An Open Letter to American Churches for Peace

I've been interacting with Norman Horn over the past several weeks. He's the owner of the site Libertarian Christians. While I don't consider myself a libertarian, I have great respect for the libertarian perspective (which I encourage you to learn more about at Norman's site). If there's one thing I appreciate the most about American libertarians, it's that they're by far the most consistently anti-war in their political philosophy. I would argue that American libertarians (a sub-group within the modern conservative movement) are more consistent in their critiques of U.S. foreign policy than their liberal counterparts. As I've been working (along with Rick Love at Peace Catalyst) to put together a network called Evangelicals for Peace, it's been a pleasure engaging with Norman. As you read Norman's open letter, whether you agree with him or not, think about the counter-cultural nature of the prophetic calling of the Church------Aaron

By Norman Horn

To Churches across America, grace and peace to you from our Lord Jesus Christ:

Without fail, churches all throughout America pray publicly about America’s troops. On any given Sunday, one can hear people pray for men and women in the military, that they receive “special measures of protection” as they fight to “protect our freedoms” and “serve our country.” While we understand the concerns of church members who have friends and family in the armed forces, and while we sincerely hope for their safe return immediately, we find that these kinds of prayers are neglectful of another group – those victims who suffer wrongfully from this war, to whom we are indeed responsible in part for their suffering. Regardless of one’s opinion of these wars, we think that all can agree upon inspection that this practice can and should change to be more inclusive.

For instance, we never hear prayers for our fellow Christians who live in Iraq and Afghanistan. Since the US invasion in 2003, Christians who were tolerated in the past have been repeatedly persecuted and frequently even killed by indiscriminate warfare or surging extremist groups, and nearly half of the Christian population of 800,000 in Iraq has either fled the country or died. In March 2010 alone, over 4,000 Christians were displaced from their homes following unrest in the northern city of Mosul. Many more have confined themselves to their homes for their own safety.

Moreover, we rarely, if ever, hear prayers for the innocent people in Iraq that die on a daily basis, either from indiscriminate killing by our own military or civil unrest that results from a country torn apart by war. The lowest estimates of non-combatant deaths in Iraq number greater than 100,000. Unfortunately, over time our sensibilities and attitudes toward this war – which is now the longest prolonged conflict in American history – have become desensitized and lackadaisical, and thus we often forget these innocent people.

We appeal to churches everywhere, and especially to church leaders, to lead the way toward recognizing this issue with two simple proposals. First, we propose that if a church bulletin includes prayer request for “Family Members in the Military,” that it should also include mention of the innocent and oppressed in Iraq and Afghanistan, especially our Iraqi and Afghan brothers and sisters in Christ, and for an end to war. Second, we propose that the church leaders take the lead in consistently mentioning the same in prayer with the congregation on Sunday mornings. If the prayers of the righteous are powerful and effective, then surely instituting this practice will do good both for these victims and for our own spirits.

We support this appeal with Scripture in two ways. First, if you consider these people as we do, that they are innocent victims and have been wronged by their own leaders, by extremists, and by our own military, then may we pray to God as Jesus taught his disciples: to be “delivered from evil.” If we can pray this for ourselves, surely we can do so for others. But second, if you still consider these people our enemies, then may we do as Jesus said in Matthew 5: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven.” May this be the beginning of understanding what Jesus said moments before, “Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

Changing our practice to include praying for the oppressed is not a political statement. In fact, this is not a political issue in the least; on the contrary it is a moral and theological issue. If we are to pray “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” then we should take seriously that Jesus came and died to proclaim peace on earth and to liberate the oppressed. We may expect that “wars and rumors of wars” will always exist, but this does not require a condoning or defeatist attitude of such events. Rather, this understanding should make us more sensitive and more compassionate toward those who suffer.

To conclude, war is arguably the most destructive human activity ever devised, and it is an intensely serious moral and theological issue because of its finality for those involved either directly as soldiers or indirectly as innocents. It is right to earnestly pray for our family members participating in war, but let us not become callous to the suffering of others, especially those to whom we are indirectly responsible for their suffering. Therefore, we should let our congregational prayers reflect our concern for them. In Christ,

Norman Horn

Source:LibertarianChristians.com

Is it about independence or explosions?

I received this e-mail today from Iraq Veterans Against the War. While I enjoy celebrating the 4th of July with fireworks, it made me think about those who have experienced real violence, either as the invader or the invaded.


Thoughts and Analysis on July 4th at 1:16 AM

by Ryan Harvey, Civilian Soldier Alliance


I sat on the stone wall that lines Druid Lake tonight and watched Baltimore destroyed by bombs. I watched tracers light up the sky, followed by the deep pulse of distant explosions.

I watched huge clouds of smoke rise from downtown, escaping from the flaming buildings. I saw explosions as far as Dundalk, Curtis Bay, and Morgan State. I saw light emerging from deep in the West Side, illuminating the trees that line the park.

