A sermon by Dale Rosenberger, Minister
First Congregational Church, UCC, Ridgefield, Connecticut
Romans 12.16-21
23 March 2003
Last week our paths didn't cross more than usual, but I have been seeing your faces. And your burdened look has revealed great personal struggle. For the demons of war have again been unleashed. And what furious demons these are.
I have seen your unrest at the awful uncertainty and bitter disagreement visited upon the peoples and nations of the earth. Why can't I sleep? we ask ourselves. I have seen your heartache about how many will perish in this war we wage. Will it include someone whom I know and love? And will it exceed the more than 100,000 who died in Desert Storm? I have seen your fear and anxiety over more retributive terrorism on our shores and the loosening of destabilizing forces. Dare I travel to see my ailing sister in Atlanta just now or is that unwise? I have seen your anguish over the rightness of the war. Was this truly our best option?
I have also seen the faces of people who cannot be here. I see faces of soldiers, sailors, pilots, advisors, medics, chaplains, journalists whose lives are in harm's way. I see servicemen Todd Greene and Andrew Slater, beloved of this church. I see the faces of nameless refugees-mothers, children and elderly--clambering toward borders, toward cover, toward neighborhoods that are "supposedly safe".
Several times since last autumn I have mentioned this looming war. But until now I have hesitated to address it extensively. First, I wanted to know more about what was going to happen before speaking. Although those who know me best freely remind me that not knowing what I'm talking about doesn't always stop me.
Second, too many sermons are preached on matters like this where the pulpit is merely the left side of this vs. the right side of that, or vice versa. Such a violation only creates cynicism. For the past 2000 years the faithful respond instead from the mind of Jesus Christ. Third, I hesitate because of a cowardice that I come by quite naturally. Controversy is disturbing and we have enjoyed years of unity as a church. But as I declare that respect will reign, that those who are against the war will not be dubbed unpatriotic or unsupportive of the troops, and those supporting the war will not be called unchristian or barbaric, I must say more. For the office of ordained Christian ministry will not allow me to beg off with something so milquetoast as, "well, on one hand, but then again on the other..." Preachers have filled this pulpit who have spoken directly to the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, two great World Wars, Korea and Vietnam. I must do no less.
I want to begin with a story. The year was 390. Ambrose was the bishop of Milan. He sent a letter to a parishioner. Ambrose was convinced that this parishioner had committed a grievous sin against humanity. In his letter, Ambrose informed the parishioner that until he publicly repented, he would not be allowed to receive communion. That's correct, in effect, Bishop Ambrose had excommunicated him. Of course, this was no usual church member. The Bishop had excommunicated the sovereign ruler of the Roman Empire, Emperor Theodosius. It seems that one of Theodosius' personal officials had been murdered in Thessalonica. The exact circumstances are unclear. Maybe it was a tax revolt. Maybe it was a random terrorist attack. In any event, Theodosius did what emperors always do. He ordered in the army to teach the people of Thessalonica, and by extension the entire empire, a lesson. Some 7,000 lives-men, women, and children-were taken, the great majority of whom had nothing to do with the death of that official.
Although the Christian church was nearly uniformly pacifist for its first 300 years, and to unite with an army was cause for excommunication, this was the year 390. Ambrose was not a pacifist. Nevertheless, he knew the emperor's action required condemnation even it is meant the real possibility of being imprisoned or killed. If you think emperors like direct challenge, re-read the story of King David and the prophet Nathan. Anyway, against all odds, Emperor Theodosius repented. He publicly confessed that he had sinned. He sought absolution from his bishop.
What does it mean to be the church in a time of war? Ambrose teaches us a bit about that. What would he say about our invasion of Iraq? I am not sure what that answer is. Perhaps the more interesting question is would we pay Ambrose any heed? Christian leaders worldwide and from nearly every denomination, including the UCC, have declared that this war does not meet the centuries-old standards of just war criteria. Of course, many church leaders get written off as mere lackeys of the left and, quite frankly, some deserve that accusation. But you cannot say that about the Pope, the one man more than any other who brought down communism. He opposes this war. You can't say that Miroslav Volf, the Yale theologian who taught in seminary classrooms of Bosnia as the genocide of the nineties was raging all around him. He opposes the war. Unlike Desert Storm war, this time no appeal was made to just war criteria. Many never realized that we blithely skipped 1,500 years of moral reasoning without flinching.
