June 10, 2007

In writing a three part defense of Catholic nonviolence and pacifism, I’ve been reading and reflecting heavily upon the Church’s teachings, especially papal encyclicals and messages. And within this process, I have found my heart moved. The wisdom and love of Christ has unearthed deep questions, and within those questions, I find an opportunity of conversion. Am I no longer an absolute pacifist, no longer an anarchist? Something different? Something deeper? At this point, all I know is that I am Catholic, radical, militant. Part three of Militant – the War of Mercy – is forthcoming. Again, I am amazed by God’s grace and power – the power to propel me down the path of faith, to true conversion, to true militancy.

Where do we turn to for conversion?

Resources for conversion:

Next in line – the great councils of the Church:

  1. Council of Nicaea I : 325 A.D.
  2. Council of Constantinople I : 381 A.D.
  3. Council of Ephesus : 431 A.D.
  4. Council of Chalcedon : 451 A.D.
  5. Council of Constantinople II : 553 AD
  6. Council of Constantinople III : 680-681 A.D.
  7. Council of Nicaea II : 787 A.D.
  8. Council of Constantinople IV : 869-870 A.D.
  9. Lateran Council I : 1123 A.D.
  10. Lateran Council II : 1139 A.D.
  11. Lateran Council III : 1179 A.D.
  12. Lateran Council IV : 1215 A.D.
  13. Council of Lyons 1 : 1245 A.D.
  14. Council of Lyons 2 : 1274 A.D.
  15. Council of Vienne : 1311-12 A.D.
  16. Council of Constance 1414-18 A.D.
  17. Council of Basel-Ferrara-Florence : 1431-1435 A.D.
  18. Lateran Council V : 1512-17 A.D.
  19. Council of Trent : 1545-63 A.D.
  20. Vatican Council I : 1869 AD
  21. Vatican Council 2: Index [Text version – at RCNET]
    Vatican Council 2: Index [HTML versions – at EWTN]

Here are something interesting to think about, and a prelude to Militant, Part 3:

We prohibit under anathema that murderous art of crossbowmen and archers, which is hateful to God
– Second Lateran Council

The more I learn from the Church, the more I love the Church. The more I love the Church, the more I learn from the Church. And all the while, I grow closer and closer to being the person Christ has destined me to be. St. Augustine, pray for us!

June 6, 2007

Part 1: Nonviolence vs. The Just-War

Part 2: Justice vs. Mercy
Part 3: The War of Mercy

(Disclaimer: I hope that this discussion can lead all of us to a closer look at Church teachings, and so I have tried to keep my thoughts focused upon the Magisterium’s teachings. It’s my hope that any discussion provoked by this post will maintain the same mindset. Though we can find truth in many places, why not go to its source – Christ and his Church? I’ve avoided scripture because as Catholics, our understanding of scripture should first be firmly grounded within Catholic thought. I’ve avoided specific situations of pacifism because they focus on application before understanding. And finally, I’ve avoided judgmental talk of good and evil, of sins and saints. I’m not out to condemn anyone. I’m out to discover truth.)

Recap of Militant, Part 1:
Nonviolence vs. Just-War

(God) does not oppose violence with a stronger violence. He opposes violence precisely with the contrary: with love to the end, his cross . . . With his love — and only thus is it possible — he puts a limit to violence . . . it is the true way of overcoming evil.
– Pope Benedict XVI (26July2006 Zenit)

Christian nonviolence – loving our enemy by dying for him, is the true way to conquer evil.

“Christians, even as they strive to resist and prevent every form of warfare, have no hesitation in recalling that, in the name of an elementary requirement of justice, peoples have a right and even a duty to protect their existence and freedom by proportionate means against an unjust aggressor”
– Pope JPII (1982 Peace Message)

While only love truly defeats evil, justice demands that we defend the innocent. Without justice, can there be love? Without justice, can there be peace?

There is no peace without justice.
There is no justice without forgiveness.”

– Pope JPII (2005 Peace Message)

I decided to leave the military because I could not reconcile love with justice, I could not reconcile mercy with justice. I still can’t. But I must.

Militant, Part 2:
Justice vs. Mercy

In order to understand the relationship between nonviolence and the just-war theory, I need to understand the relationship between mercy and justice. What does the Church teach? What is justice? What is mercy? How are they related?

“Justice makes whole, it does not destroy; it leads to reconciliation, not to revenge. Upon examination, at its deepest level it is rooted in love, which finds its most significant expression in mercy. Therefore justice, if separated from merciful love, becomes cold and cutting.”
– Pope JPII (1998 Peace Message)”justice is based on love, flows from it and tends towards it”
– Pope JPII (1980 Encyclical Dives in misericordia)

Justice is based on love, ‘merciful love’. This clarifies the relationship, but then again – I still feel as if mercy and justice are opposing forces. How does one reconcile the call of mercy with the demands of justice? How can I be merciful to my enemy while sticking a bayonet into his throat? There is a true contrast between my understanding of mercy and justice. How do I resolve that?

