisdom in the Christian peace tradition that can inform public policy, and I am contending that Christians, especially in a democracy, should speak and act in ways that are consistent with their Christian faith. However, let me be clear again, I am not calling for a Christian nation, nor am I calling for the Christian Church to impose its religious values on non-Christian majorities or minorities. But in the context of a democratic, free society, I am suggesting that Christians, as citizens, should speak up based on the moral wisdom of our tradition. On the question of war, for example, we should plead with our leaders to patiently exhaust all forms of nonviolent means to achieve our national security objectives. We should raise questions about the moral and practical consequences of the use of violent means. We should plead for pursuing peaceful solutions with peaceful means. To do otherwise, to use violence to bring peace, is a moral failure where the ends do not justify the means. And, as the case in Iraq sadly demonstrates, we become the very evil that we deplore. Our voice will be only one of many in a pluralistic democratic society, but it is imperative that we speak, and that we speak consistent with the foundational principles of our Christian faith. Most importantly, we should witness to the power of suffering love to transform and overcome evil. And we should not be captive to partisan ideology, but seek to speak the truth in love. Nevertheless, many sincere Christians will disagree with me. Let me to briefly note three other Christian views on these issues. My view, described above, might be called Engaged Christian Pacifism. Secondly, I have some Christian friends who will not bear arms and who also prefer to stand apart from, the political fray because they believe in a sharp separation of church and state. I respect this Nonresistant Separatist position, although it differs from my own. Third, I also have many Christian friends who are not pacifists. They understand the costs and grave consequences of war and are loath to support military action but, as a last resort, they support the use of violence by the state. This position, sometimes called Christian Realism, recognizes that even though war may be sin, it may, at times, be a tragic necessity. I understand and respect both of these positions. The fourth position, the one I have most difficulty understanding, is what we might call the Christian Warriors. Those who claim the name of Christ, the Prince of Peace, but then with warrior-like zeal turn around and support the military effort in Iraq, with religious platitudes, with the fervor of a holy crusade. In the midst of war, they sing "God Bless America," endorsing military action, in the name of a Christian America, to fight terrorism. I find such a position perplexing, inconsistent, and devoid of Christian integrity. Such Christian warriors often see the world as a stage for a cosmic struggle, a showdown battle between the forces of good and evil, with their warrior god blessing American military efforts. Some go so far, as to see the invasion of Iraq a holy war, sanctioned and predicted in the Bible, a necessary step before the rapture, when in their view, God will rescue the faithful from this earth before the great battle of Armageddon, that mother of all battles. These views have been reinforced by the 62 million copies of the Left Behind novels of so called, "Christian fiction." We are all tempted to do two things. We are all tempted to use the name of God and religious arguments to justify our beliefs. That is what I am doing here today. Secondly we are tempted to use force to impose peace. This temptation can range from verbal exchanges to military actions. On the verbal level, even in our churches, we find it hard to talk about peace without making enemies. Because my differences with Christian warriors are so sharp, the terrorist within me tempts me to use harsh, unloving language when I talk with them. There is a terrorist within each of us. Even within the most sincere pacifist. We are all tempted to rage and revenge, whether in verbal insults, or in the use of violence to protest the violence of war. Thus, the necessity of pursuing peace--peaceably, in every way, in every place. On the military end, violent means do not necessarily guarantee peaceful outcomes; military efforts to impose peace often produce more violence, if not now, later. Because a forced peace is not a just peace; it will not last. An old adage reminds us that truth is the first casualty in war. In a time of war, lies, falsehoods, and distortions fill the air as many rush in to condemn or defend the war. Truth be told, it is hard for me to see the war in Iraq "objectively" because I was so strongly opposed to it from the beginning. Jim Wallis, editor of Sojourners Magazine, says that the church's gift to politics is a truthful proclamation of the gospel. The church loses its soul the moment it becomes captive to partisan politics and political ideology. The church should provide a biblical perspective that is not hostage to any political ideology. Strange things happen when we go to war. The warrior spirit seduces and intoxicates us. It calls forth the deepest primal instincts within us. War, in the