Much has been written and said in response to September 11, much of it having to do with matters of war and peace, and on this anniversary of the event I would like to offer some personal reflections, and beg your indulgence in several ways. Some of you have thought much more about this than I, and may find my thoughts amusingly amateurish. Some of you may disagree with my observations, and so I offer them humbly, as a Christian brother's attempt to grapple with important issues. I offer, then, seven opinions and observations for your consideration.
1. I Consider Terrorism A Reprehensible Act
Some voices have pointed out that we face all sorts of terror. The carnage
on our highways, for example, claims far more lives per year than those who
died in the terrorist acts of September 11. When I travel on the highway,
however, I know the odds of being killed. I can take measures to minimize the
risk, like driving the speed limit and not driving when I'm tired. There are no
measures one can take to prevent a cowardly and insane act like flying an
aeroplane into a building. It's more akin to a thief or vandal breaking into my
home. I find it cowardly, invasive, and it makes me angry.
Some have pointed out that just as the September terrorists killed innocent
civilians, so we are now killing innocent civilians in Afghanistan. In no way do I
wish to justify the latter, but Afghanistan had ample warning of the declaration of
war, and there is no such thing as a clean war.
Others have pointed out that our targeting of terrorists is selective, that we
have only to remember that we now accept former terrorists, such as Ben Gurion
in Israel or Martin McGuiness in Northern Ireland, as successful political leaders.
That may be the case, but in my mind that makes acts of terrorism no less
shameful.
2. An Emotional, Soul-Searching Upheaval
The September terrorist acts have elicited many quick and emotional
responses among us. I confess that I found the rush to political analysis, even as
early as September 12, quite unseemly. I needed time to grieve. Some
immediately "circled the wagons," and declared their solidarity with "their" people,even people who heretofore received only their criticism.
Another quick response was to attach blame, and one of the more
ridiculous public attempts was made by Christian leaders who blamed "the
pagans, ...the abortionists, ...the feminists, ...the gays and the lesbians..., the
ACLU, (and) People For the American Way...." (Jerry Falwell, with Pat
Robertson's concurrence, September 13, 2001) It's not for nothing that the
magazine, "The New Republic," has set up an "Idiocy Watch". Emotional times
bring forth emotional outbursts, among which have been those blaming the
United States itself! It's done under the guise of analysis, and no doubt American
foreign policy has much for which it is answerable, but it was not Americans who
flew those planes into those buildings! Of course, it doesn't elevate the level of
discussion when "Newsweek" lambasts any serious discussion of foreign policy
by saying, "Critics of the war on terrorism don't seem to understand: someone is
trying to kill them," and then goes on label all critics as "knee-deep in ignorant
and dangerous appeasement of...terrorism...." (Jonathan Alter, "Blame America
at your Peril," Newsweek, October 15, 2001)
The September events have tapped into a deep vein of emotions, not
helped, of course, when escalated by those in leadership. I do not find it helpful
when the US Vice President says, "We are dealing here with evil people," or
when the US President calls terrorists "evil doers," as if they are a non-human
cancer which needs to be destroyed. We too are capable of evil, and though our
own evil-doing may or may not take the form of terrorism, evil is evil is evil, and a simplistic division of the world into good and evil serves no one well.
I also found it less than helpful when the British Prime Minister spoke
constantly of "standing shoulder to shoulder with America," a phrase that was
picked up again and again by other leaders. This language of "taking sides" only
raises the already high temperature and precludes any creative attempts to
improve a difficult situation. It stifles dissent, if not discussion, and that also
doesn't serve anyone well.
3. I Consider Pacifism a Noble Tradition, not an Evil One
Quoting the Scriptural phrase, "Whoever is not with me is against me" (Matthew 12:30), the writer went on to use the following logic: "Organized terrorist groups have attacked America. These groups wish the Americans to not fight. The American pacifists wish the Americans to not fight. If the Americans do not fight, the terrorists will attack America again. And now we know such attacks can kill many thousands of Americans. The American pacifists, therefore, are on the side of future mass murders of Americans. They are objectively pro-terrorist. ...That is the pacifists' position, and it is evil." ("Pacifist Claptrap") Bizarre logic, perhaps, but the same writer went on, a week later, to label pacifists as
"intellectually dishonest, elitist and hypocritical," as well as "liars" and "frauds," and asked "How many pacifists would be willing to accept the logical outcome of their creed of nonviolence even in face of attack--life as a conquered people?" (Michael Kelly, "Phony Pacifists," Washington Post, October 3, 2001) And not content to leave the question a rhetorical one, the author wrote, "Not many."
