Over the past three days, I’ve had my 1000% daily recommended dose of ‘Pope’: waving “hi” and “bye” at the National Shrine, attending the mass at Nationals Stadium, reading his flurry of speeches/addresses/homilies over and over again, and most importantly - praying that the Holy Spirit will open my heart to learning from our Church and its leader. But I wasn’t quite prepared for the opening salvo of our Holy Spirit, coming in the Pope’s words at the White House:

“Freedom is not only a gift, but also a summons to personal responsibility. Americans know this from experience — almost every town in this country has its monuments honoring those who sacrificed their lives in defense of freedom, both at home and abroad.”

These words crushed me.

How could the Pope repeat United States propaganda, and express admiration for US bloodshed? I racked my mind for ways to interpret his words in another way, but I couldn’t. Not in that context. Not at the White House with the President standing next to him. Not as the Iraq war rages on. The Pope meant what he said, but not as propaganda. He spoke sincerely. He marvels at American monuments and sees those who “sacrificed their lives defense of freedom”. Pope Benedict looks at our country and sees . . . goodness. When I look at our country, I see . . . evil. I want the Pope to condemn war and abortion, not to call our country ‘great’ and ‘religious’. I want brimstone and fire and words of fury! But from the mouth and heart of our Pope come nothing but goodness.

I have so much to learn.

After a great deal of reflection and prayer, my heart has moved, my neck has bent. I have seen something startling: we live in a society where “defense of life” and “nonviolence” are mostly mutually exclusive, and because the defense of life must take priority over a commitment to nonviolence, most Christians are duty-bound to defend life with the least amount of violence possible.

Did I just write that? I did. But only after three days of gut-wrenching prayer!

I am not suggesting that violence is good, or even Christian. I am suggesting, however, that the circumstances of our society require us to choose defense of life over nonviolence. In other words - if the only way I can defend life is to use a gun, then I must use a gun.

Those familiar with nonviolence and theology will hear echos of the “fallen world” defense of violence in my thoughts. But here’s where I depart from such thinking: Jesus Christ has redeemed the world, and has sent us into the world with his Holy Spirit. This fallen world can be transformed. And we are the ones called to transform it.

But at present, our fallen society has few practical, concrete, and readily available means of nonviolently defending life. Boycotts will not save us from a bullet to the head. Strikes will not stop robbers from breaking into our homes. Nonviolent communication will not stop those who do not wish to communicate. We have no nonviolent alternatives to police forces or militaries. We have no nonviolent alternatives to courts and prisons. Nonviolent means of defending life are mostly confined to idealistic exhortations to “love your enemy and trust in God’s grace to work miracles.”

Nonviolent means of defending life must be reasonable, passing the common sense rule, being as readily available as the gun in Target, or a call to 911. To criticize those who use violence to defend life when there are no other ways to defend life is . . . well . . . possibly scandalous.

To summarize, Gandhi said:

I have been repeating over and over again that he who cannot protect himself or his nearest and dearest or their honour by nonviolently facing death may and ought to do so by violently dealing with the oppressor. He who can do neither of the two is a burden. He has no business to be the head of a family. He must either hide himself, or must rest content to live for ever in helplessness and be prepared to crawl like a worm at the bidding of a bully.

Instead of offering concrete ways of defending home and family without violence, I have condemned all violence in every situation. I forced people into a corner - demanding they renounce violence while giving them nothing in its place - asking them to be “like a worm at the bidding of a bully.” I have fought to show violence as wrong in every situation, but never considered that violence could be wrong yet relatively legitimate. In a not-yet-redeemed society, the evil of violence may be the least wrong choice, and our duty.

My advocacy of nonviolence has consisted in saying, “no, no, no!” to America. But our Pope tells us that Christianity is not “no, no, no,” but is “yes, yes, yes!” All his words and actions reverberate within the great “yes” that is Christ our hope. Not one word of “no” passed through his lips over the past three days, even as he spoke of evil. Instead, he proposed solutions aimed at transforming our society into one of peace and justice - a world where men and women can finally embrace nonviolence, “a world where it is easier to be good.”