“In this way, mercy is in a certain sense contrasted with God’s justice, and in many cases is shown to be not only more powerful than that justice but also more profound. Even the Old Testament teaches that, although justice is an authentic virtue in man, and in God signifies transcendent perfection nevertheless love is “greater” than justice: greater in the sense that it is primary and fundamental. Love, so to speak, conditions justice and, in the final analysis, justice serves love. The primacy and superiority of love vis-a-vis justice – this is a mark of the whole of revelation – are revealed precisely through mercy.”
– Pope JPII (1980 Encyclical Dives in misericordia)

If merciful love is fundamental and superior to justice, then what does this tell us about the relationship between mercy and justice?

“The experience of the past and of our own time demonstrates that justice alone is not enough, that it can even lead to the negation and destruction of itself, if that deeper power, which is love, is not allowed to shape human life in its various dimensions.”
– Pope JPII (1980 Encyclical Dives in misericordia)

The quest for justice, if unshaped by merciful love, will only produce injustice.

“Mercy constitutes the fundamental content of the messianic message of Christ and the constitutive power of His mission. His disciples and followers understood and practiced mercy in the same way. Mercy never ceased to reveal itself, in their hearts and in their actions, as an especially creative proof of the love which does not allow itself to be “conquered by evil,” but overcomes “evil with good.”
– Pope JPII (1980 Encyclical Dives in misericordia)

Mercy is the foundation of Christian justice. And within this truth, we begin to see the true nature of justice itself. Justice is about persons, not about laws. Justice is the rightly-ordered harmony that exists between persons. Often, these relationships are broken and injustice reigns. But the Church teaches that justice can only be restored through mercy. Only in merciful love can relationships be truly healed. Only a justice founded upon love can lead to peace.

“Thus there is no contradiction between forgiveness and justice. Forgiveness neither eliminates nor lessens the need for the reparation which justice requires, but seeks to reintegrate individuals and groups into society, and States into the community of Nations.”
– Pope JPII (1997 Peace Message)

Forgiveness is the prerequisite for justice. Mercy takes primacy over justice, for without mercy and forgiveness, there can be no justice.

There is no peace without justice.
There is no justice without forgiveness.”

– Pope JPII (2005 Peace Message)

If mercy is required for justice, then the just-war theory must be founded upon merciful love of enemies. Otherwise, its goal of restoring justice is destined to failure. But there is another side to this relationship: the goal of mercy must be justice.

“Properly understood, justice constitutes, so to speak, the goal of forgiveness. In no passage of the Gospel message does forgiveness, or mercy as its source, mean indulgence towards evil, towards scandals, towards injury or insult.
– Pope JPII (1980 Encyclical Dives in misericordia)

Mercy cannot indulge evil – it must combat evil. Mercy cannot ignore injury or insult, it cannot ignore injustice. Rather, mercy must be aimed at the restoration of justice, at the restoration of the relationships between persons.

What is the relationship between nonviolence and the just-war, between mercy and justice?

Be peaceful, therefore, in warring, so that you may vanquish those whom you war against, and bring them to the prosperity of peace.
– St. Augustine (Ep. ad Bonif. clxxxix)

The only war capable of restoring justice is a war founded upon mercy and aimed at justice: a just-war of nonviolence. Part III explores the paradox of the cross, where war meets nonviolence: The War of Mercy.

June 4, 2007

Part 1: Nonviolence vs. The Just-War

Part 2: Justice vs. Mercy
Part 3: The War of Mercy

(Disclaimer: I hope that this discussion can lead all of us to a closer look at Church teachings, and so I have tried to keep my thoughts focused upon the Magisterium’s teachings. It’s my hope that any discussion provoked by this post will maintain the same mindset. Though we can find truth in many places, why not go to its source – Christ and his Church? I’ve avoided scripture because as Catholics, our understanding of scripture should first be firmly grounded within Catholic thought. I’ve avoided specific situations of pacifism because they focus on application before understanding. And finally, I’ve avoided judgmental talk of good and evil, of sins and saints. I’m not out to condemn anyone. I’m out to discover truth.)

Militant, Part 1:
Nonviolence vs. The Just War

I expect that so long as we live in a world fraught with sin and man’s capacity to commit evil and grave injustice, war will “always be with us.” So too, I imagine, the necessity of responding in grave situations with the use of force.
– Christopher Blosser (Ratz Fan Club)

My experiences as a PFC in the 3rd Ranger Battalion and as a Cadet at the United States Military academy (from 2000-2004), changed me forever. In the military, I discovered Jesus Christ, his Church, and the nucleus of the Christian revolution: loving my enemy.

“Loving the enemy is the nucleus of the “Christian revolution,” . . . The revolution of love . . . Here is the newness of the Gospel which silently changes the world! Here is the heroism of the “lowly” who believe in God’s love and spread it, even at the cost of their lives.
– Pope Benedict XVI (Angelus 18FEB2007)

Within the Gospel, I saw a new form of sacrifice, a new form of heroism, a new way of changing the world – dying to save my enemies rather than dying to kill them. I could not love my enemies by killing them. And so my life changed forever.