title of Chris Hedge's book, is A Force That Gives Us Meaning. Ultimate meaning. Hedges, who is not a pacifist, writes that, even in its carnage and destruction, war offers us ultimate meaning. Ultimate meaning because it requires an ultimate sacrifice--death. In the words of the president, "You are either with us or against us." Things are suddenly clear and clean, black and white, friend and enemy, good and evil. The enemy is demonized as a symbol of absolute evil. In a time of war, Patriotism becomes a thinly veiled form of collective self-worship that exaggerates a nation's goodness and trashes everything about the enemy. War is a god, as the ancient Greeks and Romans knew, because its worship demands human sacrifice. All bow before the supreme effort, the supreme altar. John Kerry says that to die in war is the noblest sacrifice. I disagree. To die demonstrating suffering love for the enemy is the noblest sacrifice. That is why I am pulled to Dirk Willems, whose God was not the vicious god of war, but the loving God of our Lord Jesus Christ. The scripture admonishes us to speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15). I want to unpack six myths that sometimes enshroud the war in Iraq. First, the myth of redemptive violence. This myth, in short, suggests that we can redeem things with violence. We can fix things; we can make them better, with the use of force. Sometimes that is true, but more often it is not. Nevertheless, we are seduced into believing that with violent means we can rid the world of evil, eliminate our enemies, and control the outcome of things. Our high tech toys of destruction make this myth even more enticing and exciting. Truth be told, the use of violence typically begets more violence, and creates lasting memories that fuel future cycles of violence. We live in a culture that encourages violence, from children's toys to violence on television. We should not blame the military for our predicament in Iraq. They really did not want to fight this war. I spent a week at the Army War College in June 2003, and learned to my surprise, that our military leaders had serious reservations about the attack on Iraq that was underway. Our elected civilian leaders, not US military officers, made the decision to invade, and they were, for the most part, supported by the American people. We were hungry for revenge following the attack of September 11 and frustrated by our inability to catch the elusive Osama bin Laden. So, Saddam Hussen, in many ways, became the scapegoat for our rage, our fear, and our insecurity. The mean and ugly mood of the country was supported by a culture of violence, a culture of violence learned at movie theatres, on video games, on television, on the Internet. Ultimately, our excursion into Iraq should not be blamed on the military or pinned on the president; it was driven by the sinister myth of redemptive violence deep within our souls, the myth that violence works, that it can fix things, that it can redeem them, make them better. This culture of violence, embellished by fear, has created an election climate, where both presidential candidates have to prove that they will be the toughest, the meanest commander in chief, because that, we think, will increase our security. Now, by arming Iraqis by the thousands, by training their civilians in the art of war, we are reinforcing the myth of redemptive violence there as well. As Christians, we must seek to dismantle this myth that violence redeems things, for what it is, a myth. Second, the myth that Iraq was a threat to US security. There were no weapons of mass destruction. The assertion of "no WMDs" that many of us made back in September 2002, in the newspaper statement, has now been verified after hundreds of inspectors came home empty-handed, at a cost of $900 million. A recent Senate Intelligence report says the prewar intelligence about WMDs was overstated, misleading, and incorrect. Colin Powell recently said, "We've seen nothing to suggest that Saddam Hussein had stockpiles of weapons. I regret our information was not correct." Need I say more? Third, the myth that Iraq aided the September 11th terrorists. Again, there is no evidence to support this. September 11 simply provided a convenient opportunity to strike Iraq given high levels of international sympathy and surging patriotism at home. Today, 18 months after the invasion, Iraq is a hot bed for terrorism, precisely because of what our nation did. Fourth, the myth that America and the world are safer since the removal of Saddam Hussein. In my judgment, the world is a much more dangerous today because our actions in Iraq are breeding thousands of young terrorists. We are making enemies faster than we can kill them. In the words of John Paul Lederach, "Military action to destroy terrorists is like clubbing the head of a gone-to-seed dandelion. We not only sustain the myth, that we are evil, we also assure a never-ending supply of new recruits." We are told that the world and America are safer because many of the key al Qaeda leaders have been killed or imprisoned. They may have been captured or killed, but their spots are not vacant. There are no vacancies in al Qaeda. The vacancies have been filled with eager recruits, willing to die