O little town of Bethlehem
A wall thee now divides
Above thy concertina wire
The silent stars go by
Beyond the wall the soldiers
Aim rifles toward the sky
Militias roaming streets inside
Ignore the baby’s cry

The settlements and suicides
Injustice, greed and hate,
O little town, you seem to drown
In tears for your hapless fate
But hear the choir of angels
Their great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!

Dead dogma burdens Bethlehem
With grudges from the past
Muslims, Jews, and Christians, too
Say their claims are the last
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.

The baby’s voice is calling us
To Bethlehem again,
Where walls divide may grace abide
Forgiveness enter in
The morning stars together
Proclaim the holy birth
And praises ring, for Love we sing
And peace to all on earth!

I just returned from Israel and the West Bank. Is there any hope left for peace with Israel and the Palestinians? Jackson Diehl of the Washington Post suggests that the last vestige of any remaining hope may life in the Annapolis Summit scheduled for early December. I agree with him. But, as always, the stakes are very high with both Mahmoud Abbas and Ehud Olmert putting their lives on the line for this chance at a two-state solution. Once a hawk, Olmert is now calling for everything to be on the table. Abbas, for his part, has affirmed Israel’s right to exist and his willingness to negotiate for peace, something the hard line Hamas opposition and other extremists continues to refuse. On the Israeli side, there is a Jewish minority opposed to any negotiations. This is a fringe element in Israeli society. During my visit, the great majority of Israeli citizens and Palestinians are ready to make a deal that will end the violence, provide a state for Palestinians and ensure Israel’s existence. That is the only road left for peace. Still Hamas refuses and Diehl suggests that this current effort at peacemaking may result in a surge of violence as it has in the past. Olmert himself has evoked the memory of Yitzak Rabin as he seeks to bring about a peace that he calls “the legacy I will leave.”

What will have to happen is a cessation of violence, including what Diehl refers to a Palestinian “militias” harassing the population. While I was in Jericho I met with Bassem Eid, a Palestinian and the Director of the Independent Palestinian Human Rights Monitoring Group, whose purpose is to monitor and report human rights abuses by Palestinians. He founded the agency in 1996 because no one was paying any attention to the human rights abuses among the Palestinians, particularly in the intifada of 1994. The most recent report of his agency, which is available on the web, is a narrative of abuse that is virtually unknown in the West.  See it here: http://www.phrmg.org/

Consequently, Bassem is not a popular person among his own people and especially the Hamas leadership who consider him a collaborator with the enemy for speaking truthfully, particularly about the intimidation and persecution of Christians in the Gaza strip. His story is one that deserves to be told.

He reported that 75% of the Palestinians want the current intifada to stop immediately. While Hamas continues to agitate for violence against Israelis, the moderate Palestinians of the West Bank and Gaza have no solid leadership to provide an alternative vision. There is a huge internal conflict between Hamas and more moderate Palestinians, of which Eid is one along with some of the Fatah leadeship including Abbas. According to Eid, Yassar Arafat was a complete failure for the Palestinian people. For Eid, the primary question now is whether they will learn anything from his mistakes. Peace with Israel and a Palestinian state hang in the balance with the answer to that question.

In Gaza, Hamas is ruling by intimidation and continues to violate the human rights of the people there, in particular the few Christians still living there who are considered enemies by Hamas, solely on the basis of their religion. For Christians, they must either obey a hard Islamic rule imposed by Hamas or leave the area. Anyone who is not Muslim is considered godless and treated as such.  Bassem Eid says this must come to an end if there is to be peace in the Middle East.

In all honesty, there is nothing in Bassem Eid’s story that is connected to the ancient story of Zacheus other than the town, the trees and a man unpopular among his own people. But I just couldn’t keep Zacheus out of my imagination as I sat in Jericho listening to a truth-teller who may be nearing the status of outcast among his people.

Christianity has concerned itself with matters of war and peace for almost its entire history.  The one unifying assumption of the faith has been that war is terrible and is to be avoided assiduously.  There has always been a part of Christianity that has rejected war absolutely, considering participation in it to be completely contrary to the teachings of Jesus.  But alongside it has been a strand of the faith that recognizes that war is morally acceptable in certain circumstances.  “Just war theory” dates back to St. Augustine in the early days of the church.  I think it still is a useful way of prayerfully considering whether or not a war, and/or one’s participation in it, is justified. 