Ever since seeking and receiving discharge from the military as a conscientious objector, I have had to defend my decision – from family, from friends, from strangers I’ve never met, but more importantly – from myself. How do I deal with the fact that I can open up a Catechism and right there, staring me in the face, is the just-war theory, is the double-effect rule of self-defense, is all that violence which my heart had renounced for Christ?

“Moreover, “legitimate defense can be not only a right but a grave duty for someone responsible for another’s life, the common good of the family or of the State”. Unfortunately it happens that the need to render the aggressor incapable of causing harm sometimes involves taking his life.
Pope JPII (1985 Encyclical Evangelium Vitae)

Over the past four years, I’ve wrestled with Catholic teachings on war and peace.

“I’d say that we cannot ignore, in the great Christian tradition and in a world marked by sin, any evil aggression that threatens to destroy not only many values, many people, but the image of humanity itself. In this case, defending oneself and others is a duty.”
– Cardinal Ratzinger (2001 Interview, Zenit)

“One is obliged to take into consideration the massive presence of violence in human history. It is the sense of reality in the service of the fundamental concern for justice which forces one to maintain the principle of legitimate defense in this history.”
– Pope JPII (1984 Peace Message)

If defending oneself and others is a duty, if justice demands that we maintain the principle of legitimate defense, then how can I rationally call myself Catholic while renouncing all violence? This helps:

“The most faithful disciples of Christ have been builders of peace, to the point of forgiving their enemies, sometimes even to the point of giving their lives for them. Their example marks the path for a new humanity no longer content with provisional compromises but instead achieving the deepest sort of brotherhood.”
– Pope JPII (1979 Peace Message)

The most faithful disciples of Christ . . . have laid down their lives for their enemies? Are Catholic pacifists part of a new humanity that is no longer content with provisional compromises, provisional compromises like war?

“Those who renounce violence and bloodshed . . .bear witness to evangelical charity
– Catholic Catechism 2306

“One’s neighbor is . . . the living image of God the Father, redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ and placed under the permanent action of the Holy Spirit. One’s neighbor must therefore be loved, even if an enemy, with the same love with which the Lord loves him or her; and for that person’s sake one must be ready for sacrifice, even the ultimate one: to lay down one’s life for the brethren.”
– Pope JPII (1987 Encyclical Sollicitudo rei socialis)

Is loving our enemies only something that individuals are called to, or is it a force that must be embraced by all humanity?

“No man or woman of good will can renounce the struggle to overcome evil with good. This fight can be fought effectively only with the weapons of love. When good overcomes evil, love prevails and where love prevails, there peace prevails. . . . love is the only force capable of bringing fulfillment to persons and societies, the only force capable of directing the course of history in the way of goodness and peace.”
– Pope JPII (2005 Peace Message)

On one hand, the Church teaches that only the “weapons of love” (nonviolent sacrifice) can bring the world peace. But on the other hand, as we’ve seen, the Church teaches that justice requires the defense of innocents (the just-war theory). How do I resolve the apparent contradiction between sacrificial love of enemy and the just-war theory?

Michael Denton at For the Greater Glory relates war to the Lord of the Rings to suggest:

It is however necessary to fight Sauron & Saruman; that is never questioned. However, that fighting does not grant peace. It is the destruction of the Ring, which is the destruction of sin, which grants peace . . .

The conclusion is inescapable. The Catholic tradition at all points has held that war can be a necessary but insufficient means to peace.
– Michael Denton (For the Greater Glory)

Essentially, he’s saying that only love completely conquers evil, but that war provides the conditions necessary for us to love – a society of order and justice. In other words, we can’t love if all of us are dead. I have become convinced that Catholic pacifists must be able to answer this assertion. In the past, I’ve had similar discussions about war and peace that have led to the same place:

“military force is regrettably necessary in this case because it buys the time we need to wage successful ideological and spiritual campaigns . . .”
– Patrick O’ Hannigan (Paragraph Farmer)

““love, love, love” is certainly the perfect solution to any problem, but it is never an expedient one”
– The Anchoress (Counter Terrorism w/ Love)

As a Catholic pacifist, my constant refrain is, “peace can only be forged through the loving and nonviolent sacrifice of the cross. Only by loving our enemies, and dying for them, can we defeat evil.” And I’m not alone in this refrain.

“We have need of the God who overcomes on the cross, who does not conquer with violence, but with his love . . . through the nonviolence of his cross.

. . . He does not oppose violence with a stronger violence. He opposes violence precisely with the contrary: with love to the end, his cross. This is God’s humble way of overcoming: With his love — and only thus is it possible — he puts a limit to violence. This is a way of conquering that seems very slow to us, but it is the true way of overcoming evil, of overcoming violence, and we must trust this divine way of overcoming.”
– Pope Benedict XVI (26July2006 Zenit)

While as a Catholic pacifist I’ve drawn great hope from the Pope’s words, my angst over the just-war theory continues to grow. If only love puts a limit to violence, as the Pope says, then how can war – violence – put a limit to violence?

