Archive for the 'Pacifism' Category

Pacifism and the Battle Hymn

Fridays are the mornings I sleep late. I had told myself, however, that I was going to get up and watch all of Reagan’s funeral. But alas, it didn’t happen. I lay in bed like a bump on a log until well past 8:00AM. By the time Matilde the chinchilla was done with her morning playtime in the bathroom (and really, few things are as heavenly as that) I was just able to turn on the TV in time to catch the words of Bush I. I did linger to listen to everything the current president had to say.

Once Bush II (is it disrespectful to call him that?) was through, a rather slow version of the Battle Hymn of the Republic began. It certainly is a popular tune with this administration! They played it over and over again on Wednesday, when Reagan’s casket was taken from the caisson into the capitol rotunda, and they played it at the end of the national memorial service on September 14, 2001. It’s an interesting choice, especially since until recently, it was still considered by some Southerners to be a divisive tune. (I actually know folks from down South who consider the lyrics deeply offensive, but that’s another post).

I’ll agree, it’s a heck of a “battle hymn”! As a child, I hated singing the National Anthem (too difficult). “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” was too obviously “God Save the Queen”. “America, the Beautiful” was utterly uninspiring to a small boy. But gosh, how I loved to sing the “Battle Hymn” in Mr. Purdy’s music class at Carmel River School, and happily, he liked to have us sing it. It always made me feel like marching off somewhere and doing something grand and good! And even as a child, I loved the final verse (back in the day when you could sing this in a public school):

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

Just the rhythm of it made me wriggle with excitement when I was ten! But as an adult, I’ve always been entranced by the final couplet. Really, it’s a nice statement of pacifist theology:

As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

The lyrics call “us” to be an army that imitates Christ. It doesn’t say, “As he killed men to make them holy, let us kill to make men free”! If Jesus was a non-violent sacrifice for all humankind, then the nachfolge Christi also requires non-violent sacrifice. Mennonites, like most Christian pacifists, have a long history (see the Martyr’s Mirror) of being willing to die for a cause, just not being willing to kill for a cause. There’s a colossal distinction; it’s one that Julia Ward Howe seems to have made, but not one that our modern culture is willing to make.

Indeed, the only sword wielded in the Battle Hymn is God’s “terrible swift one”. And it would be dangerous, biblically and theologically, to assume that the sword of the state is a mere proxy for the sword of God. Really, I’ve often felt we in the peace church tradition should be singing the Battle Hymn more often, as it reflects our theology better than it does that of our Reformed and Catholic brethren!

Also on the subject of pacifism, Christy had a great post yesterday. I liked this:

I’m not a pacifist because I believe that the world is sunshine and doughnuts, and if we could all just feel the love, everything would be groovy. I’m a pacifist because I believe the world is hard and unfair, violence disproportionately affects the poor and powerless, and I am all too aware of my own violent tendencies. Rather than being a passive thing, being a pacifist should be about actively trying to be a peace-maker in my daily life.

Being anti-war is easy. Peace-making is hard. I suck at it sometimes, but I’m pretty sure I would be much worse at it if I wasn’t even trying. There is no peace without justice, so peace-making has to be about trying to create spaces where both I and the structures around me are treating people with the respect that all image-bearers of God deserve.

I believe that the means are the ends, so I can’t build something good based on anger or fear or disrespect or trying to shove a particular political platform down anybody’s throat. Most of us have come to our particular opinions through our lived experience, not logical arguments, so talking myself hoarse probably won’t change anybody’s mind…

By the way, the classicists out there will have to back me up on this, but the root of “pacifism” is utterly unrelated to the root of “passive.”

Passive, if I remember my Latin, comes from passus sum – “to suffer” (as in the Passion)

Pacifism comes from pax facere – “to make peace” (very active).

Forgive the pedantry.

Nick Berg, anger, and pacifism

Yes, it’s a bit of a rant. No, it’s not on porn or modesty or Christian historians, so that ought to be moderately refreshing:

In the aftermath of the terrible Nick Berg beheading video, I’ve been struck by the visceral shock and anger of so many of my fellow bloggers. Both Candace and Annika wrote lengthy and impassioned posts about the murder of this young American at the hands of Al Qaeda. Annika remarked:

Sadly, the liberal bloggers that i read regularly have all chosen to ignore this atrocity. It’s not a matter of left vs. right, Bush vs. not-Bush. Nick Berg was an American. How can anyone ignore his murder?