It is time for me to do the same.

It’s amazing what a Pope can do. I feel like I’ve been through a war, and that this little reflection is but a brief respite. But thank God, and praise Him. He is GOOD.

(Cross-posted at Vox Nova)

Recently Father Zuhlsdorf described US warships as “gorgeous” and “amazing”, naming those slain by these warships as “educated”. After receiving criticism, Fr. Z explained: “I do not apologize . . . [America] pulled many other peoples’ fat out of the fire with the blood of her soldiers, sailors and marines. Pope Benedict in his first Message for the World Day of Peace pointed out the importance of military intervention at times to establish the proper framework for true peace.”

But did Fr. Z read all of the Pope’s World Day of Peace message, “In Truth, Peace“, where he stated that “[lies] are the framework for menacing scenarios of death in many parts of the world . . . truths are what make peace possible”?

Lies include calling machines made for slaughter - battleships - “gorgeous”. Battleships are not beautiful. They are ugly. They are huge chunks of metal formed and shaped for one purpose - the deliberate destruction of human life. This is not gorgeous. It is horrifying. Though Catholics might accept violence as necessary, a Catholic can never accept violence as beautiful.

Read the rest of this entry »

A recent reading gives us something to ponder:

if this endeavor or this activity is of human origin,
it will destroy itself.
But if it comes from God, you will not be able to destroy them;
you may even find yourselves fighting against God. (Apr 4th)

The Gospel reminds us that Christ can take a few scraps of food and turn it into a feast. But Christ, through His Church, can do far more than multiply loaves and fishes. His Church will storm the very gates of hell, and win. It seems that every other month I meet a Catholic who is convinced that the Church is upon the verge of total annihilation, upon the precipice of defeat. The enemy threatening to devour Catholicism is always different: relativism, radical traditionalists, money, the Vatican, and more often than I can comprehend, Islam.

Gerald at the The Cafeteria is Closed sums this mindset up:

I know that Catholicism is a suicide cult to some but thankfully not to the majority, else there’d be no Catholicism. (Haloscan)

Their solutions, ironically, are always the same: personal and interpersonal violence. Is hell is to be conquered with tanks and protests, with nukes and curses? Why do so many Catholics put more trust in our own power than God’s? Why do we call guns peacemakers, even while deriding compassionate souls as peaceniks? Other the side, why do we fight for justice without praying to the God of justice? How can we look for Christ in others while ignoring Christ in the Church? Why do hold signs saying ‘love your enemies’ while cursing enemies in our hearts?

If we really believed that Christ had triumphed on the cross, then we’d rejoice in our so called ‘defeats’. Mother Theresa said it well: we are called to be faithful, not successful. The Apostles rejoiced at being scourged for Christ. They didn’t see suffering and death as a sign of defeat. They saw suffering as a sign of Christ’s presence, “rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name.” For his name - a name that they remained faithful to, even as they stared at the defeat of the cross.

This doesn’t mean that we sit back while evil triumphs. Christ didn’t say that he’d protect the Church from hell. He said that the gates of hell would not stand against the Church! The Church attacks! The body of Christ confronts evil, and defeats its enemies!

But how? How does the body of Christ break hell into pieces? “I have given you a model to follow,” Christ tells us. “I give you a new commandment: love one another as I have loved you.” This new form of warfare is described by our new Pope:

The Lord has conquered on the cross. He has not conquered with a new empire, with a force that is more powerful than others, capable of destroying them; he has not conquered in a human manner, as we imagine, with an empire stronger than the other. He has conquered with a love capable of going to death.

This is God’s new way of conquering: He does not oppose violence with a stronger violence. He opposes violence precisely with the contrary: with love to the end, his cross. This is God’s humble way of overcoming: With his love — and only thus is it possible — he puts a limit to violence. This is a way of conquering that seems very slow to us, but it is the true way of overcoming evil, of overcoming violence, and we must trust this divine way of overcoming. (Zenit)

In weakness, St. Paul tells us, we find true strength. Weakness allows us to love, allow us to be merciful. And it is precisely through mercy that evil is defeated. In his encyclical Rich in Mercy, Pope John Paul the Great draws these thoughts into one final conclusion:

Mercy constitutes the fundamental content of the messianic message of Christ and the constitutive power of His mission . . . (it) does not allow itself to be “conquered by evil,” but overcomes “evil with good.”