(“Love your enemies”) is rightly considered the “magna carta” of Christian nonviolence; it does not consist in surrendering to evil — as claims a false interpretation of “turn the other cheek” (Luke 6:29) — but in responding to evil with good. (Romans 12:17-21), and thus breaking the chain of injustice.
– Pope Benedict XVI (Angelus 18FEB2007)

If loving our enemies breaks the chain of injustice, why does the church need a theory of violence whose aim is the restoration of justice?

“Christians, even as they strive to resist and prevent every form of warfare, have no hesitation in recalling that, in the name of an elementary requirement of justice, peoples have a right and even a duty to protect their existence and freedom by proportionate means against an unjust aggressor”
– Pope JPII (1982 Peace Message)

Is war necessary for peace?

Peace is the “work of justice” indirectly,
in so far as justice removes the obstacles to peace:
– St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologica)

It seems more appropriate to ask, “Is war necessary for justice?”

The just-war theory details the conditions under which warfare can be the instrument of restoring justice to a broken world. It doesn’t claim to achieve peace directly, but rather aims to secure the conditions of justice which would lead to peace. For:

“There is no peace without justice.”
– Pope JPII (Peace Message 2002)

Many pragmatic-pacifists of the Church have claimed that in light of modern warfare, war can no longer fit the conditions of the just-war theory. This claim isn’t outlandish – and exploring this claim is explicitly endorsed by the Church.

The Magisterium condemns “the savagery of war” and asks that war be considered in a new way.[ Gaudium et Spes,80] In fact, “it is hardly possible to imagine that in an atomic era, war could be used as an instrument of justice”.[ John XXIII, Encyclical Letter Pacem in Terris]
– Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church (Vatican.va)

Is war sometimes regrettably necessary for the restoration of order which justice demands? Is war regrettably necessary to remove the obstacles that prevent peace? Can warfare be an instrument of justice?

“To attain the good of peace there must be a clear and conscious acknowledgment that violence is an unacceptable evil and that it never solves problems.”
– Pope JPII (2005 Peace Message)

“Wars, even when they “solve” the problems which cause them, do so only by leaving a wake of victims and destruction which weighs heavily upon ensuing peace negotiations.”
– Pope JPII (1997 Peace Message)

Is war directly necessary for justice and indirectly necessary for peace?

True and lasting peace is more a matter of love than of justice, because the function of justice is merely to do away with obstacles to peace: the injury done or the damage caused. Peace . . . results only from love”
– Pope Pius XI (Encyclical – Ubi Arcano Dei Consilio)

War is meant to restore the justice that peace requires, but only love can truly complete the requirements of peace? As a pacifist, I have stressed love as the solitary solution to evil. But non-pacifists might say, “Wait! Not so fast. You can’t show love if you never exact justice. You can’t love if you are dead! War isn’t the complete answer, but it’s an essential part of the answer. ”

“To apply “love your enemies” in a life and death situation means life for the enemy and death for you . . . if someone were about to shoot the Pope, a reasonable person . . . (would) stop him, by any means necessary. If he survives, he can get spiritual counseling in prison.”
– Gerald Augustinus (The Cafeteria is Closed)

How do I resolve the demands of justice with the call of love? For me, this is the heart of my dilemma. Justice demands that we defend the innocent. Love demands that I give up my life for the enemy. How does one unite love and justice into a coherent unity?

“The pillars of true peace are justice and that form of love which is forgiveness . . .

There is no peace without justice. There is no justice without forgiveness.
– Pope JPII (2005 Peace Message)

But what does that mean? “Militant, Part 2: Justice vs. Mercy” will explore what seems like a tension between the underlying values of the just-war theory and nonviolence – between Justice and Mercy.

June 4, 2007

I’m in the last stages of preparing what I hope will be a very thorough exploration of Catholic thought on war and peace. I’ve spent the last four days reading encyclical after encyclical, so get ready for some Papa-lovin’!

Michael Denton and Christopher Blosser assert that “war is necessary but not sufficient for peace,” and I think Catholic pacifists like myself have to step up to the plate and answer this assertion – not only for others, but for ourselves. How are we to reconcile our personal commitment to nonviolence with the Church’s stance on the just-war theory and the double-effect rule (self-defense)?

