“We are not at peace with others because we are not at peace with ourselves, and we are not at peace with ourselves because we are not at peace with God.” – Thomas Merton
I first discovered and came to appreciate this short work by Mark Twain during my freshman year in college (way back in the dark ages of 1979-1980). I wrote a paper on it then (for which I received an excellent grade) and over the years I have reread The War Prayer many times, especially during periods of crisis or war. If you are not familiar with it, I urge you to read it for the first time. If you have read it, reread it with one ear and eye attuned to our current situation. As an aside, Twain refused to have The War Prayer published during his lifetime, feeling that it was just too provocative. It is said that in the instructions that came with the manuscript Twain wrote, “I have told the truth in that… and only dead men can tell the truth in this world.”
The War Prayer
by Mark Twain
It was a time of great exulting and excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and sputtering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest depths of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles, beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast doubt upon its righteousness straight way got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety’s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came – next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams – visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! – then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation:
“God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest, Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!”
Then came the “long” prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory – An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher’s side and stood there, waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, “Bless our arms, grant us victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!”
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside – which the startled minister did – and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
“I come from the Throne – bearing a message from Almighty God!” The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. “He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import – that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of – except he pause and think.
“God’s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two – one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this – keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor’s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
“You have heard your servant’s prayer – the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it – that part which the pastor – and also you in your hearts – fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: ‘Grant us victory, O Lord our God!’ That is sufficient. The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory – must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God the Father fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
“O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle – be Thou near them! With them – in spirit – we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with hurricanes of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it – for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.”
[After a pause.] “Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits.”
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.
Today’s post is about the seeming bent of humankind towards its own destruction. I just finished watching the movie War Games with my 13-year old daughter, Desiree. She had never seen the film before, and since it was playing on cable, I thought I’d introduce her to a movie that I first came to know and love while in college (the dark ages of the 1980s).
War Games was made and released during the height of the nuclear disarmament movement (1983). Starring Mathew Broderick in his second film role, War Games, for those of you who don’t know, is the story of how Broderick’s character almost, albeit innocently, starts World War III by hacking into the Defense Department’s system to play a computer game. The computer initiates a countdown to launch nuclear weapons, which is only stopped when it “learns” that global thermonuclear war is a game that is ultimately unwinnable. I know that I am a big old softee, but the ending of the movie always brings tears to my eyes when the computer announces: “A strange game. The only winning move is not to play.”
As I watched the film, recent wars and conflicts came to my mind — the recent Israel-Hezbollah game/conflict in Lebanon being one of them. In the case of this event, there are few innocent parties. Hezbollah deserves condemnation for their strategy of launching rockets from Lebanese civilian neighborhoods into Israeli civilian neighborhoods, Israel should be castigated for bombing Lebanese civilian targets, and the citizens of both Lebanon and Israel deserve some blame for their current situations given their support of governments which promote policies that led to the last flare-up in this continual conflict. Of course, the children who were killed or maimed by missile strikes and other military interventions have the most valid claim to innocence, but it is clear that none of the parties involved in the latest round of hostilities gave the children much thought at all when devising their military strategies. And as was the case in the film War Games, there were no winners in this last conflict, regardless of the various claims being made.
The military/civilian/death toll ratio in this latest round was astounding. The newest stats I could find stated that there were around 300 military deaths on both sides versus over 1200 civilian deaths, more than 1100 of whom were Lebanon’s (a ratio of 1 to 4). Of course this ratio is similar to or pales in comparison to the military/civilian ratio in Iraq depending upon whom you believe. There have been over 10,000 military deaths (63 % Iraqi), but at least 40,000 civilian deaths, with some estimates running as high as 100,000. And regardless of which figure you accept as accurate, the number of civilian deaths in Iraq continues to mount. More than 110 Iraqis were killed per day in July, with at 3,438 civilians dying violently last month.
I bring all of this up just to say this: humankind’s desire for destruction knows no bounds. After many millenia of existence, we still haven’t figured out a simple truth – war seldom if ever settles anything. It just begets more hatred and more war and more death. And in the case of most wars, “the only winning move is not to play.”