
| Fr. Wertin's Peace Homily |
| Sunday, September 16th, 2001 |
It was only a month ago—on the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima– that I spoke on "Imagining Peace" from this altar. I said peace is "an enterprise of justice" that must be built over time—and how important it was to commit ourselves to peacemaking and non-violence at a time when we were not at war. And it was not too hard to talk about peace then.Today it is different. How things have changed! The events of recent days are like a giant jigsaw puzzle that seems impossible to put together. I struggle to see how they fit together—and why. It is like a mystery with many clues that only trickle out gradually, and it is not clear that we have all the pieces, or clues, yet. But each piece adds something—and it's not a simple puzzle to put together. However, it is a tragedy—and a tragedy that has struck home finally. We have to put it in perspective because terrorism has been going on for many peoples of the world for years. Ask someone who lives in Palestine, Iraq or Subsaharan Africa. Remember the bombing of the USS Cole? The attacks on our embassies in Africa? What was Oklahoma City, if not terrorism?
But now it has struck home, and it has roots in ancient enmities between Muslims and Christians, between East and West, between the rich and the poor and the festering resentments throughout the world. And they have all coalesced to the point that we can no longer ignore them.
But I also want to remind you that we must not let these attacks be blown out of proportion. Perhaps the rhetoric of World War III is giving this event too much importance. Maybe we have to put things in perspective. But it does give us pause...
Our initial response was one of fear, and that fear manifested itself as anger. And that anger unleashed for many people a wish for revenge and retaliation. You know: "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth…" I appreciated the words of Archbishop Flynn at one of the services at St. Paul Cathedral where he counseled, "We must seek justice, but, at the same time, we cannot seek any hint of vengeance." We must applaud those words and make them our own: we cannot seek any hint of vengeance.
But among those initial responses the best one was that we came together. People came together here at St. Joan's on Tuesday evening and overflowed the church. And in many other churches and mosques and synagogues people converged. People prayed in neighborhoods, and parents prayed with their children. Yes, let's be very gentle with the children. Let us not lie to them, but let them recognize the reality of living in this harsh world. But let us also be there to comfort and reassure, and let them know we can come through this together.
Terrorism is a different form of violence. Maybe that is why it has not appeared sufficiently on our radar screens. It's anonymous and powerfully effective. It strikes by surprise. And we hear those awful words "the Islamic terrorists." If these people were blue-eyed and Nordic would we call them "Christian terrorists?" I don't think so. But we don't always love our sisters and brothers when they look differently, believe differently, than we. We risk vilifying whole peoples in the name of a few. And when the attack is upon us, we are in danger of saying we are all good and they are all bad. And we have become preoccupied with security. And wouldn't it be a tragedy if we let these terrorists paralyze our whole nation and cripple us from moving about in doing the things that need doing and reaching out in sharing and caring—and loving and doing the business of our lives?
We must move on from our initial response, and we are called to non-violence. We are called to a non-violent response to violence. We are called to non-violence because it is rooted in the Gospel—and in other great traditions as well. Ghandi got it right when he said, " The only people who don't think Jesus was non-violent are Christians."
We have to recommit ourselves to the Gospel today. And, please, do not think that we must not resist evil. We have to resist evil. We have to find alternatives, but somehow we have it hard-wired in our heads that a military solution—a war solution—is the only response. We can be more resourceful than that. We can be more peace loving than that. Anthony DeMello says it so well. He says, "The three most difficult things for a human being are not physical feats or intellectual achievements. They are, first, returning love for hate. Second, including the excluded. And third, admitting that you are wrong." I think we have to do all three in the process of responding to what is going on.
But do remember that good can come from evil. Thich Nhat Hanh tells us that—if we can see the pain around us in the world, and if we stop ignoring it and keep on going about business as usual, if we see that peace is not found in wealth or in power, but in being centered in our God—something good can come out of this.
We have already seen acts of compassion—the fireman, the rescuers, the blood donors, people throughout our nation who have found ways to support, to be renewed and to give hope.
Maybe this is not the beginning of World War III, but it is certainly a wake up call from complacency. And we have to ask ourselves—because we cannot change anybody else—who we are. What do we stand for? Why does so much of the world hate us—especially peoples in the developing nations? Is there economic oppression that we are blind to—oppression we are actually perpetuating?
Let's step back. Let's take some patience here and catch our breath. Let's step back and gain some perspective. Let's consult with our allies. Let's talk with the Russians and Chinese. Let's talk with the people of Muslim countries. Ask them what we should do, and how they will support us. We have to do more than legislate that we are willing to spend $40 billion for a military solution. We need the long-term resolutions that require patience rooted in justice and compassion.
And so we are at a crossroads, and that is not all bad. But how we respond is critical. We must break the cycle of violence and fear. And we must recommit ourselves to showing love in the face of hate. And, above all, we must resist the temptation to seek a quick and violent solution. If we were to attack Afghanistan tomorrow and devastate an already impoverished nation simply to excise one terrorist, or one cell of terrorists, we would simply compound the suffering and the evil. We have to put things in perspective and seek solidarity with other peoples of this world. Right now so much is in the hands of our government, and it is important for us to contact our congressional delegation and the President to let them know what kind of response we expect to see our nation pursue. We have the capacity to influence our government and let them know that saber rattling and war making are not the only solutions.
Here at St. Joan of Arc we are already committed to being a peace church and exploring what that means all this year. (It's one of the Parish Council goals for the parish this year.) We didn't know what a right track we were on when we chose that goal a few months ago. But we also have to look at the bigger picture and recommit ourselves to bring healing and justice to a society that feeds on violence.
And so as we walk arm in arm together, let us be a people of prayer, peace and patience. Let us make non-violence our password.
And I just want to conclude with the wonderful passage of Martin Luther King Jr. that I quoted a few weeks ago when I was speaking of the horrors of the message of the KKK when they visited our State Capitol, because it has just as much application here. Martin Luther King said quite simply, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hatred cannot drive out hated, only love can do that."
Peace be with you.
George P. Wertin