Here’s a teaser:

“No man or woman of good will can renounce the struggle to overcome evil with good. This fight can be fought effectively only with the weapons of love. When good overcomes evil, love prevails and where love prevails, there peace prevails. . . . love is the only force capable of bringing fulfillment to persons and societies, the only force capable of directing the course of history in the way of goodness and peace.”
– Pope JPII (2005 Peace Message)

May 31, 2007

The UN security council voted to establish an international criminal tribunal to prosecute the murderers of Rafik Hariri. This is momentous. For a start, it is a first for the Middle East. More significantly, it is well known that complicity in Hariri’s murder extends to the very top of the Syrian regime. As the murdered prime minister’s son Saad Hariri (leader of the Sunni-Christian-Druze political alliance) noted: “We’re asking for justice, not for revenge.” For all its faults, the UN has shown that it can be a force of wisdom and justice in the world. The world community is telling governments like Syria that they cannot murder political leaders who dare to cross them (anybody familiar with Lebanese history will realize that the Syrian body count is large, and includes many prominent political leaders including Kamal Jumblatt, Bashir Gemayel, Rene Mouwad, and possibly even Elie Hobieka and Dany Chamoun). Also, note that this is the smart way to confront countries like Syria, instead of using violence and leading to more bloodshed, renewing the cycle of hatred for another generation.

May 30, 2007

It seems that Vox Nova is being attacked for adopting pacifist positions and not giving enough consideration to traditional just war teaching. Christopher Blosser writes: “An absolute (pacifist) condemnation of the military cannot be reconciled with Catholic tradition or the Catechism”. Nonsense. In fact, the pacifist tradition is well established and respected within the Catholic tradition. If pacifism is incompatible with Catholicism, then Dorothy Day would not be on the road to sainthood. If a rejection of all war is antithetical to Catholicism, then the Community of Sant’Egidio would be under investigation by the CDF, instead of being regarded as a leading lay movement that has succeeded in bringing peace to many troubled spots of the world (after all, the Community of Sant’Egidio proclaims that “war is the absence of every justice.”)

There are different views on Vox Nova. While I respect and honor the views of my colleagues, I do not describe myself as an “absolute pacifist”. I believe in the just war principles. The problem is that many on the pro-war side are too quick to use whatever wiggle room is available under these principles to push for a policy of violence, a doctrine of war as first resort. And of course, when told of the Vatican’s staunch opposition to the Iraq war, we are told that this is a mere prudential judgment. But prudential judgment simply means apply Catholic moral principles to changing facts and circumstances. Let’s look at one of the conditions in particular, that “the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated.” At the same time, “the power of modern means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.”

Quite simply, the nature of modern warfare and weapons stacks the deck against the use of military force. The threshold becomes much higher. This is an example of the Church applying moral principles to particular circumstances on the ground (the true definition of prudential judgment, as opposed to a “license to ignore”). Some would even say that the bar is set so high that hardly any modern war is justified. It also goes beyond destructive capacity. The concept of “disproportionate evils” is a broader one, encompassing factors such as the generation of chaos and instability in the region and beyond.

So I think the Church’s position on just war is changing with modern circumstances. And this relates not only to the penchant for disproportionate evils, but to the very nature of who is the competent authority in the first place. Notice that while the United States saw itself as a liberator in Iraq, the “liberated” saw things rather differently– in the guise of an occupying imperial power. Does any one country have a right to act in such circumstances? In an increasingly integrated and globalized world where threats can arise from any corner, who should make these decisions? Certainly not one country alone, as that would almost certainly awaken further hatreds.

John Allen discussed various winds of change at the Vatican:

“In recent years, however, the Holy See has tended to rely less on the traditional language of “just war” and more on the relatively new concept of “humanitarian intervention,” which generally sets the bar much higher to justify force, especially for initiating a conflict. The Holy See has opposed the two U.S.-led Gulf Wars, and Cardinal Renato Martino, President of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, has even suggested that Catholic moral teaching is evolving in a quasi-abolitionist stance on the use of armed force…

Especially key is the question of sovereignty, and the extent to which one can meaningfully speak of a global sovereignty invested in international organizations such as the United Nations. Does justice ad bellum in the 21st century require that the United Nations approve the use of force? A closely related issue is the rule of law, and the binding force of international law. Events may well compel the pope to clarify how the traditional principles of Just War analysis, or “humanitarian intervention,” should be applied to new historical circumstances.”

In 2003, then-Cardinal Ratzinger also speculated along these lines, when he noted that “given the new weapons that make possible destruction that go beyond the combatant groups, today we should be asking ourselves if it is still licit to admit the very existence of a just war.”

Do those in the United States who purport to support the traditional just war doctrine pay any heed to these concerns? Do they take adequate note of concepts such as last resort, serious prospects of success, grave and lasting consequences, competent authority, and (especially) disproportionate evils? And do they pay sufficient attention to the Church’s call to overcome the disorders that threaten peace, such as injustice and excessive economic and social inequality? For that too is in the Catechism. No, at the end of the day, many on the American right are too keen to tilt Church teachings toward a prevailing secular ethos that supports the extension of American power through military means. And they downplay any role for the United Nations, simply because it goes against American nationalism or a protestant-inspired American exceptionalism.

At the end of the day, while I start from a different position from that of my pacifist friends, we end up not so far apart after all…

May 29, 2007

“I want to be blunt with you,” the priest said to me. He was behind a curtain, and had just digested my confession. “It sounds,” he said, “like you’ve got a really ungrateful heart.”

