I've been troubled, of late, about what feels contradictory and confusing impulses. First, some preface: I'm currently reading Savoj Źiźek's Violence: Big Ideas/Small Book. It is fascinating, deep, and really easy to read (an absolute must for me, as my brain has atrophied more than I care to admit). It contains myriad comments about how we perceive violence, particularly the concept of the symbolism of it. I'm reading it not just for pleasure, but as another useful source for my long-delayed video game analysis. It will often wander down other theoretical and philosophical paths (with more than one unintentionally humorous rant against liberal communists who, from his point of view, simply aren't liberal--or communist--enough), so it's hard to really pin it down well. Nevertheless, it's getting me thinking about violence in general, and war in specific. That's what leads me to this post: War.
My class has been slogging through the first half of the twentieth century, a time of catastrophic loss of human life. Before the commencement of the 1950s, upwards of 100-200 million people died due to World Wars, Holocausts, genocides, and disease. While the last on that list was probably worsened because of the violence (if some scholars' theses are to be believed, the Spanish influenza that ravaged Europe was greatly exacerbated by the trench warfare of the Great War; others aren't so sure), the quantity of dead is simply staggering. The tension and additional conflicts that make the twentieth century the Century of War will also be explored with my students, but, quite frankly, it's depressing to see, teach, and read about so much death with what we have so far. In fact, I've been a bit grumpier than usual, feeling despondent, depressed, and disgusted with life as I've been wallowing in the enormity (and I mean that in its traditional sense) of what 'civilization' has wrought.
Couple with that tonight's scripture reading with Peter. We're going through the Illustrated Stories of the Book of Mormon right now; this particular part includes "the War Chapters". B.C. Moroni, described as being of such righteous stature that his faith, acquired by all men, would shake the foundation of hell, invests himself quite heavily in the business of bloodshed. His cause is noble: Protection of liberty, freedom (why are those always spoken of as separate?), religion, and families. I do not doubt that those things have to be defended, and that there is much in this world that would see those things quashed. Yet I'm hesitant to extol him as I once did--not for his righteousness, but for his choice of occupation. The fact is, the violence in the Book of Mormon--and, to a much greater extent, the Old Testament--stand very strongly in contrast to what (for me) is the most difficult, deep, and distressing of doctrines that Christ taught: To turn the other cheek. Christ also said that those who take up a sword will perish by it (see Matthew 26:52), which is the best argument I could think of for not owning a gun.
Here's my worry: Sometimes I feel like, when it comes to the heavy doctrines of the kingdom, people get more concerned about irrelevant details than some of the more important things. I can't help but think that a God who came down to die for all of mankind--and, while here, ordered us to be like Him--really smiles upon seeing us getting ready to murder to protect our families.
Maybe it's a broader scope that I'm looking through, one that doesn't allow for the fine gradations of an extreme close-up, but I get the feeling that the parable of the Good Samaritan is not just about the person whose car breaks down on the side of the road, but involves the avoidance of all those ills which would put the traveler in harm's way in the first place. To say it better, I feel that if we are to say, "We fight to protect our families," we have to realize that God's family includes everyone, even the belligerents--jihadis, Nazis, and oppressors of all kinds.
This is hard doctrine, and I'm not sure that I'm interpreting it correctly. The Book of Mormon teaches that Moroni stood up against his oppressors--yet it is the Anti-Nephi-Lehies who are most impressive, the most noble, the ones whose actions actually turn the hearts of their enemies to the Lord. Moroni's violence does not convert, though it does protect the Nephites. So I'm getting contradictory messages, here. Hence comes the great paralyzing analysis of Rage Against the Machine: We are supposed to protect our families and teach them what's right, but to do that, one must harm other children of God; that is, "Rally 'round the family/With a pocket full of shells." Isn't this the "We don't hit!" lesson, emphasized with a spanking?
"But," some may say, "what of those patent evils, those depraved dictators and manipulators of emotion--the demagogues and ideologues and the despots who will take away the right to worship? Shouldn't they be stood up to?"
