Reading: Ecclesiates, chapter 3

For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal.
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love and a time to hate,
A time for war and a time for peace.

Sermon:

I have a problem. Leo Tolstoy wrote more than 1200 pages about War and Peace. I've got about 20 minutes!

I certainly don't claim to be anything like Tolstoy, but that silly comparison does highlight the complexity any preacher faces in approaching this topic. War has always been with us. Over millennia, we have tried to reduce, contain and control it, but our kind has also studied the arts of war and our ingenuity has been used to develop weapons and tactics that are ever more "effective" - which usually means more destructive.

In the last few hundred years, we have developed some limiting principles, standards, and institutions that have met with recognition and even some success. We have had no World War III. But our responses to smaller conflicts have often been late, partial or uncertain. Many nations have agreed to limitations on reasons for war, and the conduct of war, but widespread violence does not necessarily involve those nations and those nations don't necessarily abide by their promises.

And our imaginings of peace are less developed, less rich, less exciting and more disparate than we need if peace is to have strong appeal; if it is to compel us to action. Seeing peace as 'not war,' we have too often imagined it as a blessing somehow bestowed from above. Alternately, it depends on the choices and behavior of 'other side' of a given conflict. With all the prayers and writings and cries for peace, a lot of work is left to be done - both in our understanding of what peace entails and in the development of both the will and the ways to get there.

For our purposes this morning, let's agree that war is not glorious, and that our goal is to solve our conflicts without violence. Starting back in the 1790s, Universalists looked to a time when all wars would cease. They weren't very specific, but they did call for it. Some 20 years later, prominent Unitarians, including William Ellery Channing, helped establish the first peace movement that welcomed members of different religious beliefs and included both those opposing all wars and those who supported defensive wars. Neither the Universalists nor the Unitarians were among the historic "peace churches." Yet from our earliest days in America, we have - at least officially - stood on the side of restraint. We have claimed to be peace- loving people.

But this claim is never simple when the tides and forces of history break over us. I want to read from a letter written by Sullivan Ballou from Rhode Island, who was a Major in the Union Army at the beginning of the Civil War. It conveys the tensions of divided love and loyalty I believe common among those who serve in our armed forces. I have no way of knowing the Major's religion, but Ballou is a name prominent in Universalist history and a good number of Universalists lived in Rhode Island. Major Ballou's letter was addressed to his wife.

My very dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. And lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter.how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly willing to lay down all my joys in this life, and to pay that debt.Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence can break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistably with all those chains to the battle field.

The memories of blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me ... but something whispers to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me, it will whisper your name. But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you ... Sarah do not mourn me dead: think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again...

Major Ballou and 27 of his men died a week later at the Battle of Bull Run. In fact, the Civil War claimed more casualties than any of our subsequent wars, despite all the ensuing developments in weaponry. We still live with the lingering effects of that war in many aspects of our national life.

The last century saw far-reaching developments in both the credibility and sophistication of non-violent resistance and conflict management. The names of its major proponents are familiar to us - Mahatma Gandhi, Albert Schweitzer, Martin Luther King, Jr. The options for peaceful resistance are more credible than they have ever been. That is good news. Yet that same century provides examples of such violent aggression that few if any can imagine a way that peaceful means could have stopped them. Unitarian Universalists today, as in centuries past, hold viewpoints from pacifism through "just war" advocacy.

Now, the term "just war" is more than a little misleading. War is never just. It is always rampantly violent and destructive. It always represents human failure - failure to find ways to come together, to recognize each other as part of the human family, to reach agreements about how problems can be addressed or solved. Still a "just war" must meet certain criteria which, in this understanding, "justifiy" it. In other words, they ensure that war is chosen with difficulty, that other means have been exhausted, and that it will be conducted within certain bounds. Paul Rasor, one of our ministers, wrote an article about all this in the UU World of Spring, 2008. It explained the basic requirements for a just war and emphasized the anti-war nature of those requirements, lifting up the idea that pacifism and just war advocates have common ground there.