Today, memorial day, I found myself beside a creek, watching the birds wash, breathing in the smells of spring, loving the presence of my future wife, and truly enjoying the freedoms that countless soldiers have died for, but mostly killed for.

I am grateful for these freedoms. But I feel torn by the idea that these freedoms have been purchased with blood – as I am told so often. But I wonder – whose blood? American blood? French and Indian blood? British blood? Spanish blood? Mexican blood? German blood? Italian blood? More German blood? Japanese blood? Iraqi blood? Iranian blood?

Whose blood must be shed for me to enjoy a freedom filled life? The blood of my friends or the blood of my freedom-hating enemies? Both? We are often told, on Memorial Day, that American blood has purchased our freedom. No one mentions the enemy’s blood. But General Patton points out the truth:

Now I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. You won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country.

And so I am torn. I am grateful for my freedom, but ungrateful for the violence done to secure that freedom. There are only a few ways out of this conflict:

1) Become ungrateful for my freedom.
2) Become grateful for the violence done to secure my freedom.
3) Deny that I am free.
4) Deny that violence secured my freedom.

Option 1 is the most natural, and it is the tendency that drove me to confession. I find myself feeling ungrateful for things which are good – which is insane. I’ve prayed for gratefulness, and have begun to feel it. But as my gratefulness has grown, I’ve felt the conflict growing. How can I be grateful for freedom purchased with bloodshed which I abhor?

Option 2 wants me to honor the bloodshed I abhor. But this is impossible. I have committed myself to the “nonviolence of the cross” (P.B.XVI), and believe in its unique power to defeat evil.

Option 3 would quickly resolve my conflict. If I am not free, then there’s nothing to be grateful for. But this is manifestly incorrect – as my freedom to blog shows.

Option 4? Deny that violence secured my freedom? Did warfare free me? Has violence freed me?

“The Lord has triumphed upon the cross. He did not triumph with a new empire, with a power greater than the others and capable of destroying them; he triumphed, not in a human way, as we would imagine, with an empire more powerful than the other. He triumphed with a love capable of reaching even to death . . .

This is God’s new way of winning: he does not oppose violence with a stronger form of violence. He opposes violence with its exact opposite: love to the very end, his cross. This is God’s humble way of winning: with his love – and this is the only way it is possible – he puts a limit on violence. This is a way of winning that seems very slow to us, but it is the real way to overcome evil, to overcome violence, and we must entrust ourselves to this divine way of winning.” – Pope BXVI

I will be bold here. No one, not one, has dared to refute what the Pope has said here. Those who disagree ignore it. I have yet to hear one semi-reasoned dismissal of the Pope’s words, for one clear reason – the Pope is clearly and adamantly claiming that Christ’s victory extends into the real world. Benedict claims that Christ’s victory on the cross isn’t merely a cosmic realignment of spiritual scales that allows us to get into heaven while condemning us to hell on earth. No. Christ’s victory defeats evil in this world. Christ’s love defeats violence in this world – individually, socially, and yes – even politically.

War and violence – killing – have never and will never purchase freedom or peace. While condoning violence as an ultimately futile form of self-defense, the Church always has and always will proclaim that true freedom and true peace come through Christ and Christ’s love alone.

“The Church teaches that true peace is made possible only through forgiveness and reconciliation.”

“With the conviction of her faith in Christ and with the awareness of her mission, the Church proclaims “that violence is evil, that violence is unacceptable as a solution to problems, that violence is unworthy of man. Violence is a lie, for it goes against the truth of our faith, the truth of our humanity. Violence destroys what it claims to defend: the dignity, the life, the freedom of human beings”.” Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Catholic Church 496, 517

“Forgiveness in fact always involves an apparent short-term loss for a real long-term gain. Violence is the exact opposite; opting as it does for an apparent short‑term gain, it involves a real and permanent loss.” – Pope John Paul II

In spite of the bloodshed committed in the name of freedom, I remain free – individually, socially, politically, because of the blood shed by Christ and his countless disciples throughout the ages. They shed their own blood, not others’. That is how Christians make peace – dying to save those who hate them.

I remain ungrateful for war, its bloodshed, and its death. But my prayer is that I will always find the grace to be grateful for Christ’s victory upon the cross, for the blood shed upon it, and for the freedoms it has purchased.

May 26, 2007

During my high school and college years and beyond, I thought about becoming a Catholic priest and made an effort to discern and pray about it over the course of those years. Eventually I discovered that part of my vocation was to marry — Emily and I will celebrate our two-year anniversary this July — and so the presbyteral ordination option was closed. As I have reflected on how my religio-political views have evolved over the last ten years or so, however, I sometimes wonder what sort of trouble I would get into if I had been led to the Catholic priesthood.