Gandhi would say, "Stand up to, yes. Fight against, no." Violence was how Hitler got his way, but Gandhi believed differently. As he says in the film, his form of non-violence would be painful and create great losses--but isn't there already pain and great loss? That, to me, is the crux of this issue. One can point to Jesus' purging of the temple and say that that justifies violence. (I would point to that part and say that the only time Jesus got mad enough to resort to violence was when He saw the abuse of the poor by the rich, done not only to get gain but also to exploit the religion of the poor, thus excising those in power--and those with capital.) But hermeneutics aside, Jesus preached peace on earth and goodwill toward men. He asked us to treat others how we wished to be treated. He healed the man whom Peter, in his zealous haste, smote, to say nothing of the forgiveness He proffered the Roman soldiers as He hanged on the cross.
So there's my problem. There's the issue that I have. I'm not saying this is necessarily a political thing, but I can't help but feel a distinct bloodthirstiness from the political right when it comes to war. This is as much at home ("I'll shoot anyone who comes near my property (which is not a Constitutional right) so keep your hands off my God-given guns!") as it is with our foreign policy ("WMDs in Iraq! Er, I mean, spread democracy in Iraq! Topple a dictator!" and "We have to pick and choose which fights we get into, and we have to protect the Libyan people!"). If we are a Christian nation, shouldn't we have turned the other cheek after 9/11? If we are a Christian nation, shouldn't we be more focused on spreading the love of God to all, rather than prosecuting three (THREE!) wars? How is it that we can claim discipleship to the Prince of Peace when within we are all discord and woe? How does violence plus violence equal peace? I can't understand this mode of thought, and my frustration at my own inability to comprehend it is amping up to a greater and greater pitch inside of me.
I look at what happened in Europe from '39-'45 and think, "Thank God for the men and women who did so much to stop that insanity." But, at the same time...how can I stand behind what God has condemned? He has specifically stated that "Thou shall not kill." It can't be much more patent than that. So what's a good Christian to do when killing is all that's ever supposed to be done? How does one square the circle of killing in the name of God when God has said not to do that. Can one have extramarital sex in the name of God and justify that? Can one steal in the name of God and still obtain salvation?
The A-Bomb
Additionally, I can't help but feel that there's something wrong with making an exception of wholesale violence on the magnitude of the nuking of Japan. Oh, I've heard the claims and rationales, that "they started it" and "people were dying anyway from other bombing runs" and "the Japanese forces were committed to winning at any cost" and "we're saving American lives." Just war theory states that there must be proportion to a conflict for it to maintain its justice (a theory that might work if one doesn't deal in the absolutes of Christianity). How can you have a proportionate response to being nuked when the only country on the planet who has them is the one dropping them? (This is laying aside the very high likelihood that Truman wanted the bombs dropped in order to cow the Red Army with America's superior weaponry.) Further: Wasn't part of the moral redemption of World War II found in the liberation of the concentration camps that the Nazis had built? The deaths of millions of Allied men occurred in order to liberate Europe. In the process, millions of Jews (and other marginalized segments of society) were saved from violence. How can we justify the hypocrisy of detonating 300,000 people--an enormous number of whom were innocent civilians--with the most atrocious weapon every used in the history of the Earth, while simultaneously singing the praises of the men who saved so many innocent victims at the concentration camps?
For a long time, war didn't bother me. Now, however, I see it in a different light. And I don't know if I can--or should--go back to my old point of view.
Note: I apologize for the tone of this post. It's much more impassioned than usual, much more emotional. It's also less thoughtfully written, forged instead in a hot fire of spontaneous response to my thoughts.
My class has been slogging through the first half of the twentieth century, a time of catastrophic loss of human life. Before the commencement of the 1950s, upwards of 100-200 million people died due to World Wars, Holocausts, genocides, and disease. While the last on that list was probably worsened because of the violence (if some scholars' theses are to be believed, the Spanish influenza that ravaged Europe was greatly exacerbated by the trench warfare of the Great War; others aren't so sure), the quantity of dead is simply staggering. The tension and additional conflicts that make the twentieth century the Century of War will also be explored with my students, but, quite frankly, it's depressing to see, teach, and read about so much death with what we have so far. In fact, I've been a bit grumpier than usual, feeling despondent, depressed, and disgusted with life as I've been wallowing in the enormity (and I mean that in its traditional sense) of what 'civilization' has wrought.