as suicide bombers. By invading Iraq, regardless of how good our intentions, we have created a magnet that draws, inspires, and drives terrorists to killing. The number of Iraqi resistance fighters has more than quadrupled in the last 10 months, from 5,000 to an estimated 20,000 to 30,000, despite the fact that as many as 24,000 of them may have been killed or detained. The American presence in Baghdad is a great magnet that attracts terrorists to the great jihad against, "the invading infidels." Despite prewar intelligence reports that predicted this very thing, we tried to fight a war on terror only to defeat ourselves by breeding more terrorists. Terrorism regenerates itself as long as it has a cause, and it will have a cause as long as American troops remain in Iraq. "We will fight," said one terrorist this week, "until the last American dog has gone home." Fifth, the myth that the cost of the war is small. The 1,100 Americans, the number who have died in Iraq, is small as compared with the 58,000 Americans who died in Vietnam. But look deeper. Some 7,400 Americans have been wounded in Iraq. Many have lost legs, arms or eyes. But look deeper. This is not just about American deaths. It is about human death and destruction. The Iraqi count of "reported deaths" is between 13,000 and 15,000, including as many as 10,000 civilians and children. In addition, an estimated 40,000 Iraqis have been wounded. Obviously, many of these deaths and injuries have been the work of the car-bombing insurgents, not US soldiers, but nevertheless, deaths produced by conditions created by the US occupation. Look again. More than 1,000 American soldiers were evacuated due to mental breakdowns from the horror of war. Look deeper. Consider the stress on the 140,000 American families whose loved ones have been away from home. The glory of the war is fading quickly. Some one third of the US Ready Reserve forces, called for duty in recent weeks, have failed to report. Look deeper. Consider the devastation to property, buildings, and historic sites in Iraq. Again, some of this was caused by insurgents, but it was due to conditions we created. And think of the fear, the terror, for millions of Iraqis caught between fighting religious factions, barbaric insurgents, a fledgling Iraqi government, and the ubiquitous presence of US humvees. Look deeper still. The US has approved $151 billion with a supplemental $60 billion more, likely after the election. Who can begin to predict the total long-term costs? This $150 billion "investment" in war increases our national deficit and diverts funds from urgent domestic programs. But think beyond our shores. The $150 billion could have fully funded worldwide anti-hunger efforts for five years, or worldwide AIDS prevention for 13 years, or immunized every child worldwide for 46 years. Or we could have used this $150 billion investment in war to address the root conditions that breed terrorism in the Middle East. In the words of President Eisenhower,"Every gun that is fired, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the end a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, from those who are cold and not clothed." Consider another cost. Our actions in Iraq have soiled our national soul. After conducting a first strike, in the face of international protest, against a sovereign nation that did not pose a threat to our security, our moral leadership is scarred. Apart from a tarnished international reputation, our moral leverage has been impaired, now our pleas to other countries to reduce their weapons and refrain from preemptive attacks, ring hollow and empty. And finally, the myth that God blesses our efforts. Americans are fond of singing "God Bless America." All of us want God to be on our side, supporting our views and our causes. There is a story from WWI when Germans and American troops were facing each other in trenches. One day the Germans put up a homemade placard that said, "Got Mit Uns," [God is with us.] The Americans, baffled because they couldn't read German, finally respond with their own poster that said, "We've got mittens too!" All of us want to claim that God is on our side. Both Republicans and Democrats in this election season are scrambling to use prayers and references to God to show that they are the anointed party, the recipient of God's blessing. The Republican Party platform makes four references to God; not to be outdone, the Democratic platform mustered up seven. It is a normal human yearning to seek the reassuring smile of divine blessing and legitimation. But we need to ask, "Who is this god who blesses America's military adventures?" Is it a tribal god, a national mascot, who cheers us on, or is it the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the God who loves the whole world, the God who sends rain on the just and the unjust? When public piety is surging, we need to be careful to distinguish between the god of American civil religion, who blesses whatever we do, and the God revealed in Jesus of Nazareth who has no pet nations. For the God of the New Testament, there is no east and west, no political boundaries, no passports, no favored nations, no privileged peoples. The kingdom of this God, is a global family, a family that transcends