Let me explain more fully what I mean. One of my academic interests has been to explore American Christianity’s tendency to unite itself with American civil religion, to seamlessly ally itself, knowingly or unknowingly, with the interests of the nation-state. Even the Roman Catholic Church, a church that should (in theory) have a greater consciousness of its transnational (‘catholic’) character, perpetually succumbs to this sort of syncretism when we do things like place American flags in our sanctuaries, when we sing the national anthem at Mass, and when we refer to American soldiers in our prayers as “our” troops.[1]

Beyond these fairly obvious examples lies an even greater, though largely unrecognized, danger in our inability to distinguish between the state’s mythology and holidays and the mythology and holidays of Christianity. Many Catholics see no problem with celebrating any and all of the state’s holidays, and sometimes we even celebrate special Masses on these days, such as Independence Day and Thanksgiving, in effect “baptizing” them and making them an unofficial part of the liturgical calendar.

Memorial Day, which we celebrate this coming Monday, is a great example. Last year on Memorial Day, I was making the drive home from a family gathering. The occasion for the gathering was, in fact, not Memorial Day per se, but for the birthday of two relatives. On the drive home, Emily and I passed a small country Baptist church and on the marquee was the question: “What will you do for Christ this Memorial Day?” Aside from the fact that the question makes absolutely no sense, I was irritated and almost stopped the car to take a digital picture of the sign because it was such a clear example of the sort of religious syncretism that exists in the United States. American Christians will even combine the mythology and holidays of Christianity and American civil religion even if the result is completely unintelligible nonsense.

Two years ago, on the Sunday before Memorial Day, a visiting priest was celebrating Mass at my parish in West Virginia. Near the end of Mass, before he processed out of the church he wanted, in light of the upcoming holiday, to honor the soldiers who “made the ultimate sacrifice for us.” All of this he said in front of a giant crucifix which, last time I checked, represents the “ultimate sacrifice” in which Christians believe and which, indeed, we had just celebrated in the Eucharistic action. As a fitting conclusion to the patriotic Mass, the congregation sang, not to Jesus, but to the country itself in the words of “America the Beautiful.”

We get into a really dangerous place when we start confusing our myths and our holidays. Memorial Day honors the memory of those who gave their lives serving the United States in its military, many of them making the “ultimate sacrifice” (in the state’s view) in service to the nation. That’s fine. The state needs holidays like this to support its grand narrative and mythology, just like any community of persons.[2] The Church, however, has its own “sort” of “Memorial Day.” In fact, our celebration of the Christian “Memorial Day” spans two days: All Saints Day and All Souls Day, November 1 and 2, respectively. These are the days that Christians celebrate the lives of those who have gone before us giving their lives specifically as followers of Christ, many of them making the ultimate sacrifice as martyrs on the way of the cross.

Independence Day, of course, celebrates the foundational acts of violence that founded this community of persons. The rhetoric that honors those who made the “ultimate sacrifice” is the same. A recent essay for Independence Day on the website of the Catholic Peace Fellowship reminded us,

[W]e are mistaken if we believe we have been set free by a bloody battle, a revolution in which thousands of people were killed over the course of eight years of violence.

As Catholics, we remember and celebrate the One who sacrificed and died over 2000 years ago in order to give us our freedom. “For freedom, Christ has set us free,” Paul says in his letter to the Galatians (Gal 5:1). As followers of Christ, we know that we have already been set free, and therefore we have no need to construct a new freedom.

[…]

So why do Christians continue to wave the flag, proudly and boldly, every Fourth of July? Why are Christians often the ones cheering the loudest at each parade? Because we have bought into the myth upon which every nation rests: that a bloody sacrifice, performed in battle, is necessary for a nation’s founding.

For Christians, our foundation is built on Christ’s ultimate sacrifice of Death on the cross. His sacrifice, however, was a nonviolent one, as he accepted total suffering on Himself, and inflicted none on other human beings. In contrast, the sacrifice of a soldier, while still a sacrifice, is often done at the cost of others’ lives.

As the ultimate sacrifice has already been completed, we do not need to trump it. We do not need to come up with a better one. We need to participate in the sacrifice of Jesus in order to partake in His redemption. Participation in this sacrifice means carrying His cross with humility, without violence.

Christians have their own liturgical calendar that marks time and significant events differently than the state. Our “Independence Day” as Christians is the Triduum, where we celebrate the freedom that comes from sharing in Christ’s death and resurrection. Just as Americans celebrate their pride of citizenship on the fourth of July, Christians celebrate their citizenship in another Kingdom on the feast of Christ the King, the last Sunday of the Church year.

The American narrative also features the holiday of Thanksgiving, a feast which seems to mirror the basic prayerful posture of Christian life, that of thankfulness. While giving thanks is certainly the heart of Christian life, it is important to reflect on the content of our thankfulness, and a closer look at the national holiday, with its connections to genocide and imperialism, should give Christian residents of the empire pause. Is the traditional celebration of Thanksgiving — with its focus on overeating, football, and pre-Christmas hype — really necessary for Catholics considering the Church’s ongoing focus of eucharist, the gathering of the Lord’s Supper, which some Christians celebrate weekly, or even daily?