Mercy will destroy our enemies. Mercy will destroy evil. Mercy will, and has, saved us.

If they come at us with missles, we come back at them with mercy. If they come at us with nukes, we come back at them with mercy.

Suicide bombers? Mercy.
“Radical Islam”? Mercy.
Unjust wars? Mercy.
Poverty? Mercy.
Greed? Mercy.
Hunger? Mercy.
Racism? Mercy.
Abortion? Mercy.
The assault upon families? Mercy.
Crime? Mercy.
Murder? Mercy.
Death? Mercy.

Evil?
Mercy.

Believing in the crucified Son means “seeing the Father,” means believing that love is present in the world and that this love is more powerful than any kind of evil in which individuals, humanity, or the world are involved. Believing in this love means believing in mercy. For mercy is an indispensable dimension of love; it is as it were love’s second name and, at the same time, the specific manner in which love is revealed and effected vis-a-vis the reality of the evil that is in the world, affecting and besieging man, insinuating itself even into his heart and capable of causing him to “perish in Gehenna. (Rich in Mercy, JPtG)

In case we have forgotten, the works of mercy:

The Corporal Works of Mercy
To feed the hungry
To give drink to the thirsty.
To clothe the naked.
To visit and ransom the captives.
To shelter the homeless.
To visit the sick.
To bury the dead.

The Spiritual Works of Mercy
To admonish sinners.
To instruct the ignorant.
To counsel the doubtful.
To comfort the sorrowful.
To bear wrongs patiently.
To forgive all injuries.
To pray for the living and the dead.

So both of my parents live and work in Iraq’s green zone, which is currently being attacked by rockets. Reportedly, two Americans have been killed this week. As the Shi’ites begin to kill one another across Iraq, and as my brother (a Marine infantryman) begins his 2nd deployment to Iraq, my emotions creep into the dark-side. Someone is trying to kill my family. The enemy is attempting to mutilate their bodies, scar their hearts, and destroy their being. If my mother comes back with half a face and a breathing tube down her throat, if my brother comes back with missing limbs and burnt-out eyes, if my father comes back in a flag-draped coffin, then I can’t predict what I would do. Maybe I’d reenlist into the Army. Maybe I’d get on TV and scream, “This enemy will never stop! The only solution is to kill them all!” Or maybe I’d cultivate silent hate.

But my faith in Jesus Christ and his Church calls me to another path, for my faith reveals the truth about my enemy, our enemy: “This enemy is not human.” We cannot destroy this enemy with a rifle, with a surge, with a military occupation.

Pope JPtG taught us, “no peace without justice, no justice without forgiveness.” Killing people in Iraq will not bring forgiveness. Rifles are not tools of reconciliation. Stryker armored vehicles rolling into Sadr city will not broker mercy. Bombs falling will not lead to flowers and forgiveness. The United States Military is an organization that trains for one thing: the spilling of human blood. Warriors know this. Soldiers are not trained in conflict-resolution during basic training. They’re trained to stick sharpened pieces of metal into human bodies while yelling, “KILL!”

No peace without justice. No justice without forgiveness.

And no forgiveness without sacrifice - ours, upon crosses, with “father, forgive them,” on our lips, with love of enemy in our hearts. To all Christians, I ask you - how is killing a self-sacrifice for love of enemy? How is killing an overture of reconciliation? How is killing a work of mercy? What sacrifices are you willing to make, rather than take? Make a sacrifice or take a sacrifice - carry a cross or carry a rifle. Both crosses and rifles require courage, both require bloodshed, both require sacrifice, but only one leads to forgiveness, to justice, to peace. Only one is VICTORY.

“Loving the enemy is the nucleus of the ‘Christian revolution’ . . . (it) is rightly considered the magna carta of Christian nonviolence.” - Pope Benedict XVI