I saw the Belvedere Hotel hit by a series of missiles, a huge flame bursting out the East wall. I remembered when the bartender there took me and a friend on the roof to see the best 360 degree view I'd ever seen of the city. I wondered if he would survive the attack.

Then a huge bomb fell into the apartment building at Howard and 28th, sending a large cloud of smoke into the air. I could only imagine the horrors inside as elderly residents tried to escape the flames. I watched cars crossing the 29th St. bridge fired on by helicopters that then continued on their way into Remington. I watched mortar fire land in the houses of Reservoir Hill that face the park, and heard the sounds of gunfire from the streets behind them.

It was a total nightmare, something I never wanted to experience. Thankfully, it was mostly in my head. It was the Fourth of July, and celebratory explosions were popping off all over the city.

But I wasn't celebrating, I was mourning. The fireworks reminded me not of 1776 or 1812, but of 2003, when I watched an almost identical scene on the TV news. I thought not of British Redcoats, but of U.S. Soldiers and Marines. I was watching a re-run of Shock And Awe, the massive bombing campaign the U.S. unleashed on Baghdad on March 19th, 2003.

I texted a friend, a former National Guardsman who participated in the initial invasion of Iraq. I told him I was thinking of Baghdad, watching the city light up, and I asked how he was. He said he was "in hiding," not interested in being taken back to that place again, at least, not this year.

I thought how many friends of mine, Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans who have joined the ranks of the anti-war movement, were in hiding too, taking pills to calm their shattered nerves, reasoning with their shame and anger at the roles they played in occupying these countries.

I thought of my childhood friend Austin Koth, who deployed to Baghdad in 2006 with an Explosive Ordnance Disposal unit. I imagined which exploding firework might best match the sound of the Improvised Explosive Device (IED) that took his life two weeks before he would have come home. Then I heard it.

I thought about the millions of Iraqi and Afghan citizens whose lives have been turned upside down by the "Global War on Terror". I felt so sad and sorry to the Iraqi people for the actions of my government, a government that wouldn't budge no matter how unpopular the invasion was or how many people voiced opposition to it.

I wondered how I could explain that to those who lost limbs when our bombs came crashing into their neighborhoods because one of their neighbors may or may not have posed a threat to U.S. forces. I thought about the brave people who picked up weapons to defend their communities from the invasion of my government.

I thought "what if Baltimore was really being bombed right now?" I wondered what I would actually feel like, what it means to watch your home, the home of so many friends and family, crumble under the bombs of a foreign government. I wondered what I would do and what my friends would do. Would I go out into the chaos to look for survivors? Would I stay far away hoping to save my own life? Would I fight? Would I organize others to fight with me?

These thoughts paralyzed me for an hour as I sat and stared out into the city. I was among families having cookouts, all the while a simulation of a major bombing campaign lit up my city's skyline.

All I could think of was Baghdad.

It is amazing that we celebrate our Independence Day in such a way. A total glorification of war. A sensory overload of violence. After all, our fireworks are meant to imitate the "bombs bursting in air" which helped win the Independence War against Britain.

I wonder how many take time on this day to consider the Independence movement that led to the creation of the United States. I wonder if they think about other Independence movements, from India to Algeria to Mozambique, that fought similar struggles against colonialism.

I wonder if any note the parallels between British policy in colonial America and U.S. policy in Iraq. After all, it was the British who set the stage for our presence when they invaded and occupied Iraq in 1921.

And the Iraqi resistance that arose after U.S. Administrator of Iraq Paul Bremer set drastic and far-reaching economic decrees in 2004 isn't that different from events in our own history. American Patriots fought back after similar changes were initiated by the British in the 1760s and 70s. They rioted against the Stamp Act and dumped Tea in the Boston Harbor to protest British economic policies.

Then they picked up guns.

But political history aside, a deeper question remains; why the glorification of war? Is it to remind ourselves of the glory of victory, to remember those who suffered and died to free the United States from Britain? Is it to turn war into a celebration, to be enjoyed from afar, knowing we will probably never see it?

I tend to believe the latter, that the fireworks celebration is not about Independence, it's about explosions. It's about war. It's a yearly mass-experience that reminds us that we live in a culture of violence and that we are safe enough from war that we can celebrate it from a detached position. But it's not a conspiracy by some branch of government or some multinational fireworks company, it's a cultural practice, an unwritten consensus.

If we took time to consider the real impacts that war and mass violence have across the world, I don't think we would be able to stomach all the hot dogs. I think we would start to feel the weight of so many lives that were taken early by the crippling shards of shrapnel bursting out of bombs and missiles dropped by our military around the world.

And if we all considered what we would do if we were on the receiving end of such an assault, if we saw the bombing of Baltimore the way i did tonight, maybe we would feel the common humanity that binds us to those in Iraq, Afghanistan, and countless other countries that live the results of our government's aggressive foreign policy.

