As you probably know by now, I am not shy
about changing my announced sermon topic. I do so when local, national or
international issues dominate our thoughts, and sometimes even take a grip
on our souls. This morning I was planning to preach a sermon on love. Instead,
sadly but with a sense that it is absolutely the right thing to do, I shall
be preaching on war.
We are on the cusp of a second war with Iraq. We both won and lost the first
war, an emotional victory very popular in this country and even around the
world, yet with no real resolution, which brings us back to square one,
ready to try again. Let me tell you from the outset, I am as ambivalent
about the prospects of a second war with Iraq as I have ever been about
a major national issue. This means to promise those of you who are not ambivalent,
to those of you who are either sure that we should bomb Iraq or sure that
we should let diplomacy take its course, no matter how wayward, I can promise
you will not be pleased with my sermon.
I promise you also, neither am I, at not fully comfortable with it. Though
I have little use for 100 per centers, people who know that they are right,
I am just as wary of fence sitters, people so afraid to take action, people
afraid that they may be wrong that they never risk being right. In most
cases I am a true-blue died in the wool 60 per center. With 60 per cent
assurance and 40 per cent doubts I act. I try to act in a way that gives
allowance for my being wrong, but I act nonetheless. Not surprisingly, on
average, with 20-20 hindsight, about 60% of the time I am glad that I did
or said or believed what I thought at the time was in balance right; about
40% I am not. Still, unless we are to become permanent bystanders, waiting
for others to act and then joining in the applause or opprobrium when the
play is over, the 60% solution is far better than the 50% cop out.
The problem is, when it comes to 50-50, or 52-48, the fence does look pretty
good. So this morning I shall be preaching to myself as much as you. To
move from the fence, I'm going to try to set up a new frame for us to view
this picture in, offering in fact not one but two frames for us to consider,
first, the limits to tolerance, second, the just war theory.
Lord Acton once said that every institution perishes by an excess of its
own first principle. The three first principles of liberal religion are
freedom, reason and tolerance. So this morning let me first consider the
dangers of an excess of tolerance.
Literally speaking, to tolerate means to abide with repugnance. This can
be a virtue when we are talking about our great aunt's politics or an occasional
and therefore not particularly important lapse in our children's table manners.
It can also be a virtue when we choose not to condemn, only to disapprove
of one, another's private foibles. Without a degree of tolerance we would
all become intolerable, rife with judgment, incapable of forgiveness, driven
by a dangerous and often self-delusional sense of superiority.
So defined, even at its best tolerance remains a relatively weak virtue.
And at its worst tolerance is not a virtue but a vice. This can happen in
two ways. First, tolerance can become a self-congratulatory cover for condescension.
For instance, if we merely tolerate another's religion or sexual preference,
we tend to fall short of the higher call to mutual respect. If I tolerate
you often I am putting up with you. I am looking down at you while acting
in a high-minded manner. This is an invitation less to righteousness than
to self-righteousness. Colonialists tolerated their subjects. By like measure,
we must check ourselves when we are tempted only to tolerate those who are
different from us rather than working better to understand and respect them.
Second, and apropos of today's sermon, if to tolerate means, in certain
instances at least, to abide with repugnance, there are some things too
repugnant to abide. The question becomes "Should we continue, by our
inaction, or relatively passive action, to tolerate Saddam Hussein and his
behavior?" Should we look the other way while he plays cat and mouse
with a token band of UN inspectors? Should we continue to posture ineffectively
on the international stage, while he moves his deadly stockpiles and laboratories
from one safe house to another, or should we take drastic and decisive action
against him?
I am a great supporter of the United Nations, but I believe that the UN
is almost certain to prove ineffective as a watchdog to Saddam Hussein's
deadly chemists and biologists. I won't be in the least surprised if the
Secretary General returns from Iraq declaring victory in a negotiation that
he in fact has lost. This will further isolate the United States in the
court of world opinion. We then must ask ourselves, should that alone preclude
us from taking military action? I think not. Saddam Hussein is a cancer
in the world's body politic. But the question still remains, by taking action,
even extreme action, will we shut him down or only cause just enough havoc
to hurt the Iraqi people even further while inviting the world's condemnation?
This is the first source of my ambivalence, the limits of tolerance. When
it comes to Saddam Hussein tolerance is not a virtue, but a vice. The same
goes for a commitment to peace at all costs. Sometimes the cost of maintaining
short term peace is paid later in a greater, more devastating war. Here
I agree with my former All Souls colleague and now UUA president, John Buehrens.
I think he was brave and right to send his letter to our congregations,
because I know, should war erupt in the Middle East, many of our churches
will be central clearing houses for the inevitable anti-war protest movement
that was hinted at last week in public meetings held by cabinet members
around the country. Still, with the war drums sounding in Washington, I
remain ambivalent about the efficacy and rightness of a military strike
against Iraq, even should Hussein's actions continue, as I trust they will,
to warrant retribution.
