CrossCurrents A Catholic Reflects on Faith in Our Times
Bernard
F. Swain, Ph.D.
The Tough Lessons of 2003 (part 1)
The pathetic
ex-tyrant
complains
of mouth sores, and the entire world watches a hundred replays of his oral
exam. What’s wrong with this picture? As the Christmas season unfolds this
week, it’s a good idea for Catholics to remember the real message of the
season: “Peace on Earth! Good Will to All Humankind.”
It is tempting
to fixate on one dictator’s capture, if only to avoid the reality around us.
But there’s no excuse for deceiving ourselves; the year about to end has not
brought us closer to peace. Contrary evidence is as close as the headlines for
December 26—the Feast of the Holy Innocents:
Two attacks break a lull in
Mideast
Terror alert leads to air
monitoring
Pakistan president survives
attack
Pope asks for end to wars,
terrorism
Colombians seek life beyond
violence
Confession disputed in
slaying of Serbian premier
N. Korea overspends budget for
military
Turks’ anger at West grows
Insurgents kill three
Americans in Iraq
I remember
conducting a parish staff workshop after 9/11, where one pastor shared his
personal trauma: “I don’t feel safe anymore. No matter where I am, no matter
what I’m doing, I feel uneasy that something bad is about to happen.” We
all sympathized with him, of course, but I couldn’t help noticing his age—too
young to remember the Great Depression, but too old to have grown up in the
1950s. For a Baby Boomer like me, feeling unsafe came as standard childhood
equipment. Bomb shelters, CONELRAD, strontium 90, the Strategic Air Command,
the Early Warning System, the U2, the Berlin Wall, the Cuban missile Crisis—all
provided constant reminders. Something really bad might happen at any
moment, no matter where we were, no matter what we were doing.
When the Cold
War finally ended, I struggled to imagine America at peace. After all, the only
extended peaceful period since our war against Spain (1898) was Prohibition and
the Great Depression itself, hardly a time of great security. My imagining was
futile anyhow, as the First Gulf War broke out within two years, followed by
outbreaks in Rwanda, Somalia, the prolonged Balkan conflicts, the “War on
Terror,” and finally by our invasion of Iraq. Our national track record remains
impressively consistent: with the possible exception of Vietnam, we’ve never
met a war we didn’t like.
It’s no
surprise that 2003 saw the US squander the one great opportunity—the silver
lining—in the atrocity of 9/11. The world’s horror was so widespread that
nations everywhere were prepared to follow America’s lead against terror; as
the French headline said, “Today we are all Americans!” But now that
sympathy is gone, replaced by anger and mistrust. Even the US-led “coalition”
against Iraq depends on leaders (in Britain, Spain, and Italy) willing to
ignore the will of their own people in the name of “democracy.” In the world’s
eyes, the US preaches freedom and practices war. If we are not the most hated
nation on earth, we are undoubtedly the most feared. Indeed, our prime response
to the hate that triggered 9/11 has been to make people fear us more than they
hate us. As the Pope said on Christmas, “too much blood stains the world.”
Where have we gone wrong?
In 1961 the
prophetic monk Thomas Merton referred to our problem as “war madness”:
An illness
of the mind and spirit that is speeding with a furious and subtle contagion all
over the world. Of all the countries that are sick, America is perhaps the most
grievously afflicted. This in a nation that claims to be fighting for religious
truth along with freedom and other values of the spirit.
Shortly
afterward, Pope Paul VI addressed the UN in New York with the sharpest commend
(or plea) of his papacy: “Jamais plus de Guerre! War Never Again!” Yet forty years later, war madness thrives.
The Cold War is gone, but peace has not come. The War on Terror has no end in
sight, the war in Iraq has no end in sight, the war in the Middle East has no
end in sight, and the horizon holds the threat of war in Iran, Syria, and North
Korea.
As 2003 ends,
our natural instinct is to grope for some signs of hope. As a springboard for
your own reflections, here are my own thoughts on eight tough lessons drawn
from this difficult year. If enough of us can learn those lessons, and take
them to heart, perhaps 2004 can be a better year—and perhaps the “Peace on
earth” message of Christmas will seem more of a promise and less of a rebuke:
1.
We must get real: do we really want “Peace on Earth”?
2.
Destroying evil is not the way to peace.
3. Victory does not bring
peace.
4. To understand peace, we must
understand conflict
5. Might does not make Right—or
peace.
6. Even when you win, war means
failure.
7. The only real victory is
defeating war.
8. To get peace, our faith must
pass the test.
*****
1. We must
get real: do we really want “Peace on Earth”? Thomas Merton suggested that
many people re-define peace to suit their own private needs:
The peace
the world pretends to desire is really no peace at all. To some people peace
merely means the liberty to exploit other people without fear of retaliation or
interference. To others peace means the freedom to rob others without
interruption. To still others it means the leisure to devour the goods of the
earth without being compelled to interrupt their pleasures to feed those whom
their greed is starving. And to practically everybody peace simply means the
absence of any physical violence that might cast a shadow over lives devoted
to…comfort and leisure…It is absurd to hope for a solid peace based on fictions
and illusions.
Merton
believed, in fact, that many people hold an idea of peace that is “only another
form of war.” After 9/11, for example, everyone asked, “why do they hate
us?” We were blind to the violence built into US policies in the Moslem
world. We need to open our eyes to the threats others see in us. If
we’re going to pray for peace, we’d better pray for the real thing.
2.
Destroying Evil is not the way to Peace. Christian faith has always
perceived human nature as essentially good but damaged by an infecting evil
(that’s what the doctrine of “Original Sin” means). Destroying evil is a worthy
goal, but destroying all evil is an impossible mission. If peace comes
only after the last evil person dies, then we will never have peace—and the
message of Christmas is a fraud. But Jesus was shrewder than that. As a grown
man, he gave his hardest lesson when he taught his followers “love your
enemies”—because he knew that humanity would always include enemies. If you pursue
peace by eliminating your enemies, the result is permanent war. Anyone can make
peace with loved ones—the acid test is making peace with our enemies.
Our challenge
is simple: when we celebrate the birth of baby Jesus, we must be prepared to
face the tough teachings of the man he became.
Next
Week: the rest of the lessons.
©
Bernard F. Swain PhD 2003
Send Your Comments and
Questions to bfswain@juno.com
Dr. Swain’s opinions do not represent the views of this parish or any
other official body.
Bernie Swain has devoted more than 30 years to adult spiritual formation in dioceses in the US, Canada, and France. Since 1991 he has maintained a private practice as trainer, teacher, and consultant to leaders in parishes and other religious organizations. He holds degrees in theology and political science from Holy Cross, Harvard, The University of Paris, and the University of Chicago. His writings include Liberating Leadership (Harper & Row, 1986) and more than 200 articles in periodicals such as The National Catholic Reporter, Commonweal, The Miami Herald, The Catholic Free Press, The Pilot, Harvard Theological Review, and Liturgy. A lifelong layperson, he lives in Boston with his wife and three children