I can't go into detail about the requirements, but here's a generally accepted list. First is 'just cause,' which is currently agreed to include only self-defense and genocide. Then, war must be carried out by a legitimate government, and must be a last resort - all other possible solutions having been exhausted. Right intention means that the goal must be reconciliation and justice, and that the war must be conducted with humility and regret. The fighting must be proportional - the good of the goal must outweigh the suffering caused by warfare. Success must be probable, and finally, noncombatants are protected. You can see what Rasor means when he says that these requirements make it difficult to consider a war legitimate. "Just war" theory is an anti-war position.

At the same time, some of us can't abide the idea that a war might be justified. We lift up the unlikely successes shown by the nonviolent independence movement in India and the Civil Rights movement in our own nation. Who would have predicted that the British Empire would withdraw without the defeat of its army? How can we argue with King's words, "Violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones."?

All this takes on greater urgency when we remember that we are currently involved in two wars. The war in Iraq is winding down - in fact, I heard recently that this past December saw no US military deaths there. It's the first time that has happened since we invaded. The war in Afghanistan, however, is building up, with 30,000 more troops preparing for service there. No one has missed the irony that President Obama received the Nobel Peace Prize as Commander In Chief of two theaters of war.

I am no military or foreign policy expert, but I cannot help but have a sense of foreboding about the situation in Afghanistan. We have been pursuing Osama bin Laden for nine years. Other than bringing him to justice, I'm not sure we have a clear objective or goal. I was somewhat heartened, however, by a recent interview Bill Moyers had with Greg Mortensen, author of Three Cups of Tea and Stones Into Schools. Mortensen reported that US military officials are making more effort to work with local leaders and to understand Afghan culture. He said he detected increasing opposition to the Taliban over the past two years. And, of course, he continues to build schools, especially schools for girls. The number of Afghan girls in school has increased ten-fold in the past ten years.

Within our Association, war and peace are currently the subject of a lot of agonized word-smithing. That's because the final version of a Statement of Conscience on Peacemaking will soon be set. This June's General Assembly will likely vote on its adoption. The document is interesting reading - even though it's been developed by a committee! Its sections review the range of UU positions, give a bit of history, ground our ideas in theological principles and lay out actions that promote peace building, peacemaking and peacekeeping on several levels. Personal, interpersonal, congregational, societal and global steps are included. I am reminded of one of the readings in our hymnal - from Lao-Tse:

If there is to be peace in the world, there must be peace in the nations.
If there is to be peace in the nations, there must be peace in the cities.
If there is to be peace in the cities, there must be peace between neighbors.
If there is to be peace between neighbors, there must be peace in the home.
If there is to be peace in the home, there must be peace in the heart.

I like the idea of peacebuilding - a new term to me - and I like the recognition that peace can be pursued at many levels. I don't see them as a hierarchy, which that piece may suggest, but more as a potentially energizing loop or cycle. If we are more peaceful in our hearts, we are more likely to interact peaceably with others. At the same time, if we promote peace in our communities and nations, we are each more likely to be peaceful within. It's pretty hard to be patient and kind when you are hungry or cold, when you don't know if your children are safe or how to get care when one of your own is ill or injured. We don't have to be paragons of personal peace to act in ways that show compassion and promote justice. I believe that increasing peaceful conditions at any level enhances the possibilities for increasing peace in all the others.

I think the Statement - and any work or conversation about it - encourages us to envision peace more and more fully. I welcome that, because I think we fail to imagine peace vividly, to see its possibilities and rich gifts with detail and specificity. This failure limits our motivation to work toward, to approach and eventually achieve peace. I harbor no illusions that peace will come soon. But it will never come at all if we don't have a clear and compelling picture of what peace entails.