Now is a critical time for all of us as American citizens to consider whether or not there is moral justification for our country to continue to fight in Iraq. We owe it to our troops, to our country, and to the Iraqi people.  It’s time to let our government’s leaders know what we think. This month has brought a long-promised review of the progress, or lack of it, in the US occupation.  It’s a good time to dust off St. Augustine’s principles and meditate on them, while considering the facts before us.  I suggest that we remember to apply “just war theory” to the situation in Iraq today, rather than focusing on whether or not the war was “just” when the US first invaded Iraq..

A “just war” is one that meets all of these criteria:
•  Just cause:  The reason for going to war needs to be just and can therefore be recapturing things taken or punishing people who have done wrong.
•  Comparative justice:  While there may be rights and wrongs on all sides of a conflict, to override the presumption against the use of force, the injustice suffered by one party must significantly outweigh that suffered by the other. 
•  Legitimate authority:  Only duly constituted public authorities may use deadly force or wage war
•  Right intention:  Force may be used only in a truly just cause and solely for that purpose—correcting a suffered wrong is considered a right intention, while material gain or maintaining economies is not.
•  Probability of success:  Arms may not be used in a futile cause or in a case where disproportionate measures are required to achieve success;
•  Last resort:  Force may be used only after all peaceful and viable alternatives have been seriously tried and exhausted. Here I will share my “moral reasoning” about the war in Iraq, based on these criteria:

Just cause:  Today, the question is whether or not the US has “just cause” to remain there.  I believe the US has a moral obligation to help protect the lives of Iraqi citizens who have been cast into a maelstrom of a civil war which we are partly responsible for starting.  Also, the US presence in Iraq has helped terrorists groups gain recruits to threaten the US directly, and part of that threat is manifest in Iraq itself.  Today there is “just cause” for a US military presence in Iraq.

Comparative justice:  It is an injustice for the Iraqi people to have a huge US military occupation of their country.  Our presence is deeply resented by most Iraqi citizens.  Yet it would be an injustice to the Iraqi people for the US to leave without restoring order to the country and preventing even worse civil conflict.  “Just war theory” wisely asks which injustice is greater. The first injustice stimulates a certain proportion of the civil violence that has engulfed the country.  The US presence in Iraq helps to spawn a significant portion of the animosity that feeds the conflict:  we create enemies of the US just by being there.  The military presence of the US also contributes to a certain portion of the civil conflict among ethnic and other groups.  The second injustice would end the US occupation that helps feed the violence, but that would not eliminate the violence altogether, and could result in even worse civilian casualties.  It is hard to measure which injustice is greater, so I withhold an opinion on this question.  Yet the question remains a very important one to ask!

Legitimate authority:   Iraq is now technically sovereign again, and it has explicitly allowed the “coalition” to continue to occupy the country.  However, put in a global context, this legitimacy is compromised because there is only nominal participation by countries other than the US in the “coalition”.  The majority of Iraqis appear to believe that the US has no legitimate authority to occupy their country, and they don’t seem to believe that their own government has much legitimacy, either. 

Right intention:  There is reason for us to stay vigilant about keeping “clean” the intentions of the US in Iraq.  I believe the US government wants Iraq to be a sovereign country with control of its oil and other resources.  But around the world, and within Iraq, there are widespread perceptions to the contrary.  Therefore it is vital that we, as citizens, hold our government accountable to prevent it from taking advantage of Iraq in its vulnerable condition.

Probability of success:  It is here that the continuing US occupation of Iraq most clearly flunks the “just war” test.  The success of the US mission in Iraq depends on the viability of the Iraqi government in creating conditions for a peaceful political settlement to the conflicts in the country.  Unfortunately, the Iraqi government is ineffectual and only marginally legitimate in the eyes of its citizens.  And the trend does not look good for significant improvement, despite the space that the US military “surge” operation is trying to provide to make political progress possible.  This severely undercuts the effectiveness of the US occupation in bringing about anything more than short-term truces between the multiple militias and tribal groups that effectively control the country.  There is now a powerful home-grown resistance to Al Qaeda.  A US pullout would deny Al Qaeda’s propaganda advantage of playing to resentment toward the US occupation.   If the US left, Al Qaeda might well be defeated by Iraqi militias. The improbability of the success of the US in bringing order to Iraq through the military occupation is grounds enough for us to begin an immediate pullout of our forces.  We would still have an obligation to help rebuild the country and provide humanitarian and other kinds of aid, insofar as such action would be practically possible.

