First Parish Unitarian UniversalistBlessed are the Peacemakers—Part Three
A sermon preached by the Reverend Diane D. Teichert
First Parish Unitarian Universalist - Canton, MA
May 20, 2007
Reading
Long excerpts from the chapter on War in Letters to My Son: A Father's Wisdom on Manhood, Life, and Love by Kent Nerburn
Sermon
What does a father say to a son about war?
This past week, a local father and son were prominent in the news about the war in Iraq. What did that father say to his son about war?
The father, Andrew Bacevich of Walpole, retired Army colonel, military strategist, Vietnam and Gulf War Veteran, and Professor of International Relations and History at Boston University, opposed the invasion of Iraq on strategic grounds before it began, as he stated in numerous articles in conservative and liberal news journals alike, as early as March 2003 and most recently last month in Commonweal, a Catholic journal.
His son, First Lieutenant Andrew J. Bacevich of Walpole, nevertheless enlisted in the Army in 2005, was deployed to Iraq and, sadly, was killed there by the improvised explosive device strapped to an insurgent’s body, on Mother’s Day, a week ago today.
What did that father say to his son about war?
“He was supportive of Andy’s decision,” said his sisters in a WBUR radio interview on Wednesday (“ Bacevich Sisters Honor Andy” by Fred Thys, WBUR, May 16, 2007).
I think the son’s decision to follow in his father’s combat footsteps reveals them both to be warrior-type of people. It’s a type I struggle to understand, but want to respect. The author of our reading this morning said of the warrior perspective, “If you believe that any war declared by our country is a just war, because our country is an honorable, if imperfect, society, then you can assert the higher order of patriotism and fight whenever the country asks.”
Don’t you think the warrior’s motives must be drawn from deeper than that, though? They must involve something deeper than merely a belief that one’s country is honorable. It must be more like love.
In the radio interview, one of the Bacevich sisters said of Andy,
“I think he really was a very patriotic person, and I think he really just loved his country, and wanted to do his part. He felt that that was a way that he could find a way to show his love and provide service to his country.”
It must be love of country that motivates a warrior.
She went on to explain her own view, “I feel like the reasons that we went into it were very wrong, but I also feel like there's some obligation to engage with Iraq, because our country made that decision. We went [down] that road, and now, we have to see it through. Our brother was doing his part to see that that indeed occurred.”
What did that father say to his son?
I don’t know what the retired Army colonel and military strategist said to his son, but here is what he said to us, his fellow American citizens, last month in the article in Commonweal (April 6, 2007) about President Bush’s “surge policy.”
“…The president’s “freedom agenda” is defunct. Iraq no longer figures as “Phase One” of some grand multiphased project. Visitors from Washington no longer hector government officials in Saudi Arabia and Egypt about the need to promote women’s rights or permit freedom of the press. Meanwhile, U.S. diplomats have met in Baghdad with representatives of Iran and Syria, regimes the Bush administration had previously classified as pariahs. Expediency once again supplants principle. Improvisation has become the order of the day. The ongoing effort to prevent the Persian Gulf from descending into chaos could well be called Operation Duct Tape.
The odds of the surge restoring order to Baghdad are not good. It is a case of too little, too late. Yet even those opposing the war must hope for its success: the surge represents what may be the last chance of limiting the disastrous consequences of President Bush’s march to folly in Iraq.
Whatever the outcome, the surge will complete our president’s education. Having sacrificed many thousands of lives, both American and Iraqi, and having expended a half-trillion dollars, he will have learned that American power has limits, that the world is not infinitely malleable, and that stability may not be such a bad thing after all. Seldom has a tutorial in the fundamentals of statecraft come at such an exorbitant cost.”
That is what the father said to us, his fellow citizens, while his son was fighting in the war he describes as “folly.” We can only imagine the grief the father must feel.
What do we say to our sons and daughters, to ourselves?