I am an heir of a long and noble pacifist tradition, and I take exception to
such malignment of pacifists in the names of Christians through the centuries
who lived as conquered people rather than disobey our Lord's injunction to
"resist not" the evildoer. (Matthew 5:39) It's a tradition that spans at least twenty centuries, a movement inaugurated, one could say, when Jesus pronounced a
blessing upon peace-makers (Matthew 5:9). It was exemplified most
courageously and honourably when our Lord himself accepted crucifixion rather
than call down ten thousand angels (Matthew 26:53) to "smoke out" the Romans!
For three centuries the Early Church embraced pacifism, leaving us a rich
legacy of courage, as men like Polycarp (69-155) chose to die rather than take
up the sword. Any criticism of pacifism that we hear today Christians already
heard centuries ago. Celsus, the 2nd century pagan critic of Christianity, said, "If all...were to do the same as you, there would be nothing to prevent the king from being left in utter solitude and desertion and the forces of the empire would fall into the hands of the wildest and most lawless barbarians." (Roland H. Bainton, Christian Attitudes toward War and Peace) Well, the Roman empire fell, and life went on, didn't it?
Unfortunately, the non-resistance tradition was hijacked by Emperor
Constantine in the 4th century, when he declared everyone a Christian, and
waging war became a Christian duty! Even so, Christ's teaching and example
were not forgotten, and some Christians said, "Well, if we must have war, at least
let it be a just war," and meetings and conferences were held, and papers
written, trying to outline the distinguishing marks of a just war. The just war
theory looks better on paper then in reality, given the addictive nature of
violence, but it was at least an attempt to temper the more unseemly aspects
and excesses of war. And while these discussions were going on, the pacifist
tradition did not die; it was kept alive in the monasteries.
Our reading from 2 Thessalonians tells us to "stand firm and hold fast to
the traditions that you were taught" (2 Thessalonians 2:15), traditions that we
ourselves trace back to the Soviet Union and Switzerland and Prussia and the
Reformation, John Hus, the monasteries, the Early Church, and Jesus. Jesus
himself drew on the Old Testament prophets like Micah, who spoke of a time
when "...nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more; but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig
trees, and no one shall make them afraid; ...the mouth of the Lord of hosts has
spoken." (Micah 4:3-4)
I also take exception to ridicule of pacifism, because having once left the
Mennonite Church, I came back to it because of its peace tradition, and that
tradition's rootage in, and demonstration of, a peaceable community. One
satisfying personal realization in the last two months has been that while I was
deeply angered by the terrorist attacks, I found that it did not erode my
commitment to peace. It was satisfying to realize that it is a non-negotiable
element of my faith, though it has not been severely tested, of course. On the
other hand, if Mennonites are willing to abandon their peace tradition on anger
and fright alone, you can be certain it will not be strong enough to stand up to
severe testing.
4. The World Existed long before September 11
When the persecution of Christianity was abandoned by the Romans, it
was taken up by Rome's traditional enemy, the Persians, who embarked upon
the destruction of churches and a general massacre which left no less than
16,000 victims. Persecution in Persia lasted from the 4th to the 7th century.
Meanwhile, we were also persecuted by the Goths, the Visigoths, the
Ostrogoths, the face of terror on one much the same as on the next. Christians
also suffered greatly under Islamic rulers, as in Spain, for example, in the 9th
century, where it lasted for over a century, but especially frightening was when
the face of terror was the face of Christians--when the Church itself became the
face of terror, as in the 13th century Crusades, the 15th century Spanish
Inquisition, or in the attempt to exterminate Anabaptists in the 16th century.
One could go on and on with this recitation of terror, but suffice it to say
that Christian memory is sufficiently long, and hopefully sufficiently robust, to
give evidence of some equanimity when everyone else is rushing to the
battlements. As Paul told the believers in Thessalonica centuries ago, "...we beg
you, brothers and sisters, not to be quickly shaken in mind or alarmed.... (2
Thessalonians 2:1-2)
5. Our Security Is in God
Though it may sound pious to say so--but then, that's why we're here,
aren't we--it may sound pious, but Christian spirituality has always encouraged
us to find our security in God. "Trust in the Lord, and do good; so you will live in the land, and enjoy security," says the psalmist (Psalm 37:3); the Lord is our
"shield" (Psalm 115:9, 10 & 11).