Last resort:  At this point, a withdrawal of US forces, done as swiftly and as orderly as possible, is the last resort.  We have proven that the US military occupation cannot end the civil war raging in the country, given that the Iraqi government isn’t even close to being viable enough to maintain whatever peace we might create.  A withdrawal would be fraught with serious risks to our troops, to our national security, and to the Iraqi people, but I don’t believe there is a viable alternative that would be less risky for all concerned.  We can only hope that a US pullout, and the law-and-order vacuum that might result, will frighten Iraq’s leaders into rapidly finding a political settlement to the conflict.

My outrage has lain dormant for years.  The transitions in my life has consumed my energy  – new job, new house, parents aging and dying, children planning weddings. Who has the time to be outraged? But finally I am.

It was a combination of the headline – buried on page 23. And then there were the pictures – sobering, stunning, revolting.  The headline informed me that 500 civilians – 500! - had been killed in just one market bombing – the deadliest civilian attack in the war’s history. And yet, it was just one more story in one more newspaper about this war that has faded in the consciousness of so many of us “good” people. Sure – I marched in three protests when the war first began. But that didn’t do any good – and now I am too busy to care. But 500 people – shopping for bread and tomatoes  – blown up – for no redemptive reason?

But it was the pictures of veterans  - now home and “healing” - that literally turned my stomach. Limbs gone, faces scarred, lives wounded forever. The most stunning image was of a young couple on their wedding day.  She was in a princess dress with red trim – her bouquet of roses setting off her exquisite face and skin. And she had the saddest look I have ever seen. Because standing next to her was her new husband – who was also her high school sweetheart – all dressed up in his marine blues – with absolutely no face to speak of at all. A bald, scarred globe – with no mouth and no ears - ghoulish slits for eyes – the kind of rubber ugliness you might buy in a costume shop for Halloween. Except that this was not a monster’s mask – this is a man’s face – after three surgeries – so disfigured that he might as well be one of those aliens from outer space that used to appear on The Twilight Zone. How could she marry him? How could she not?

The picture – part of a book of similar veteran photos – was/is a wake up call for me. And I think it needs to be on the front page of every newspaper in America. This is not a “political” portrait. It is simply a human portrait – too human – a vivid image of human suffering, human evil  - and human love.  But  it is also a portrait of sin – your sin and mine  - of our human insensitivity and ignorance and callous disregard of  those who do not live in our small, self absorbed worlds.

Where is our Christian voice amidst all this carnage? How can we justify our complicity in a war that is causing such pain for so many people – for no apparent gain in national interest or global harmony? How can we read our Bibles – and not hear the simple words and values of Jesus? Blessed are the peacemakers.  Pray for those who persecute you. Love your enemies. Forgive 70 times 70. How do those commandments of love jibe with billions of dollars spent, tens of thousands of lives lost – and young lovers now wedded to years of sorrow and struggle ?

I have been on a long journey toward pacifism in my life of faith. I’m not sure I’m there yet. But this one image of a beauty and her beast has pushed me more than any other. We human beings have reached a stage of technological sophistication where we can destroy life with alarming alacrity and dispassion – ignoring the image of God embedded in each life that our foreign policy blows apart. And creative efforts at reconciliation, diplomacy, dialogue, and shalom building seem to have disappeared. Amidst it all, our collective Christian voice is almost mute. Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, when did we stop caring about the soul of the world? When did we stop being the Resurrected Body of  a Living Christ weeping above the ruins of a bloody, battered world?

I have cut out this newspaper picture of the mutilated marine and his bride – and I have placed it where I can see it every day. I pray for this couple – and I pray for our world. When Congress gets back after Labor Day and starts debating – again – how, and if, to end this war, I will take the time to call Washington and express my outrage – and then pray some more for peace. But I know that it is too little – too late.

Lord, have mercy upon our souls.