What does it mean to be the Church in a time of war? One area where we can do some careful, important work is in getting our loyalties straight. A great many people who consider themselves strong followers of Jesus Christ put him aside as though he doesn't matter whenever something as important as war unfolds. That amazes me. Being a Christian is no more equal to being an American than being a Christian was equal to being a good citizen of the Roman Empire in 390.
When push comes to shove for empires, no matter the empire, they believe it is worth killing for what they believe in, if they must. The Pax Babylonia is the Pax Romana is the Pax Americana in that the peace is ultimately enforced at the end of a sword. But when push comes to shove for the followers of Jesus Christ, we hold that it is worth dying for what we believe in, if we must. Here peace comes as we take up Jesus' cross. If we cannot be honest about that in the season of Lent as we move toward Good Friday and Easter, then it might be better for us to abandon our pilgrimage. Can you hear how different the two directions are, killing for what we believe in as opposed to dying for what we believe in? And do we reconcile these two too quickly and easily because we live in this powerful empire?
What does it mean to be the Church in a time of war? One thing it means is striking a note of humility. It means entertaining the possibility that we are acting in the wrong even as a military campaign proceeds smoothly and expeditiously. Should it give us much pause when most countries worldwide disagree with us?
Our homeland stands alone as the powerhouse among contemporary nations. Are there some incredibly dangerous temptations in this? Doubtless you know the proverb of Lord Acton: "Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely." Do we believe that we alone are the exception to this rule because we are so good? Can it be that dissenting lands have mixed motives when it comes to Iraq, but we do not? Do we believe that we alone are equal to facing down evil? But over the years have we not supported corrupt dictators because they smiled on USA interests in places like Cuba, Iran, Guatemala, Chile, Nicaragua, and Iraq?
The story of Jesus' temptation in the desert reminds us to be on guard against playing God. Could we become a law unto ourselves? Could we confuse might with right? Could we reach too far for a power not our own? Just last Sunday we talked about finding freedom, not restrictions, in living within our God given limits. "We can make ourselves whole," writes poet Wendell Berry, "only by accepting our partiality, by living within our limits, by being human, not by trying to be gods."
What does it mean to be the Church in a time of war? One thing I said about this on Wednesday night was to remember that this is not only wartime but also Lent. And Lent is a season of penitence, a time for individual and national repentance.
Clearly Saddam Hussein's regime oppresses and torments its citizenry, especially minorities. Clearly it represents a major threat to neighbors near and far. But whenever it is absolutely necessary to resort to violence, we still must repent for it. There is no room for triumphalism. Can we skip the orgies of nationalism right now, please? Killing some people for the sake of other people is always a devil's bargain-even if we must decide it is our only bargain. Killing certain victims now because there could be potential victims later is dicier still. Just war theory claims that even as we must resort to war, when we do, we must always repent. This is what the Eastern Orthodox Church teaches: even if war is the best choice among bad choices, it can never truly be just or pleasing to God.
What does it mean to be the Church after the Cold War? It may be coincidence, but I heard the phrase "under God" could be ruled unconstitutional and no longer useable in the Pledge of Allegiance. It might go the way of the commencement prayer, the crèche scene on the town green, and the Christmas carols in public schools. I accept that we are separate from a government done doing us favors. But having this distance enforced upon us, we should treat this as an opportunity to become a Christ-centered conscience in a country accountable only to itself, a nation badly in need of an independent authority beyond itself. At this point in history the American empire doesn't need the Church to rubber-stamp and bless whatever it was going to do anyway. At this point in history our beloved home-land needs us to act as though the USA is accountable to God, even if it would never respond to us in the way Theodosius subjected himself to Bishop Ambrose. Empires will always be empires; God calls us to abide as Christ's church.
The prophet Isaiah described heavenly counsels where no king or nation has any power before God. They are nothing but his instrument. "He delivers up nations to him, and tramples kings under foot; he makes them like dust with his sword, like driven stubble with his bow...Who has performed and done this, calling the generations from the beginning? I, the LORD, am first, and will be with the last."
That means our salt must not lose its saltness. For we bring a message different than mere survival and self-interest, a word that will go unspoken unless we pro-claim it. Our message is not hit before you are struck. It is "live in harmony with one another...do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."
Amen.