The second source of my ambivalence is grounded in ancient Catholic doctrine,
the just war theory. According to Catholic teaching, for a war to be just,
three factors come into play. One must have justifiable cause; proportional
means; and achievable ends. In the case of Iraq, I believe that one can
argue persuasively for justifiable cause. The problem arises in the other
two areas. With respect to proportional means, for a war to be deemed just,
every effort possible must be made to preclude overkill. In this case, with
the target so variable and opaque, overkill is almost inevitable. If thousands
of civilians are killed, the biological and chemical weapons factories by
and large untouched, and Saddam still in power, history will judge the United
States, and all who supported armed retribution against Saddam Hussein,
poorly. As for achievable ends, I have been listening carefully but have
yet to hear anyone in the administration persuasively claim that this war,
however well-intentioned, will accomplish our aims in the region. So, for
me at least, according to the just war theory, only one of the three pillars
to support attacking Iraq remains standing. If the means of our redressing
this problem are likely to lead to overkill and the ends almost surely unassured,
it can fairly be argued that a just cause alone is not sufficient cause
to act.
The third source of my ambivalence has to do with American foreign policy
in general, or, more precisely, the apparent lack of any coherence to our
present foreign policy. A number of the questions asked by citizens at the
town meeting in Ohio this past week were spot on. If we are going to be
the world's policeman what are the criteria used to select which arenas
we are going to police? Which crimes do we overlook? Which do we punish?
In the case of Iraq, why were we so passive three years ago when Saddam
Hussein was perpetrating genocide against the Kurds, employing the same
biological weapons we now are targeting as justification for a blanket bombing
campaign that will only multiply the loss of life in Iraq? The truth is
that neither this administration nor the leaders of congress have presented
to the American people even the semblance of a coherent foreign policy.
This makes any policing action we may take around the world seem arbitrary,
however justified our cause for concern. Without a much clearer statement
of overriding purpose and policy than the administration or the hawks in
congress have yet to offer, my guess is that the American people will be
badly and rightly divided should we take military action against Iraq at
this time. Such division will weaken our country both at home and abroad.
One should not avoid decisive action only because it promises to be unpopular.
On the other hand, our leaders owe it to us and to themselves to make a
much better case both for this specific action and for the way it relates
to the implementation of our larger foreign and military policy.
So where do I end up. I guess I end up here. Though still ambivalent --
an active word, by the way, one that means the opposite of not caring, that
is to say, feeling strongly in two directions -- I hope, in fact I fervently
pray, at least for the time being, that we do not bomb Iraq. I see far more
ill than good resulting from such an action.
But if we do attack, though reluctantly, I shall support the President and
the Congress in their decision. Members of this church who choose to meet
here to oppose the war are welcome to do so. A good 48% of my being will
be there in spirit with you. But I will also make clear my opinion that
this is one case where we are not the Evil Empire. If our leaders decide
that the only appropriate response to Saddam's manipulation and potential
terror-mongering is an armed strike, at least initially I shall, as an American
citizen, support that position. Am I comfortable with this? Frankly, no.
Could my mind change? Of course it could. I'll climb right back up here
and tell you I was wrong. You could accuse me of wanting to have it both
ways. Believe me, I would rather choose one way or the other. I would far
rather be sure that I was right and, should you happen to disagree with
me, that you were therefore wrong. But on this one, I just can't. I can't
subscribe to a war that promises so little gain. And yet, should war break
out, I shall resist any suggestion that we are more responsible for Iraqi
casualties than Saddam Hussein is. I would not want anyone to mistake my
ambivalence for the kind of sloppy thinking, even sloppy ethics, that leads
to the conclusion that anyone who uses fire in an attempt to put out a fire
is therefore an arsonist.
We are not the bully here. Saddam Hussein is. If you hit back at a bully
you are not a bully. And yet, from a distance at least, you may look like
a bully; you may even break your hand. Which are two of the reasons I hope
against hope that the UN mission will be successful. If not, I then hope
that we will find some other way, short of armed measures, to step up the
pressure against Saddam Hussein, not to save face, but to subvert his demonstrated
desire to hold both the world and his own people hostage to his tyrannical
ego and his instruments of destruction. I also hope that our leaders will
take this opportunity more clearly to articulate the basic principles that
inform our larger foreign policy. All things considered, I fear that we
will make things worse, not better, if we go to war against Saddam Hussein,
at least right now.
In closing let me say this. If you differ with me, as those of you who feel
strongly one way or another surely will, my ambivalence, I hope, will help
me -- in both directions -- to respect, not simply tolerate, your opinions.
By the same token, I would ask you to respect one another. The next few
weeks promise to be a difficult time for our nation and our world. The least
we can do to make it a little less difficult is to treat one another with
a measure of civility and mutual respect. Amen. I love you. And God bless. Copyright
AllSouls 1998