It was a cube consisting of many separate pieces of charred wood, each piece dangling from a thin black wire, hanging from the ceiling of the De Young Museum in San Francisco.  This artwork by Cornelia Parker was entitled “Anti-Mass”.  It was a compelling sight.  It reminded me of the way blackened embers are suspended in air above a fire, as if momentarily weightless.  The installation was thing of simple beauty, taking the mind to a place beyond words. 
 
Then I read the card next to the installation and found that I was looking at the creatively re-arranged remains of a black Baptist church in Alabama which had been destroyed in a racist arson attack.  “Anti-Mass” was at least a double-play on words – referring to the airborne wood, and the violent act against the worship of the congregation that once met inside it.
 
As soon as I knew the story behind the wood, I sensed that I was in the presence of the sacred.  In a way, this work of art was the resurrection of that burned church.  The artist had taken that terrible act of racist arson and turned it inside out and upside down.  Just as the early Christians turned the crucifixion inside out and upside down, transforming the cross from a terrifying symbol of Roman state power into a hopeful sign of salvation.
 
When I got home from the museum, I reflected on the striking difference in my experience of the artwork between my first glance at it and my later discovery of the wood’s source.  It revealed how influenced I am by the emotional and spiritual associations that I make, or that others make for me.  It revealed that I, and the rest of us, seem to be primed for experiences of the sacred.  There is a God-shaped cube inside of me, ready to be filled by encounters with divinity.
 
It also revealed the resurrecting, redeeming power given to each of us by God.  We have within each of us a remarkable measure of divine energy which we can use to turn hopelessness into hope, violence into compassion, despair into positive vision, destruction into creativity.  If a church building, burned down in an act of hatred, can be brought back to life in such a remarkable manner, what isn’t possible for us, both as individuals and as a collective? 
 
What creative, redemptive leap can our nation take to help the people of Iraq turn seared flesh, twisted metal, and dusty rubble into elements of peace and prosperity?  How can we take the emotional charge from the injuries and insults we each suffer, and direct that energy toward healing and wholeness?  What can we do to transform the church from being a reliquary for old dogma into becoming a living spiritual community for the present? 
 
If an artist can bring about a resurrection with nothing more than wire and bits of burnt wood, think of what you and I can bring to life!  Each counter-intuitive action we take to change ourselves and the world for the better is a form of artwork, as worthy of “ooohs” and “aaahs” as anything hanging in a museum…

“Do not ask for whom the bell tolls,” John Donne famously enjoined his congregation.  These days most of us in America seem to be following his instructions, but for reasons exactly opposite to what he had in mind.

Donne was reminding his hearers that the death of anyone involves us all.  None of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to herself.  His assumption was that every time the bell tolled, everyone would be paying attention.

Now we are forbidden to see photographs of the coffins of those soldiers  who died in Iraq or Afghanistan as the planes carry them to their penultimate resting place in Maryland.  For the most part we don’t ask and the government doesn’t tell.

We know how many officially enrolled military people have died but are not clear about the deaths of private “contractors.”

And as for how many Iraqis and Afghans are dying—the statistics are impossible to come by.

I am old enough to remember dimly the last years of World War II.  I remember food rationing, and my mother folding the yellow dye into the oleomargarine.  Most vividly I remember that my middle class, college educated uncles were serving, and how relieved we were when they came safely home.

I remember the Vietnam War vividly.  We watched the draft lottery hoping that our number would not come up.  We had to choose between war resistance and cooperation with the Selective Service and we knew that there were no perfect answers.

At the most mundane level, we all paid excise taxes to help finance the war.

At the most poignant level, I have friends and relatives whose names are engraved on the walls of the Vietnam Memorial in Washington.

But now neither my sons nor the children of my friends have to decide whether to serve or whether to resist.    The most affluent among us receive huge tax breaks, and the middle class is hardly suffering.  When asked why the vast majority of the American people feel no cost for this war the President opines that it must be hard to watch the bad news from abroad on the TV news each night.  Not as hard as it ought to be.

Last Friday evening the News Hour with Jim Lehrer closed with a long interview with the ABC correspondent Martha Radditz.  Radditz has just written a book called The Long Road Home.  It tells the stories of the families who lost children or spouses or siblings to the war.  Some of the stories were excruciating, and for a few minutes we really did pay attention.

But then the quick summary of the world news, and the host’s usual sign off: “Have a nice weekend.”

And we did.