We are accustomed to think that wars have won us freedom and security,
but some of the freest and securest people have lived in the most insecure of
times. Polycarp, one of the early church martyrs, is said to have fed the soldiers
who came to capture him and he went to his death with great peace. Thomas
Moore, in standing up to Henry the VIII faced long imprisonment and execution,
yet on his way to his death had great composure and even joked with his
executioner. There is a peace that the world cannot give and that cannot be
taken away, even under the threat of death.
6. In Remembrance of Alternative Service and Thought
Even if we manage to catch Osama bin Laden--and I'm assuming here that
he really is the one responsible for the terrorist acts in September--even if we
manage to "smoke him out" and bring him to justice, will that bring an end to
terrorism? John Paul Lederach, who teaches Conflict Resolution and Mediation
at Eastern Mennonite University and has been involved in international conflict
resolution and mediation for almost twenty years, beginning with the
Sandinista/Contra conflict in which he himself was held hostage, has risked life
and limb to work non-violently for peaceful international settlements. Reflecting
on the September terrorist attacks, he writes, "Though natural, the cry for
revenge and the call for the unleashing of the first war of this century, prolonged
or not, seems more connected to social and psychological processes of finding a
way to release deep emotional anguish, a sense of powerlessness, and our
collective loss than it does as a plan of action seeking to redress the injustice,
promote change and prevent it from ever happening again." ("The Challenge of
Terror: A Travelling Essay," September 16, 2001)
Lederach asks us to consider the roots of the anger directed against the
West. How do people reach this level of anger, hatred and frustration? It's
simplistic to think that it was done by people brainwashed by a perverted leader
who holds some kind of magical power over them. "Anger of this sort," he says,
"what we could call generational, identity-based anger, is constructed over time
through a combination of historical events, a deep sense of threat to identity, and
direct experiences of sustained exclusion." And our response to the immediate
events may very well reinforce and provide the soil, seeds, and nutrients for
future cycles of revenge and violence. We should avoid doing the predictable.
Avoid doing what is expected. What the terrorists expect from us, says Lederach,
"is the lashing out of the giant against the weak, the many against the few. This
will reinforce their capacity to perpetrate the myth they carefully seek to sustain:
That they are under threat, fighting an irrational and mad system that has never
taken them seriously and wishes to destroy them and their people. What we
need to destroy is their myth, not their people."
Surely there are intelligent people in the corridors of power who can plot
alternative strategies, who know very well that our biggest and most visible
weapon systems are useless in this situation. Their influence, however, may be
neutralized by those who are so busy waging war that there is no time for
thought. Lederach pleads for new metaphors to understand the present conflict;
perhaps the image of a virus is helpful because of its ability to enter unperceived,
flow with a system, and harm it from within. Content with the old metaphors,
however, we are choosing to "smoke out" a virus with cruise missiles, and in so
doing run the very serious risk of encouraging the environment that sustains and
reproduces that virus.
Even if we don't celebrate alternative thought, let's at least listen to
alternative thinkers, and not assume that the conventional course of action is the
correct one.
7. We Are Children of the Resurrection
In the Gospel reading we are reminded that we are "children of the
resurrection". I don't have time to elaborate on the rather arcane discussion in
our gospel reading, but whether or not you are a child of the resurrection made a
difference in that discussion. The New Testament, in fact, makes clear that the
resurrection of Jesus Christ is the cornerstone upon which the whole household
of faith is built. The Apostle Paul writes, in 1 Corinthians: "...if Christ has not been
raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain."
(1 Corinthians 15:14)
If as Christians we have a long history rooted in peace, that stretches back
twenty and more centuries, we also have a hope that takes us far beyond the
present moment. It is a hope that places its trust in God, who can bring good
even out of tragedy. As children of the resurrection, we hope and pray for the
same.
Firstly, I found myself reacting viscerally to the attacks on September 11. It was a terrible act, which terrorized many people. I have never experienced a war
firsthand, but it seems to me that though war itself creates a lot of terror, the
terror of war is not totally unexpected when it comes. After war has been
declared, one can conceivably expect attacks, and take some precautions, as
people did in the Second World War, for example, when sirens sent them
scurrying to bomb shelters. I have never lived in a country under occupation, but
it seems reasonable to me that the country being occupied can expect some
heavy-handedness now and then from the occupying power, and that the
occupier can expect resistance, even sabotage. I find acts of terrorism of another
sort altogether--a reprehensible, hideous human act designed to create a
maximum amount of death, fear, and destabilisation.