Fourteen people came on Friday to view the documentary “Ground Truth” about the war in Iraq (which is available for rent at many video stores, if you missed it). 12 came in the afternoon and 2 in the evening, of the total 3 were not parishioners, they were Canton residents who had seen my news release published in the Canton Citizen, the rest were parishioners, plus our Administrative Assistant, Janice Lewis.
Her son Christopher is with the 82 nd Airborne. She shared a bit of his story after the film and agreed I could share it with you this morning. I gathered Christopher is a warrior-type, in the true meaning of the word, like the Bacevich father and son. He enlisted at age 19 because he wanted to serve his country militarily, not for college tuition aid or because he “needed structure in his life.” He wanted to be a soldier and serve the country he loves.
Christopher has seen combat in the first Gulf War and in both Afghanistan and Iraq; he is stateside right now. He has received two combat medals—he told her about the circumstances of the first, but not the second. She knows he’s seen much more than he has told her about. She said Friday that he feels the military has been good to him.
But, she says, recently even Christopher has questioned whether this war is worthwhile. When even the warriors are questioning a war, it’s high time for us all to pay attention.
One of the injured servicemen interviewed in the film “Ground Truth” said that since he’s been home people ask how he lost his hand. He replies, “In the war.” One man asked, “What war?” He said, “ Iraq.” The guy said, “Are we still there?”
Imagine!
But how many of us have tired of the news from Iraq? Are we in danger of forgetting we’re at war?
Watching “Ground Truth,” I was moved to tears by the veterans’ statements of deep regret for what they’ve done and seen. One whose consternated face I remember well said something like this, “It would be okay if we’d just killed combatants. I mean, it’s a war, that’s what happens in war, combatants kill each other. But, when you’ve seen dead children, man, that’s what messes with your mind. Dead women. A pregnant woman. That messes with you.”
Imagine! These veterans are received as heroes at home by family, friends, their communities, the entire nation… but inside themselves many feel not pride, but doubt and regret. Are we in danger of sharing their guilt and post-traumatic stress syndrome?
Much as a father has to decide what to say to his young son about war, much as a son has to decide for himself what to do, much as a father must support his son whatever his decision, much as some mothers and daughters are having these very same conversations because women now are increasingly joining the military too and could be included in a draft if we have one, much as we wish the problem of this war was someone else’s problem… as citizens, it has come to the point that each of us really does have to grapple with the fundamental question raised in the Reading this morning: Am I a pacifist? Am I a warrior? Am I a proponent of “just wars” only and, if so, by what criteria do I judge it as “just”?—is it “just” if it’s worth children dying for, as author Kent Nerburn suggests? And does the present one in Iraq qualify?
March 18 th was the Sunday closest to the fourth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq by U.S. and coalition armed forces. Our worship service that day was a heartfelt “prayer for peace,” for which these paper doves you see here in the sanctuary first appeared and during which we rang our Paul Revere bell 32 times, each peal that rang out represented 2 of the Massachusetts soldiers killed in Iraq by that time, 100 of the nearly 3200 US soldiers killed in Iraq, 10,000 of the estimated 300,000 Iraqis killed, and 100,000 of the estimated 3.8 million Iraqis who have fled their homes.
A month later, on April 15 th, the sermon continued this theme of Peacemaking, looking back into the history of Unitarianism and Universalism and, after the merger, UUism, in the U.S. in regard to pacifism versus support of various wars. We learned that we are not one of the “peace churches” like the Quakers, Brethren and Mennonites but leaders of our movement, clergy and lay, have taken both pro and con positions, sometimes—as in regard to the Viet Nam War—both at the same time, splitting some congregations.
Today, our Peacemaking theme advances to the present.
With 1000 other Unitarian Universalist congregations, we are in a three year process of considering a resolution at our annual General Assembly: Should the Unitarian Universalist Association reject the use of any and all kinds of violence and war to resolve disputes between peoples and nations and adopt a principle of seeking “just peace” through nonviolent means? Or “Should we adopt a specific and detailed “just war” policy to guide our witness?”
