Sunday, July 22, 2007

War

Of all the metaphors found in the Word of God, one of the most widespread and powerful images is that of war. I got a fresh taste of this metaphor yesterday because I visited the World War I museum downtown (it’s the only such monument to WWI in our nation, by the way). It was fascinating to see so many artifacts, films, and photographs from a time not so distant, but very differret than ours.

It struck me just how
confrontational things were.
While this may seem like a given when talking about a war, it's something that hit me as altogether different than our war today. So much of the propaganda in WWI was designed to make young men feel like the lowest of the low if they were not out there on the front lines. There was one poster that showed a woman and her child drowning with the word ENLIST plastered across the bottom - as if to send the message to some young man that he was personally responsible for their deaths by way of his inaction. Today, by contrast, it doesn't really matter if you support the troops or not. You are, of course, entitled to your opinion. Another WWI poster portrayed a german soldier as a crazed gorilla, ravaging towns and raping an innocent american woman. Today, we can't even call them "enemies" - they're insurgents. Essentially the american public is trying to have non-confrontational war. We can shoot them dead, but we can't call them names.

This tension of tolerance and war can only continue as our world gets smaller and smaller. Collisions of belief will happen more and more. Post-modernism and relitivism won't last much longer - and contrary to popular Christian thinking it won't be argued away with a quick-witted debate full of big names and hard evidence.

Ironically, it looks as if violence may turn out to be the answer. Tolerance is no match for man's depravity. Open-minded acceptance is no match for fear. "Self-Help Righteousness" devoid of God Himself will eventually self destruct and fall apart in bloody conflict.

War is not the glamorous picture we paint it to be. It's not a bunch of teenage guys reenacting scenes from Braveheart. It's mud and trenches and bullets ripping through you. It hurts and it costs. But somewhere in the midst of it, the Church will be beautiful. Love will disarm as Martyrs' blood cries out. The peacemakers will be called Blessed in that day.

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