I can only speak for myself, but I haven’t ignored Nick Berg’s murder. I haven’t seen the video on the internet, either (only the images in the newspaper). What I have read about the murder makes clear that this was an appalling act of brutality, utterly without justification, an offense to human decency as well as to the essential tenets of Islam. I grieve for the family of this young man, and I am physically sickened by the details of his murder. And though I am also sickened by the images from Abu Ghraib, I am not going to make an indefensible argument that what was done to the folks in that prison is morally equivalent to what was done to Nick Berg. Is that enough, my conservative friends? Did you imagine that liberal silence on the subject indicated sympathy for Al Qaeda, or perhaps just ideological discomfort?

Look, I’m a Christian pacifist more than I am a “liberal”. My pacifism is not situational. And it is not rooted in idealistic illusions about human nature, either. Before the Nick Berg video, I was not under the impression that the boys in Al Qaeda were nice, reasonable folks, who just needed to be shown the love of Christ in order to bring them around to civilization. Real pacifists have no doubts about the reality of human depravity! Human beings do awful, disgusting, beastly things to each other — they’ve been doing those things for centuries; only recently have they insisted on filming themselves while they do it. So no, I haven’t “changed my mind” about anything as a result of being presented with video evidence of barbarism.

Most Christian pacifists throughout history have held to their pacifism in the face of incredible ugliness and persecution. I am tired of the accusation that Christian pacifism is a position of the “comfortably naive”, while just war theory is the position of the (apparently) “responsibly wise”. Pacifism flourished in the persecutions of 3rd century Rome, in 16th century Europe, and in 20th century South Africa. Sometimes the patient endurance of suffering impressed the oppressors so much that they rethought their oppression (the British in India), but most of the time, a lot of nice pacifists just got killed. I am a pacifist not because I believe that “love can change the world”, but because I believe that God can and does act dramatically in human history to change what we cannot. I believe that to follow Christ is to foreswear the use of weapons, even in self-defense. I believe that the victory over death and evil has already been won by Christ, and my only job is to follow Him.

Look, these are the musings of a childless man. (Pacifism, I’m told, gets a whole lot tougher when you have little ones). But despite what some of my more conservative and hawkish friends say (and they are truly friends), I am not a pacifist because I fail to comprehend the enormity of human wickedness, nor am I pacifist because I am a coward. I am a pacifist because my lord tells me that even while I grieve Nick Berg, and feel nausea and sadness and, yes, rage at his death, I must pray all the harder for the men who killed him. I must respond even to this unspeakable ugliness with love. If Nick Berg had been my brother, could I write those same words? In the short run, no; I would surely be overcome by an anger so intense that it blinded me. But in the end, no matter what my human emotions may be, I know the only way forward is forgiveness, and that, as my Savior taught me and as my church teaches, that forgiveness must be expressed in action. And responding to Nick Berg’s death with violence is incompatible with that understanding of forgiveness.

Trail running, Chinchillas, Pat Tillman, and country music theology

The weather in Southern California has been breathtaking the last two days. This morning, we did a thirteen-miler run up in the hills behind Monrovia, just east of Pasadena. My body is now well-recovered from the near-disaster of April 3’s 50K. No big races ahead on the schedule, just some easy running.

The fact that it is hot means the central air conditioner must be on full blast all day. Chinchillas do not do well when the temperature gets over 75, and can die rapidly once it climbs over 80. It will be a very expensive next few months, making certain that my little 1.5 pound Matilde is kept cool in the swelter of a Pasadena late spring and summer!

I passed 20,000 hits sometime early this morning; I know that doesn’t mean 20,000 unique visitors, but it still is a lot of folks coming here since mid-January. Thanks. I’ve decided to add a sidebar of a few of my most popular posts.

Okay, here’s Saturday’s rant which will no doubt infuriate one or two folks:

Annika had a touching post yesterday about the death of Pat Tillman (the NFL player killed in Afghanistan). I disagree with Annika’s politics, but I confess I was quite moved by what she wrote. But then, alas, the little pacifist theologian who lives in my head got mad. Annika quoted the song “American Soldier” by country singer Toby Keith, which included these lines:

Oh, and I don’t want to die for you,
But if dyin’s asked of me,
I’ll bear that cross with honor,
‘Cause freedom don’t come free.