Secondly, there is something about the September 11 attacks that has caused
great soul-searching among us. Last week the board members of the Christian
Council of the Capital Area discussed a rather minor point in connection with
September 11, and that was whether to draft a letter to the government of
Canada suggesting ways in which the religious feelings of Canadians could be
acknowledged during ceremonies like the one held on Parliament Hill the week
of the attack. The discussion of this simple matter was a long and emotional one,
but not along denominational lines. It brought into play deep feelings and
doctrines--of faith, prayer, and humanity. Normally I am somewhat detached
from these charged discussions, content to sabotage a good fight with strategic
humour, but this time, somewhat to my surprise, I waded into the fray along with
everyone else!
Thirdly, I consider pacifism a noble tradition, and while it's not uncommon for
pacifists to be considered irrelevant, ineffective, perhaps even irresponsible, in
times of war, I was not a little surprised to read in the "Washington Post" that
pacifism is evil! (Michael Kelly, "Pacifist Claptrap," Washington Post, September
26, 2001) The "Post" writer said that "pacifists are not serious people," warning
that"there is a surface appeal to this notion, even for those who dismiss pacifism
as hopelessly naive". He also claimed that pacifism is pro-Fascist, is
"inescapably and profoundly immoral," and in the case of the specific situation
we're facing, pacifism is on the side of the murderers".
After that lengthy defence of pacifism, my fourth point is a very short, and
perhaps an obvious one, and that is to point out that the world existed long
before September 11. Bill Janzen's panoramic review of history in Adult Sunday
School has made me realize that Western dominance on the world scene is but
a recent and brief flash in the sweep of history. A year ago I spent my sabbatical
leave doing a quick read of twenty centuries of Christian history, enough to give
me a sense that our Christian memory is a long one, and over the centuries we
have seen terror with many other faces, be it the 1st century face of the Roman
emperor, Nero (reigned 54-68); the cruel 3rd century face of the Roman emperor,
Diocletian (245-313); or the 4th century face of Julian the Apostate. Though
Julian reigned but two years (361-63), and encouraged the persecution of
Christians, his rule was, in the words of St. Athanasius, "but a passing cloud".
Christians had seen this face before.
Fifthly, the September 11 attacks severely shook our sense of security, and for
some this is cause for alarm. A "Newsweek" writer wrote "'National security' is
not a government cover story any more, but a genuine problem. The terrorists
we're looking for aren't pathetic little pamphleteers, like the American communists targeted in the Red Scare." (Jonathan Alter, "Blame America at your Peril," Newsweek, October 15, 2001) One could point out that there was also fear of attack in North America during World Wars I and II, but there is something particularly frightening and insidious about people infiltrating our world and using our own technology to inflict enormous suffering and damage. It may sound like rhetoric to say that there is no security for anyone in the world unless there is security for all (Rick Salutin, "If Kandahar burns, will we feel safer?", Globe and Mail, November 2, 2001), but that seems more the case than ever now.
Sixthly, Remembrance Day is a day to pay homage to the heroes of war and peace, and I would include among them those who rendered alternative service as well as those who think about alternatives to war. It has struck me as strange that while much power in the world is now wielded by transnational corporations, and much terror can inflicted by transnational terrorist networks, it's still outdated nation states waging the wars! Our manner of waging war needs re-thinking and updating. Even non-pacifist, "non-evil" voices have pointed out that in rushing into war we may form alliances that we will come to regret and make decisions that go terribly wrong. (E. J. Dionne Jr., "A Just Struggle," The Washington Post, September 26, 2001)
Seventhly, let's remember, as Christians, who and whose we are. Were I to
preach an expository sermon on the biblical understanding of peace I would
have chosen biblical texts other than the ones that were read this morning, but I
was amazed how many phrases in today's readings resonate with a call to
remember our heritage of peace. In our call to worship from Psalm 17 we hear,
"...by the word of your lips I have avoided the ways of the violent...." (Psalm 17:4)
In the reading from Job we hear the comforting phrase, "I know that my
Redeemer lives (Job 19:25), a phrase that has sustained believers through
centuries of violent evidence to the contrary. In the 2 Thessalonians reading we
are reminded that we have reason "not to be quickly shaken in mind or
alarmed...." (2 Thessalonians 2:2), that we proclaim "good news" (2:14), and that
we are to "stand firm and hold fast to the traditions" we were taught. (2:15)
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.