Couple with that tonight's scripture reading with Peter. We're going through the Illustrated Stories of the Book of Mormon right now; this particular part includes "the War Chapters". B.C. Moroni, described as being of such righteous stature that his faith, acquired by all men, would shake the foundation of hell, invests himself quite heavily in the business of bloodshed. His cause is noble: Protection of liberty, freedom (why are those always spoken of as separate?), religion, and families. I do not doubt that those things have to be defended, and that there is much in this world that would see those things quashed. Yet I'm hesitant to extol him as I once did--not for his righteousness, but for his choice of occupation. The fact is, the violence in the Book of Mormon--and, to a much greater extent, the Old Testament--stand very strongly in contrast to what (for me) is the most difficult, deep, and distressing of doctrines that Christ taught: To turn the other cheek. Christ also said that those who take up a sword will perish by it (see Matthew 26:52), which is the best argument I could think of for not owning a gun.
Here's my worry: Sometimes I feel like, when it comes to the heavy doctrines of the kingdom, people get more concerned about irrelevant details than some of the more important things. I can't help but think that a God who came down to die for all of mankind--and, while here, ordered us to be like Him--really smiles upon seeing us getting ready to murder to protect our families.
Maybe it's a broader scope that I'm looking through, one that doesn't allow for the fine gradations of an extreme close-up, but I get the feeling that the parable of the Good Samaritan is not just about the person whose car breaks down on the side of the road, but involves the avoidance of all those ills which would put the traveler in harm's way in the first place. To say it better, I feel that if we are to say, "We fight to protect our families," we have to realize that God's family includes everyone, even the belligerents--jihadis, Nazis, and oppressors of all kinds.
This is hard doctrine, and I'm not sure that I'm interpreting it correctly. The Book of Mormon teaches that Moroni stood up against his oppressors--yet it is the Anti-Nephi-Lehies who are most impressive, the most noble, the ones whose actions actually turn the hearts of their enemies to the Lord. Moroni's violence does not convert, though it does protect the Nephites. So I'm getting contradictory messages, here. Hence comes the great paralyzing analysis of Rage Against the Machine: We are supposed to protect our families and teach them what's right, but to do that, one must harm other children of God; that is, "Rally 'round the family/With a pocket full of shells." Isn't this the "We don't hit!" lesson, emphasized with a spanking?
"But," some may say, "what of those patent evils, those depraved dictators and manipulators of emotion--the demagogues and ideologues and the despots who will take away the right to worship? Shouldn't they be stood up to?"
Gandhi would say, "Stand up to, yes. Fight against, no." Violence was how Hitler got his way, but Gandhi believed differently. As he says in the film, his form of non-violence would be painful and create great losses--but isn't there already pain and great loss? That, to me, is the crux of this issue. One can point to Jesus' purging of the temple and say that that justifies violence. (I would point to that part and say that the only time Jesus got mad enough to resort to violence was when He saw the abuse of the poor by the rich, done not only to get gain but also to exploit the religion of the poor, thus excising those in power--and those with capital.) But hermeneutics aside, Jesus preached peace on earth and goodwill toward men. He asked us to treat others how we wished to be treated. He healed the man whom Peter, in his zealous haste, smote, to say nothing of the forgiveness He proffered the Roman soldiers as He hanged on the cross.
So there's my problem. There's the issue that I have. I'm not saying this is necessarily a political thing, but I can't help but feel a distinct bloodthirstiness from the political right when it comes to war. This is as much at home ("I'll shoot anyone who comes near my property (which is not a Constitutional right) so keep your hands off my God-given guns!") as it is with our foreign policy ("WMDs in Iraq! Er, I mean, spread democracy in Iraq! Topple a dictator!" and "We have to pick and choose which fights we get into, and we have to protect the Libyan people!"). If we are a Christian nation, shouldn't we have turned the other cheek after 9/11? If we are a Christian nation, shouldn't we be more focused on spreading the love of God to all, rather than prosecuting three (THREE!) wars? How is it that we can claim discipleship to the Prince of Peace when within we are all discord and woe? How does violence plus violence equal peace? I can't understand this mode of thought, and my frustration at my own inability to comprehend it is amping up to a greater and greater pitch inside of me.