One of the things that many Christians who believe in the efficacy of war have a tendency to do is to confuse “dying” with “killing”. This goes all the way back to Julia Ward Howe’s ringing final lines of the Battle Hymn of the Republic: “As He died to make men holy, we shall die to make men free.” Stirring it may be (I love that hymn, I weep whenever I sing it) but it’s poor theology.

Jesus himself died for us on a cross; last time I made my way through the Gospels, he didn’t kill for us. Soldiers have but one life to give for their country, but their real usefulness, alas, lies in their willingness to kill for their country. American forces, everyone agrees, have done most of the killing and relatively little of the dying in Iraq and Afghanistan. I have no desire to see American lives lost. I am sorry that Pat Tillman died; he seemed to be an unusually intelligent and thoughtful man. But it is troubling to me that those who grieve his death compare the sacrifice of an armed soldier to the non-violent sacrifice prescribed in the New Testament.

We are all called to the cross. Jesus says “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” The Christian life is not always one of joy and happiness; it can be and perhaps even should be one of pain and sacrifice. If suffering was all that soldiers did in war, then a Toby Keith could claim that they were truly taking up the cross. For those of us within the pacifist Anabaptist tradition, inflicting suffering — even upon one’s enemies — is antithetical to the spirit of the cross. Our soldiers may be good men engaged in a noble cause, but their methods are not those that Jesus or his disciples used. Jesus, Stephen, Peter, Paul; they and others after them went to their deaths willingly. But they darned sure never took anyone else’s life along the way. Though it may serve the songwriters to do so, connecting the martyrdom of the doves with the sacrifice of the hawks is bad history, bad politics, and bad theology.

In the countless talks and arguments I have with non-pacifist Christians, I am always keenly aware that there are indeed good men and women of sound theology who defend the compatibility of war and faith. I respect the “just war” tradition, even as the historian in me is convinced it is a 4th century construct designed to placate the Roman Empire. I need to say yet again that I grieve all of those who die in war, including those who die in combat. But I cannot equate the profession of soldiering with Jesus’ command to take up His cross, and even in a time of sadness, I am troubled — and angered — by the appropriation of that sacred image to honor men who die with blood on their hands.

Capital punishment, war, abortion, consistency, and the obvious absence of coffee.

In my post below on Kevin Cooper (whose execution in California was stayed overnight by the Ninth Circuit, a stay that was upheld by the Supremes), I linked to the Save Kevin Cooper website. XRLQ pointed out, correctly, that I seemed to be making two separate arguments for sparing Cooper — one based on doubts about his guilt, the other based on a blanket opposition to capital punishment. While the arguments can be complementary, of course, I realize that the first argument is actually irrelevant for me as a Christian. Heck, in my as of yet not fully awake state, I repent of having made it at all.

If we put time and energy as anti-death penalty activists into questioning the guilt of those on death row, we imply that we believe that capital punishment can be appropriately applied to the truly guilty. The historic position of Mennonites (which I mentioned below) has generally been that the death penalty is never appropriate, regardless of the guilt or innocence of the condemned person. To my mind, Cooper’s execution is fundamentally immoral, and I will grieve his judicial murder (should it in fact still take place, as it may well) without giving a moment’s thought to whether he actually committed the crime. Is that willfull ignorance on my part? Perhaps. But the tragedy of capital punishment is not that it sometimes is applied unjustly, it is that that capital punishment is inherently unjust.

Most Mennonites don’t debate whether wars are “just” are not, because (thank the good Lord) we believe all wars to be inherently “unjust”. The whole notion of a Just War tradition may be an interesting and fascinating intellectual exercise to us, but ultimately, when people kill people, we pacifists tend not to be too concerned with the rationale behind that killing. We reject the Just War tradition entirely in favor of an ethical pacifism that bravely (perhaps stubbornly) refuses to acknowledge the delicate distinctions that our fellow Christians make. That radical consistency also applies to our feelings on capital punishment.