At a minimum, we at First Parish in Canton can pray for peace, as we did on March 18 th, tapping our inner strength, and inspiring ourselves as individuals to work for whatever path to peace seems most promising to each of us.
At a minimum, we can learn our history as we did on April 15th, and continue that history by letting our denominational leaders speak out for us. For example, our current president, Rev. William Sinkford, sent a pastoral letter to members of Congress opposing the then-proposed “surge.”
But, collectively, do we want to be more? Can we be more? What more would we want to be? By what process, by what majority, would we decide?
Now four years after the US invasion of Iraq, should we Unitarian Universalists depart from our history and seek status as a “peace church?” Should we, either as a denomination or as a congregation, take a position for pacifism, or for a “just war” policy, or should we take no position? Should we, either as a denomination or as a congregation, take a position regarding withdrawal of troops from Iraq?
One nearby UU congregation publicly opposed the invasion of Iraq before it started. In the fall of 2002, the 85-member Bell Street Chapel in Providence, which has a history of activism, engaged itself in a process of reflection, education and conversation and several congregational meetings regarding the impending war. The minister preached a series on religious grounds for non-violence. They studied ways to deal with conflict such as “offering curiosity to those who see it differently,” “don’t impose your views on others” “hold your ground” and “don’t push for a decision to early, trust the process.” They conducted a congregational survey asking if people favored passing a resolution and, if so, by what majority and what elements did they wish it to include?
The survey led to a decision to require a super-majority of 85% and a resolution was drafted. In December, it failed by one vote to reach the 85% threshold, so they sent it back to the governing board for re-drafting, which gave them a month to think about it and reckon with the very real question: how do you retain membership in a group in which you are a minority?
The second draft was passed in mid-January by a 97% majority. They then issued a press release which resulted in a front-page newspaper article and television coverage, and from then on participated in a peace coalition and in peace rallies with their congregational banner. This many years later, the minister there views the process and the decision to have contributed to the re-vitalization of the congregation.
Certainly, Bell Street Chapel is unique among UU congregations, indeed it must be unique among congregations of all faith traditions. It may not be our story, but I tell their story as an illustration of a process that enabled them to stay in relationship with each other—no one left in anger—and to feel they were making a difference in the world.
Here is the resolution they adopted on January 12, 2003:
“As Unitarian Universalists we hold to the goal of a world community
With peace, liberty and justice for all.
Therefore, we call on our national leaders to
Use creative, peaceful means to resolve conflict with Iraq,
To stand with other nations in the international community
Who are working for the elimination of weapons of mass destruction,
To support the international promotion of human rights and
To cease advocating preemptive war.
We support the members of our congregation
Who are taking public stands for peace
And encourage them to witness for our religious community.”
At White Bear UU Church in Minnesota, where I spent nearly a month of my 2006 sabbatical, a large sign sits on the front lawn: Blessed Are the Peacemakers.
This past week, I passed a congregational church in Tiverton, Rhode Island that now has a wide vinyl banner strung above its main entrance proclaiming “Imagine Peace.” It wasn’t there when I drove by last December. I don’t know the process that led to it being there. Though it isn’t an overtly political statement, at least it reminds passers-by, as it reminded me, that we are indeed at war and asks us to imagine the alternative.
In two weeks, in my sermon on June 3 rd, I plan to broaden our consideration of Peacemaking to look at the First Parish approach to social action work in general, in preparation for the Annual Meeting the following Tuesday. At that meeting, we will vote on a resolution that if passed will add our collective voice to an interfaith movement in support of equal marriage in Massachusetts. And, at that meeting, we will also consider steps outlined in our draft Strategic Plan designed to help us to tap our passions for justice so that we might, in the words of Bell Street Chapel, “witness for our religious community” in the wider world. You can also hear more about that at the Forum at Noon today.
May our thoughts and words and deeds be guided, always, by love--
Love for country, love for the sons and daughters of the world.
Amen.