I will never forget a conversation I had in seminary. It took place at the end of a preaching class, as we were all gathering our things and beginning to leave. One of my fellow students told us he would be preaching at a nearby congregation the following Sunday. "It's UN Sunday," he said and described how he would advocate for the work of the UN. 'I'm going to tell them it's important work,' he concluded, even though "peace is boring." I about jumped out of my skin. "You can't say that!" I was probably yelping. "Peace isn't boring! Peace is when you are reasonably assured that your children will live and grow strong into adulthood! Peace is where you plant and harvest a crop and your families and communities aren't hungry! Peace is where you build homes, schools and other institutions and they last to serve others! Peace is where the arts flourish! You can't say that peace is boring!" He was undaunted. "Yes, I can," he said, "and I will." He talked about the glory of warriors, the excitement of explosions, the adrenaline of danger. He reminded me that our movies make warfare look like a wonderful adventure.

If he changed his sermon at all, I will never know. But I can promise you that I will never be reconciled to those words, even though I know what he meant. I say we need to get a lot more imaginative about what peace means. And we need to be connected to its life giving potential. I've adapted a piece by the Rev. Kathleen Rolenz, which begins to voice that needed imagery.

Somewhere across the world, dawn is breaking.

Somewhere in the world - perhaps not this day, but some day soon, a (couple) rise from their beds, shaking the sleep from their eyes, and find their children already awake and preparing for their morning prayers.

There has been no gunfire, no drug wars, no yelling or shouting or screaming, only the quiet of the night and the peace of silence around them.

And somewhere in the world, perhaps not this morning, but soon, very soon, a soldier is packing his duffle bag, has emptied out all (her) bullets, is changing into civilian clothes, and is coming home, for peace has long been established, and there is no need for his presence.

And somewhere in the world, dawn breaks over the earth, not only on this day, but every day, and the familiar pulse in our veins throbs of "peace, peace, peace."

May that pulse indeed become familiar. It brings such gifts!

Returning to Greg Mortensen for a moment, he told Moyers that he had asked Afghan women - poor, surrounded by the threat of fighting and pressured by the Taliban - he asked what they wanted. "They told me two things," he said, "two simple things. We want out babies to live. And we want our children to go to school." Their words put things in perspective, don't they? We take these foundational things for granted because we live in a land with a high level of peace. Yet that peace has been built with determination, sacrifice and with violence - all guided by a vision of the way life should be. Peace needs that vision - and constant care and rebuilding - in our hearts, our families and neighborhoods, our congregations and communities and our world.

Rasor's UU World article does more than show the commonalities between just war supporters and pacifists. He proposes that both can inform a position of "prophetic nonviolence" for Unitarian Universalists. He suggests that we can hold out a vision of justice and compassion, that we can critique our governments, our communities and our congregational and personal practices. We need to keep peace at the center of our awareness, he says, and relegate war to the fringes. He reminds us that our shared values for love and justice, for freedom, community and respect for all ground both our critiques and our choices in relationship and behavior. We can be agents for peace: peace building, making and keeping.

Peace is more than a lack of fighting, more than the absence of explosions and injuries and blood. Its gifts are hard to number, like counting waves breaking on the shore. But they can be imagined. They can be developed and brought into being. If we so choose. Choosing the paths of peace is not the same as being naive or blind to the frailties and failures of humankind. We know that the road toward peace will be long and difficult. We don't necessarily agree about what steps might be warranted when evil has taken hold. But we side with those who choose, not fear, but love and hope as guides. The proposed Statement of Conscience on Peacemaking begins, "We believe all people share a moral responsibility to create peace." "All people." For only human hands, human minds and human hearts can do the work of peacebuilding, peacemaking and peacekeeping. Each of us has hands, a mind and heart. We must build the way. Which steps will you choose? When?

January 24, 2010

This is one of our Minister's Sermons. We also have a brief biography of Rev. Simons, and the latest edition of Grace Notes, a column she writes for our newsletter.
We have another sermon collection, from our Guests.