Last week, hundreds of American soldiers across every branch of the military filed complaints. They reported that their commanders had instructed them that our country’s attack on Iran is part of God’s plan to help fulfill scriptural prophecies and bring about the end of the world.
I feel like it’s worth stopping here to say I am not making this up. I am not exaggerating or misconstruing. This is not fake news. It is a plain statement of easily verifiable facts. Much or our military leadership – including our current Secretary of Defense – are Christian Nationalists who believe that this war on Iran is a crusade – a holy war that is ordained by God and referred to in Christian Scriptures.
There are many things about which I am not an expert. I am not, for instance a constitutional scholar – so I am probably not the best person to decide if our military action undertaken without consent of Congress is constitutional. I am not an environmental scientist or physician – so I am not qualified to speak on how our destruction of oil facilities in the middle of heavily populated civilian areas will affect the health of Iranian citizens now and for years to come. I am not an intelligence analyst – so I do not have the qualifications to understand what gross errors led us to bomb a school, killing dozens of children, and lie about it.
It turns out, though, that I do have some knowledge of Christian Scriptures, some expertise on the life and teachings of Jesus, and some experience of interpreting and communicating Christian principles and values.
So let’s start from the beginning: There is no such thing as a holy war. War isn’t holy. Ever. The best, most justifiable, most reasonable seeming war, signals an utter failure to obey the God who commands us to love our neighbor as our self. Even if we come to a place where we find it necessary to use violence against another people, we cannot pretend at being righteous agents of holy justice. At best, in the most generous of interpretations, we are imperfect beings choosing the lesser of two evil paths. Bloodlust is not Christian. Reveling in violence is not Christian. Excitedly embracing war is not consistent with Jesus Christ – who on the night he was arrested admonished his followers that the one who lives by the sword dies by the sword.
I grew up watching the TV show M*A*S*H. I was a child and did not understand the broader implications of what was the most popular show of its time, a show whose run lasted several years longer than the war in which it was set. I did not understand, for instance, that M*A*S*H was so popular in large part because it insisted on the humanization of every character on the screen. There were no heroes or villains – just people trying to be people in the midst of death, destruction, and uncertainty. Mostly it just made me laugh.
But I do remember one episode where, in the midst of witnessing an emergency surgery on a war victim, the base chaplain exclaimed, “War is Hell!” which of course we’ve all heard before. What I hadn’t heard before was the response of one of the show’s protagonists – nicknamed Hawkeye. Hawkeye immediately replied, “War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.” When the chaplain asked how that could be, Hawkeye told him it was simple: “There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chock full of them — little kids, the disabled, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander.”
There is nothing holy about war. We do not glorify God when we carpet bomb Tehran. Even if this war were “necessary” – which we all know it is not – we would not be agents of God. Our Christian duty at this time includes shuddering at the human cost of our actions, mourning our inability to choose diplomacy, and working for real peace for as many people possible as quickly as possible.
Our actions in Iran are not foretold in the biblical book of Revelation. This is a gross misinterpretation of Scriptures that has sprung from a faulty doctrine that originated just over 100 years ago. It has no connection to historic Christian beliefs, or the teachings of Jesus. The Book of Revelation is not a literal prediction of the end of the world. It was a coded critique of the audience’s contemporary culture and a message of hope meant to remind socially powerless members of a marginalized religious group that God had not forgotten them, that love and justice would prevail – even if it didn’t seem like that was possible.
The violence in Revelation is a prophetic statement about a culture that depends upon, indulges in, and celebrates violence as a way to achieve so-called peace. That we would interpret this text as an endorsement of our violent acts upon others in Jesus’ name is the baldest irony.
Have you ever heard the phrase “death cult”? It is used to describe a fringe religious group that is obsessed with and glorifies death. A Christianity that salivates at the possibility of ushering in the end of the world is a death cult. And Christianity was not meant to be a death cult. It has been perverted by some in various ways over the years in order to be understood and practiced as such – but that was never Jesus’ plan, never part of his teachings, and not the desire of his first followers. Exalting in violence and death is not of Christ. Period.
The most solemn day in the Christian calendar is the observance of Jesus’ death. We call it Good Friday – a name that is intentionally ironic. On this day, we do not exalt or celebrate death. Rather, we bear witness to the goodness and faithfulness of God embodied in Jesus. Jesus does not love us so much that he kills for us. No, Jesus loves us to the point of being willing himself to die. The God who loves us and bears with us and cares for us even at our worst – that is what we honor on Good Friday. We do not celebrate death and violence: We grieve them – especially the death and violence within our own hearts and lives. We grieve the cost of our worship of violence. And we call that awful day Good because in the fullness of our frailty we see the fullness of God’s faithfulness. We see the God who redeems the irredeemable, we remember our own frailty, our own irredeemable moments and ways, we marvel at a love that can hold us even then. And we call that Good.
This new crusade is no holy war. Celebrating this destruction is akin to cheering on Jesus’ executioners.
While Jesus was being murdered, he prayed that God would forgive his murderers. His reasoning? He told God, “They don’t know what they are doing.” May God forgive us for the evil we are perpetrating. May we be so fortunate as to hear Jesus’ plea: They don’t know what they’re doing.