Should not Christians at least consider resisting American holidays as a way of resisting the American mythology, the metanarrative that, as Catholic theologian William Cavanaugh says, serves as an “alternative soteriology” to the Church’s story of salvation history?[3] Should we not look for opportunites to subvert the holidays of the empire in which we find ourselves, reminding ourselves of and drawing attention to the ways in which these holidays, as part of American mythology, try to shape our loyalties and practices according to the ideals of the nation-state?

When I speak or write this way, I am often asked if I am advocating a Catholic type of separatism or sectarianism. The answer is no; I am not suggesting a withdrawal from the world. Such a suggestion would deny the mission of the Church for the world. On the other hand, I don’t think the careless syncretism of patriotic Christianity is the only alternative to sectarianism. I think we need a healthy, Catholic suspicion of alternative metanaratives to our own, an ability to clearly understand the differences between the two, and the courage to let that test our celebrations and our social ethics as Catholic Christians.

This affirmation of the distinctiveness of the Church and its practices is not lost on most Catholics when it comes to sexual and reproductive issues. With the exception of those Catholics who believe the Church must “get with the times” and update its sexual and reproductive ethics to match the dominant values of American society, most Catholics understand that our commitment to Christ entails the following of a different ethic when it comes to sexuality and the dignity of human life. Many Catholics do not even have a problem endorsing a “sectarian” view when it comes to holidays, at least when it is discussed from the opposite direction. Note the “battle for Christmas” debates that have occurred over the last couple of years, or the concern shown when non-Christians celebrate Easter. When it comes to these discussions, many Christians have no problem whatsover making the “sectarian” separation between holidays that are “ours” and holidays that are “theirs.”

I know that, had I become a priest, I would not have been able to celebrate Memorial Day or Independence Day Masses in good conscience. And I know that, as a result, I would run into congregational resistance and be reviled by my “good, patriotic” churchgoers. But, I would remind them, the days are not on the liturgical calendar for, as much as we tend to forget, they are not part of our Christian story of salvation. The ministry of the priesthood, like the ministry of ecclesially-committed theologians, is to proclaim the Gospel, the Church’s alternative story of salvation. It is a story that exposes the lie of imperial mythologies and narratives through the distinctive life of citizens of an empire not of this world, the history-spanning community of “resident aliens” within the belly of the world’s empires.[4]

______
[1] The point here, of course, is not that we should stop praying for soldiers. The point is that in the context of liturgy, words like “we” and “our” refer to our collective identify as the Body of Christ and not to our collective identity as U.S. Americans.
[2] Cf. Carolyn Marvin and David W. Ingle, Blood Sacrifice and the Nation: Totem Rituals and the American Flag (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999). For a shorter article which nicely summarizes the book, see their “Blood Sacrifice and the Nation: Revisiting Civil Religion,” in Journal of the American Academy of Religion 64 (Winter 1996): 767-780.
[3] William T. Cavanaugh, Theopolitical Imagination: Discovering the Liturgy as a Political Act in an Age of Global Consumerism (London: T & T Clark).
[4] The image above is from the website www.psalters.com.

May 24, 2007

Back when the Pope was being criticized for his Regensburg University speech which contained some not-well-thought-out comments on Islam, I argued that many of the Pope’s critics were missing the point. Indeed, I agreed with the Catholic Peace Fellowship blog when they suggested that the Pope meant to criticize Christianity just as much as Islam.

I didn’t have that same sympathy for the Pope last week when he commented on the Church’s role in the history of colonization in Latin America. Benedict angered indigenous groups when he stated that “the proclamation of Jesus and of his Gospel did not at any point involve an alienation of the pre-Columbus cultures, nor was it the imposition of a foreign culture,” and that the continent was “silently longing” for the Christian faith. The Pope’s comments seemed incredibly naive given the unity of religion and imperial violence that is simply a sad matter of historical fact. John Allen reported that

Paulo Suess, an adviser to Brazil’s Indian Missionary Council, said the pope “is a good theologian, but it seems he missed some history classes.” Marcio Meira, who heads Brazil’s federal Indian Bureau, said, “As an anthropologist and a historian I feel obliged to say that, yes, in the past 500 years there was an imposition of the Catholic religion on the indigenous people.”

Thankfully, Benedict has apparently made an attempt to clarify “what he meant” yesterday in a speech in Rome, acknowledging that it is “not possible to forget the suffering and the injustices inflicted by colonizers against the indigenous population, whose fundamental human rights were often trampled.”

John Allen comments that “In that light, the pope’s comments today suggest that when Benedict said on Sunday that Christ was not an ‘imposition,’ he meant the teachings of Christianity, not the concrete behavior of Christian colonizers – whom, Benedict admitted, were sometimes guilty of ‘unjustifiable crimes.'”

John Allen’s report is here. The New York Times reports on the story here. Zenit.org here.


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