Perhaps then we could start celebrating Independence Day in a way that honors, educates about, or supports those fighting similar battles today, even if they are against our own government's policies.

The ACLU files lawsuit against President Obama over drone attacks

Last night I googled the words "drone attacks Obama" to verify if President Obama has indeed increased unmanned aerial drone attacks in the Afghanistan/Pakistan border region. Sure enough, not only has the president significantly increased these extrajudicial killings that also happen to kill a lot of civilians; it turns out that the ACLU has recently filed a lawsuit against the president challenging his right to carry out the attacks.

Just for kicks, I'd like to take a look at President Bush's human rights policies and see which ones have been continued under President Obama.

Extraordinary renditions? Check.

Militarization of Latin America? Check.

Fumigating crops in Columbia to fight the drug war? Check.

Threat of military force against Iran? Check.

Drone attacks against civilians in Pakistan? Increased.

Military aid to Israel? Increased.

What is striking about the President is that despite his smooth-talking in Cairo, despite the Nobel Peace prize, despite the never ending efforts of neo-con pundits to turn Obama into a first class whimp, the difference between Obama and Bush is a mile wide when it comes to rhetoric but an inch deep when it comes to reality.

Granted, Obama’s willingness to work with—as opposed to arrogantly dismiss—the international community on issues like nuclear non-proliferation and global climate change, along with his more respectful tone towards the Muslim world, has gone a long way to reduce the knee-jerk anti-Americanism that was so prevalent during the Bush years. Still, I wonder if Christians in the historic peace-churches will be able to honestly vote for a second term in 2012 and still have the right to call themselves pacifists?

While it may be true that a McCain/Palin administration would have been more bellicose and hostile to the rest of the world, at what point does voting for the lesser of two evils become complicity in acts of violence against others? Perhaps it’s a little early to ask this question, but the question still bothers me nonetheless.

Obama's escalation in Afghanistan, should Christians take a side?

On the eve of the election last November, I wrote a thinly-veiled endorsement of Barack Obama and blasted it out to my friends and family. Now after listening to President Obama’s speech trying to sell the American people on his decision to escalate the war in Afghanistan, there’s a verse of Scripture that’s taken on a profound new significance, “Do not put your trust in princes, nor in a son of man in whom there is no help” (Psalm 146:3).

By all accounts, it looks like President Obama is about to commit a colossal mistake. For starters, 30,000 troops is a drop in the bucket for what’s truly needed for an effective counter-insurgency. The Russians tried to do the same thing we’re doing and it turned out to be the death of their empire. And to top it off, we’re sending our men and women to spill their blood in order to prop up a government of war criminals that brutalize women, oppress their people, and use the tax dollars of hard-working Americans to fleece their people and fill their coffers. Is this change we can believe in? No, it’s not. At least for me it’s not.

Then again, I could be wrong. Let’s do a hypothetical and imagine that by a heavy dose of divine intervention combined with an equal dose of strategy and good luck, Obama’s plan works. In 18 months, the threat of the Taliban is neutralized, the Karzai government does a 180 and cleans up their act, and the war is responsibly brought to an end. If I were to attach God to my political views and make it the “Christian view” that the escalation is wrong, then what will I have done to the credibility of the Christian message if I turn out to be wrong? Even, worse. What if I made that a part of the kingdom gospel that I preach? Come to Jesus and end the war in Afghanistan!

Progressive evangelicals often chide their right-wing counterparts for focusing on a narrow set of issues and claiming that their political solutions are God’s solutions. It seems to me, however, that both sides of the political aisle run the danger of pimping God to endorse their political views. It’s all too easy to take the big three of the Manhattan Declaration (abortion, gay marriage, and religious liberty) and replace them with the big three of progressive evangelicals’ agenda (war, poverty, and the environment). If both sides claim that God sides with their political views or that their issues are the most important, then how are they really that different from each other? If either side takes a position that turns out to be wrong or endorses a candidate that turns out to be disappointing—as I’m sure that right about now there’s a degree of buyers remorse for religious leaders that endorsed Obama—then whose credibility is damaged?

Perhaps a better approach for Christians is to preach the gospel, serve our fellow man with good works, focus on living a Kingdom lifestyle within the life of the Church, and recognize the ambiguity in all political solutions to earthly problems. I may know that abortion is wrong and never counsel a woman to have an abortion because of my religious beliefs, but that doesn’t mean that I’m privy to special knowledge on how to translate that into a political solution that will save the most unborn lives. I may refuse to serve in combat because I believe that killing in war is a violation of Jesus’ command to “love your enemies”, but that doesn’t mean that I have God’s perspective on what should be done about Iraq and Afghanistan. If I claim that I do, then the credibility of the gospel that I preach is damaged in the end. If Obama’s decision has taught me anything, it’s that political humility isn’t just an option for Christians; it’s a necessity.