Torture: Simply Wrong

15 05 2009

As a child I heard about the evils of Communism. I heard about gulags and Stalin. I heard about Khruschev and godlessness. I heard about torture. As got older, and was able to read for myself, I read about first-hand experiences of people who were tortured for their faith.

I remember reading about people being forced to endure temperature extremes, sleep deprivation, beatings, and violence as others attempted to get information out of them. I wondered how people could treat other people so inhumanely. How could a difference of ideas be so misconstrued as to constitute justification for that kind of evil?

Then came the Vietnam War and people from my town were POWS and endured horrible tortures. “Why?” I wondered. “Why do people treat each other like that?”As I matured I learned to feel pride that my country did not engage in those kinds of behaviors.

The “Soviets” were concerned with keeping their society safe from the myths of religion and political ideas that threatened their norm. The Vietnamese were under attack from our forces and used that as a justification for their mistreatment of our soldiers. Both societies were concerned about protecting their way of life. But even as a teenager none of the reasons I heard made enough sense to me as to justify torture and beatings (as an aside, killing people in general does not make much sense to me).

Now I hear people from my government, and my society, using the same kind of rhetoric to justify “enhanced interrogation” techniques. Good, well-meaning people proudly proclaim, “If just one American life is saved it is worth it.” This is not the head in the sand “we didn’t know what was happening” situation the world encountered after WWII. No! We know what was going on. We have pictures of the degrading treatment in Abu Ghraib. And I seriously doubt that such behaviors only happened in that one prison.

We know that people were being water boarded, an activity that has always been considered torture. A Texas sheriff deputy was prosecuted by Ronald Reagan’s Department of Justice for water boarding prisoners in an attempt to get information. But now we have voices at the highest levels of government saying they are not sure if water boarding meets the legal definition of torture since a doctor was always in the room. Now, since it is to protect our way of life, things that once were considered torture by most everyone, are suddenly not so clear.

I am reminded of our erstwhile president’s statement, “It depends on what the meaning of “is” is.” Redefining “is” caused outrage, and justifiably so. Redefining “torture” seems much more palatable to some of those who were aghast at President Clinton’s “is” fiasco. In my opinion both redefinitions are nothing more than attempts to hide from the truth.

Torture is simply wrong. While I do not want our country attacked, and I do not want American lives lost; I do not believe that safety is worth losing our collective soul. It is wrong to engage in the kinds of behaviors our constitution and the Geneva Convention condemn. It is wrong to adopt methods of treating others, even those considered our enemies, that constitute torture.

Please. Not in my country and not in my name.

Peace,

Leon





Joyous Music and Bloody Occasions

28 02 2009

Last evening my family went to my daughter’s high school pops concert. I was impressed with the quality of the music. The jazz band was amazing, the string orchestra rich and lush, the brass was polished (both literally and musically), there several choirs; overall it was a great concert!

The theme for the concert was Americana. We heard everything from rock and roll and Scott Joplin to some Walt Whitman stuff set to music. It was a high quality production with vocalists, projected images, recitations, and all around great music.

A major part of Americana is the military side of things. Let the record show that the stirring, martial music of all branches of our military was present and accounted for. It was moving to see old men, long retired from this or that branch of the military, be honored for their years of service. Each stood as the song from their branch of the service was played.

However, it was also quite jarring to hear the happy, dignified strains of the songs honoring those who served, while watching images of tanks, helicopters, and F-18s at war. Somehow the honor and dignity conveyed in the songs seemed darkened and sullied by the reality (projected images) of what war actually does to people; both those who must fight and those who are killed.

Nowhere in those spirited songs did anyone get the sense of how many service men and women have committed suicide after they returned home and were not able to re-integrate the horrors of their experience back into society. Nothing in the music reflected on my friend with PTSD (and thousands like him) who, after Vietnam, wonders through life destroying relationship after relationship with his explosive outbursts, and also missing from the music was the precious little help he  did not received from the VA hospitals. The uplifting melodies did not reflect the increase in broken families and failed marriages that come with war. And finally, nowhere in the stirring music is one moved to think about the tally…you know, how many people did that tank crew have to kill? How many bombs did that sleek, beautiful F-18 drop, and on whom? And the kindly older gentleman who stood three rows back as the Marine Hymn was being played; what scars, emotional or otherwise, does he carry as a result of his participation?