borders and boundaries. This God blesses the entire world! Pursue Peace--Peacefully, Truthfully, Hopefully. The Apostle Paul speaks of the three great Christian virtues of faith, hope, and love. Nonviolent means are an expression of love. But what about hope? Our hope is not grounded in the effectiveness of American military action, or in the tribal god of American civil religion. Our hope as Christians is rooted in a God who loves all peoples and nations. Because our hope is not tied to a national destiny, is not wedded to the outcome of one election, we are empowered to work faithfully, patiently, lovingly, in building wholesome relationships. Empowered by a loving God, our vision for peacemaking goes beyond the vested interests of a single nation. This grander vision empowers and sustains us, because we are ambassadors, not of American foreign policy, but of God's worldwide ministry of reconciliation. There are many signs and seeds of hope. Many international and ecumenical organizations such as Christian Peacemaker Teams and Doctors Without Borders, to name just two, have emerged in recent years to give witness to the global, transnational task of peacemaking. The work of Glen Stassen on just peacemaking offers concrete ways in which nations, who are willing, can take small incremental steps to reduce the vicious cycle of violence. Other signs of hope include the nonviolent transformations that have changed many nations in recent years. Since 1989, according to some accounts, thirteen nations comprising 1.6 billion people experienced nonviolent revolutions that succeeded beyond anyone's wildest expectations. If we add all the countries touched by major nonviolent actions in the 20th century--the Philippines, South Africa, the independence movement in India)--the figure reaches 3.3 billion, a staggering 65% of humanity! All this in the face of the assertion, repeated again and again, that nonviolence does not work. In other hopeful news, the number of worldwide conflicts is declining. Armed conflicts, in fact, dropped from 44 in 1995, to 36 in 2003. All of this brings us back to Dirk and the ultimate question. For what are we willing to die? What is the noblest sacrifice? To die in the service of the nation or to die giving witness to God's love--even love to the enemy. For me, it is the latter. In the words of Martin Luther King Jr., "The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing that it seeks to destroy." Violence transforms us into the very evil we deplore. In the words of the Apostle Paul, our mandate is to find ways to overcome evil with good. May God grant us wisdom, grace, and creativity as we pursue the things that make for peace--peacefully, truthfully, hopefully. Amen Resources For Group Study and Discussion Ackerman, Peter and Jack Duvall. 2001. A Force More Powerful: A Century of Nonviolent Conflict. New York: St. Martin's Press. 560-page paperback. This nationally acclaimed book describes the success of many nonviolent movements over the past century. Brown, Dale W. 2003. Biblical Pacifism. Second edition. Nappanee, Ind.: Evangel Publishing House. 174-page paperback. Makes the biblical case for Christian peacemaking and witness. Hedges, Chris. 2002. War Is A Force That Gives Us Meaning. New York: Anchor Books, a division of Random House. 210-page paperback. A national best seller by a nonpacfist journalist who explains why and how war intoxicates us. Very readable and compelling. Kraybill, Donald B. and Linda Gehman Peachey, eds. 2002. Where Was God On September 11? Scottdale, Pa: Herald Press. 215-page paperback. Some sixty short essays reflecting of the events of September 11, 2001 and the war on terrorism by Christian leaders from numerous denominations. Includes questions for small group study. Roth, John D. 2002. Choosing Against War: A Christian View. Intercourse Pa.: Good Books. 206-page paperback. In six readable chapters, Roth presents a compelling case for Christian peacemaking. Stassen, Glen H. 1992. Just Peacemaking: Transforming Initiatives for Justice and Peace. Louisville, Ky.: Westminster/John Knox. 250-page paperback. Presents concrete steps of "just peacemaking" to reduce international conflict. Wink, Walter. 1998. The Powers That Be: Theology For A New Millennium. New York: Galilee/Doubleday. 224-page paperback. An easy-to-read summary of many of Wink's central ideas about Christian peacemaking. ------. 1994. Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination, Vol. 3. Minneapolis, Minn.: Augsburg Fortress. 425-page paperback. A major scholarly work on evil, violence and peacemaking from a Christian perspective. The Institute for Policy Studies A detailed analysis of the costs of the war in Iraq: www.antiwar.com A source for information on war casualties and wounded: www.costofwar.com Extensive information on the decline of worldwide armed conflict: www.lipw.org www.sojo.net (Sojourners) A good source of resources for Christian peacemaking. This statement, signed and paid for by some 330 Lancaster County residents, appeared as a full page ad in the Lancaster Intelligencer Journal and the Lancaster New Era on September 27, 2002, some five months before the attack on Iraq in March 2003.
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