But here is where my liberal friends will leave me: though I remain conflicted in my own mind as to how best to work to end abortion, I am convinced that the “rape exemption” is equally intellectually and spiritually untenable. Just as the guilt or innocence of Kevin Cooper is irrelevant to my opposition to his execution, so too are the circumstances of the conception of the preborn child irrelevant to the question of that child’s right to be born. I cannot even begin to imagine how traumatic it must be to carry a child conceived in violence to term. The fact that it must be unspeakably difficult and tremendously painful does not mean that it is not the fundamentally right thing to do. (How long before they pull me out of my classroom and tell me I am not fit to teach Women’s Studies — my favorite class — any longer?)

These are radical arguments. To most, they seem simplistic and easy. I once held far more nuanced positions, positions that I thought were reflective of my recognition of the complexity of situations like abortion, war, and capital punishment. But maybe sometimes, folks, the way of the cross isn’t as subtle as we highly educated western Christians think it is. Of course, it’s early morning, and this insufficiently-caffeinated fellow could be totally wrong.

Give me that old time Anabaptism!

Mennonite Weekly Review has this collection of quotations on war from the “founding fathers” of the radical reformation, the men who bequeathed to us our enduring commitment to total non-violence.

Here’s one I didn’t know, from Menno Simons, for whom our denomination is named:

The regenerated do not go to war, nor engage in strife. They are children of peace who have beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning forks, and know no war. . . . Our weapons are not weapons with which cities and countries may be destroyed, walls and gates broken down, and human blood shed in torrents like water. But they are weapons with which the spiritual kingdom of the devil is destroyed. . . . Christ is our fortress; patience our weapon of defense; the Word of God our sword. . . . Iron and metal spears and swords we leave to those who, alas, regard human blood and swine’s alike.

Menno and his Foundations of Christian Doctrine are to us what Calvin’s Institutes are to his followers. Not quite scripture, but darned tootin’ important.

Mennonite news

I know you aren’t all keeping up with the Mennonite Weekly Review, but two articles this week caught my eye.

James Schrag has a short editorial on “bridging the gap” between the antiwar and the pro-life movements (given that Mennonites are just about the only folks regularly to march for both causes). Here’s an excerpt:

Mennonites are prime candidates to bridge the gulf between the antiwar and antiabortion causes. Our pacifism grows from a desire to follow Jesus’ teachings fully. It is based on a conviction that it is always wrong to kill, not on an analysis of whether killing might be justified in a particular situation. Our antiwar position therefore has an affinity with the prolife movement, which is based on a similarly absolute conviction that human life is sacred.
Yet here’s where the tension arises: Each group views the other as inconsistent. “How can you claim to believe all life is sacred,” says the antiwar person, “if you don’t object to the killing of Iraqi soldiers and civilians?” The antiabortion person replies, “How can you claim to believe killing is always wrong if you don’t object to the destruction of life in the womb?”

The convenient thing about dwelling on other people’s inconsistencies is that it saves us from facing our own. Rather than denouncing the failings of others, people in both camps could more profitably search their own hearts and ask themselves: Ought I develop a stronger conviction against abortion? Ought I develop a stronger conviction against war?
We need to lay aside the attitude that says, “I won’t listen to you about war unless you agree with me about abortion,” or, “I won’t listen to you about abortion unless you agree with me about war.” This approach leaves everyone stuck in their own rut, tearing each other down.

And on a marginally lighter note, all Anabaptists should be troubled by this: UPN is proposing a new reality show, to be entitled “Amish in the City.” When I first became a Mennonite, I had to do a lot of explaining to folks who got us confused with our distant cousins, the Amish. Though most contemporary Mennonites live far more modern lives than the Amish, our theologies are still quite similar, both rooted in the 16th century “radical reformation”. So I feel a personal anguish when I hear that the Amish might become a subject for ridicule and exposure.

Here’s what the jack#@s who runs the network said: “To have people who don’t have television walk down Rodeo Drive and be freaked out by what they see, I think will be interesting television,” CBS chairman Leslie Moonves, who also oversees UPN, told the Associated Press. “It will not be denigrating to the Amish.”

Anabaptist historian and sociologist Donald Kraybill responded: “It’s really ridiculous for a whole host of reasons. I think it’s highly sensational and it sort of makes the assumption that the Amish are unenlightened, and that these other people are going to enlighten them, and then everyone’s going to laugh… It’s just really repulsive to me,” Kraybill said. “I think there could be a substantial movement against it, if someone would organize it.”