My mind was filled with these musings. Was I the only one present who had these thoughts. Did anyone else wonder at the juxtaposition of amazing music and weapons of destruction, designed only to kill and maim the nameless enemies. Am I strange to think that somehow Jesus our Lord, shakes his head and sighs at the inability of humanity to get along? Am I nuts? Everyone else seemed to be fully at home and not giving the beautiful music paired with the violent images a second thought. Did the music somehow serve to sanitize reality? I left the concert deep in thought.

As we left my son summed it all up when he offered this unsolicited comment. “That sure was some joyous music for such a bloody occasion.” Ok. No blood was spilled at the concert. But he gets it! He understood the message and saw that it was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. He understood that no amount of violins, brass, flutes, and kettle drums; or stirring, emotional music, can erase the violence of war or make it better.

Joyous music and bloody occasions…makes you think don’t it?

Peace,

Leon





Bless my Enemies

4 08 2008

Every now and then I reflect on the difficult times in my life. Ok. I’ll be honest. There are times when I obsess on how people have hurt me, or those I love. We say it is natural to feel anger or respond with less than charitable feelings. And yet I am coming to believe that when we are most human, we are most clearly reflecting the glory of God.

I recently read about the stoning of Stephen. As he was dying he implored God to not count his own murder as sin. I do not possess that purity of spirit. It humbles me to realize how far I am from what God intends for my life to be. Thus the prayer below from St. Nikolai, the author of the Prayers by the Lake. This man understood the depth of humanity, but also had a glimpse of the beauty of God at work within his life. This prayer gives expression to who I desire to be…someday.  Lord have mercy.

A Prayer of St. Nikolai of Ochrid

Lord, Bless My Enemies

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Enemies have driven me into Thy embrace more than friends have. Friends have bound me to earth, enemies have loosed me from earth and have demolished all my aspirations in the world.Enemies have made me a stranger in worldly realms and an extraneous inhabitant of the world. Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath Thy tabernacle, where neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

They, rather than I, have confessed my sins before the world. They have punished me, whenever I have hesitated to punish myself. They have tormented me, whenever I have tried to flee torments. They have scolded me, whenever I have flattered myself They have spat upon me, whenever I have filled myself with arrogance.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Whenever I have made myself wise, they have called me foolish. Whenever I have made myself mighty, they have mocked me as though I were a dwarf. Whenever I have wanted to lead people, they have shoved me into the background. Whenever I have rushed to enrich myself, they have prevented me with an iron hand. Whenever I thought that I would sleep peacefully, they have wakened me from sleep. Whenever I have tried to build a home for a long and tranquil life, they have demolished it and driven me out. Truly, enemies have cut me loose from the world and have stretched out my hands to the hem of Thy garment.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Bless them and multiply them; multiply them and make them even more bitterly against me: so that my fleeing to Thee may have no return; so that all hope in men may be scattered like cobwebs; so that absolute serenity may begin to reign in my soul; so that my heart may become the grave of my two evil twins: arrogance and anger; so that I might amass all my treasure in heaven; ah, so that I may for once be freed from self deception, which has entangled me in the dreadful web of illusory life.

Enemies have taught me to know what hardly anyone knows, that a person has no enemies in the world except himself. One hates his enemies only when he fails to realize that they are not enemies, but cruel friends. It is truly difficult for me to say who has done me more good and who has done me more evil in the world: friends or enemies.

Therefore bless, O Lord, both my friends and my enemies.

A slave curses enemies, for he does not understand.But a son blesses them, for he understands. For a son knows that his enemies cannot touch his life. Therefore he freely steps among them and prays to God for them.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Amen