Sermons

"Collateral Damage"

 Delivered from the Pulpit of First Congregational Church

of Anchorage by The Rev. Mark E. Long

on July 19, 2009

Lections:  Jos. 22.10-12, 15-16, 21-24, 28-29; ref. Gen. 4.1-12

                  Rm. 14.13, 17-20a

                  Mk. 13.1-8

The questions put to me today concern "war" and what holds us together as it wages on.  Sure "war is hell" and no one in his right mind (and some world leaders are not) is for it.  "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me," right? 

All right, those are my "tip of the tongue" reactions to the matter of "war."  But their glibness ignores the "reality on the ground" that "war is hell" but some things that some leaders want matter to them enough for them to lead their people there.  And yes, by all means, "let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me," but not before the playing field tilts in the desired direction.

I have often thought that if those who wish to lead nations to war were collectively put on a small, remote island together and each given a bat then we would have a whole lot less war.  It is easy to "saber rattle" when it is not your saber going into the fray or that of a loved one.

I am not a pacifist.  I am not a hawk.  I am just one who believes that there must be a better way to live through the "birth pains" of awakening to a deeper humanity.  At bottom, we are called to rise above the tendencies toward taking life, liberty, or possessions of others whether to secure our own or just because we want them.  As Jesus made clear, all other human life is to be valued as much as your own.

As with many things, the human race makes uneven, unsteady, but visible progress in places and times getting down this road.  The first story of "war" in the Bible is a brother killing his brother.  This shows us, if nothing else, what the author thought about the tendencies of men.  Life was not highly prized.

But then over the centuries something happens and while "war" is common the Scriptures no longer accept human life as expendable in the waging of it.  War may be a way of life, but should not be taken lightly, and discouraged between family members.

When the Israelites finally quit wandering around in the wilderness, Moses distributes the "Promised land" between the twelve tribes.  Moses gives land east of the Jordan River to the Ruebenites and Gadites, descendants of Rueben and Gad, two of Jacob's twelve sons, and to the half tribe of Manasseh, a son of Joseph.[1]

Each has a primary claim then as one of the twelve tribes of Israel.[2]  So when they set up the altar on the west side of the Jordan River it is not as tribal outsiders but as legitimate heirs to part of the "Promised land."

Nevertheless, their crossing the Jordan River and setting up an altar on the west side of the river poses a provocation to the westside tribes in the story because it would be a provocation to the hearers of the story after the exile who know that Jerusalem is the only appropriate place for sacrifice to YHWH.  It is not allowed to just go out and put up your own altar and presumably it never has been.

The story is driven by a question that brings fear to the eastside tribes as they look into a future divided by a river from the rest of the family:  "Will future generations remember that we are part of the family?"  They construct the "altar" of witness so that in years ahead later generations west of the Jordan River see the altar and remember that the "eastsiders" are family.  Ironically, it almost led to war and would have led to war if someone had not decided to listen rather than react.

Different from the fratricide of the Cain and Abel story, here the westside tribes do not strike out of emotion but send a delegation to "hear" what their brothers east of the river intend.  The conflict turns out to be a huge misunderstanding.  The eastside tribes explain that they built a "copy" of an altar (not a real one) as a symbol of witness and the preparations for war come to an end.

War is averted between family members when one side stops to listen to what their brothers have to say.  Intentions don't count much if they are not shared, but intentions don't count for much either if they are not listened to.

Some "war" is inevitable but not all of it and far less, I believe, than is waged on our behalf or among us.  The question for us before we pick up our club, let loose our bullets or words, is still the same as it was for the teller of this story:  Who is family?  What difference does it make?

The story tells us that it makes the difference between war and peace.  When the "other" of our lives is seen as an outsider or worse - less than human - then bad things begin to happen.  The world's history is cluttered with examples.  Would such things happen if the aggressor believed its adversary to be family?  We might imagine they would be much slower to act with violence even if their interests were not shared.

"War" happens when our definition of family is too narrow to include those whose self-interest is different than ours.  Vicious things get said or done to the "other;" sometimes the other is in a position to strike back and sometimes not.  We have either war or genocide.

It is still done, often times at the end of manipulation; but thank god it has become more difficult as history marches on to demonize others or strike the first blow against them.  Another hopeful sign of humanity's progress toward reflecting its Creator is that the definition of family continues to expand.  Much of the world is little different, but much of the world is much different.  In many places understanding of who is family, as with the idea of who is neighbor, is more inclusive as the world's view creeps glacier-like closer to a unified perspective of what it already embodies.  Will we make it before it is too late?  Big question - I have no idea but, as I say, there are hopeful signs. 

As a parting note on war, I leave the story of today with a thought on the role of faith in pushing ordinary people into harm's way.  We usually think of faith as a positive effect to motivate selfless acts but there can be a dark side to faith.

People don't attach bombs to them selves or get up and run headlong into enemy fire unless they are counting on the future with some kind of faith.  It may be the thought of cavorting with multiple vestal virgins, a place among the gods, or the opportunity to see Jesus sooner rather than later.  But the dark side of faith can be the tool by which ordinary people line up to do the bidding of those who lack faith of the most important kind - to believe that the family of God, by whatever name, excludes no one.  It is up to the ones who do the bidding to muster the faith in them selves to say "no" to those who would make them "collateral damage" of narrow visions of family.  If or when they do, we can all sing the song loudly that no longer mocks us:  "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me."

Next week I will consider "collateral damage" lying about in the wake of our differences closer to home.  I reflect on the second question drawn from the "sermon box:" What holds us together in times of war?  Clearly a broader definition of 'family' is part of the answer but not all of it.

This is how I see war from the idealistic perspective learned from the idealist I give my life to follow and serve.  Amen.