I look at what happened in Europe from '39-'45 and think, "Thank God for the men and women who did so much to stop that insanity." But, at the same time...how can I stand behind what God has condemned? He has specifically stated that "Thou shall not kill." It can't be much more patent than that. So what's a good Christian to do when killing is all that's ever supposed to be done? How does one square the circle of killing in the name of God when God has said not to do that. Can one have extramarital sex in the name of God and justify that? Can one steal in the name of God and still obtain salvation?
The A-Bomb
Additionally, I can't help but feel that there's something wrong with making an exception of wholesale violence on the magnitude of the nuking of Japan. Oh, I've heard the claims and rationales, that "they started it" and "people were dying anyway from other bombing runs" and "the Japanese forces were committed to winning at any cost" and "we're saving American lives." Just war theory states that there must be proportion to a conflict for it to maintain its justice (a theory that might work if one doesn't deal in the absolutes of Christianity). How can you have a proportionate response to being nuked when the only country on the planet who has them is the one dropping them? (This is laying aside the very high likelihood that Truman wanted the bombs dropped in order to cow the Red Army with America's superior weaponry.) Further: Wasn't part of the moral redemption of World War II found in the liberation of the concentration camps that the Nazis had built? The deaths of millions of Allied men occurred in order to liberate Europe. In the process, millions of Jews (and other marginalized segments of society) were saved from violence. How can we justify the hypocrisy of detonating 300,000 people--an enormous number of whom were innocent civilians--with the most atrocious weapon every used in the history of the Earth, while simultaneously singing the praises of the men who saved so many innocent victims at the concentration camps?
For a long time, war didn't bother me. Now, however, I see it in a different light. And I don't know if I can--or should--go back to my old point of view.
Note: I apologize for the tone of this post. It's much more impassioned than usual, much more emotional. It's also less thoughtfully written, forged instead in a hot fire of spontaneous response to my thoughts.
Comments
1) Gandhi (who you seem to admire) extolled the virtues of the Bhagavad Gita. The Gita consists of the equivalent of Jesus (Krishna) telling the main character to get rid of his hesitations about killing his friends and family members on the battlefield. Barbaric, right? Not according to Gandhi. He saw it as a metaphor for the struggle of the Self against the forces of egoism and illusion. Likewise, I believe that (while not denying its truth) the Book of Mormon can be taken allegorically (aren't we told to "liken the scriptures" to ourselves?). The Nephites represent the good parts of us, while the Lamanites represent the bad parts. They fight across the battlefield of our souls in a struggle with many casualties. At least to me, if the "honorable war" means anything, it means that.
Also, if you like this sort of non-literal analysis of the BOM, check out this guy's blog : http://bomlanguageofbranches.blogspot.com/
2) War (and the idiocy that causes it) is a horrible, horrible thing. So are disease and famine. The religious person may wonder: "why does God allow all that to happen?". He may even horror, as you do, at the fact that sometimes God supports or even causes it. This has led many people to stop believing in God altogether. However, I do not believe that is necessary.
As I see it, the world is infinitely layered. There is a never-ending series of higher orders and lower orders. The thing we need to realize is that what looks one way from a lower perspective looks completely different from a higher one. Who are we to say what is right and wrong for God to condone? He can see more than any of us. I have no doubt that God cares for the well-being of all his children, but I do doubt whether his plans for them are simple. To give an example: doesn't the body rely on a never-ending chemical battle inside it to keep it alive? Perhaps the reason war happens and that God sometimes condones it is that his plan for peace is complicated.
There you go. I certainly enjoyed your post. Hope that helps!
I know exactly what you mean when you talked about “feeling despondent, depressed, and disgusted” with life when you think about the sheer magnitude of injustice in every corner of the globe during the twentieth century. Adding insult to the injury caused by the wholesale violence of that century is the attempted religious justification of it (by some). Couple comments on your thoughts.
1- It seems to me that the only attempt to valorize battle in The Book of Mormon is when the warfare was conducted under the Law of Moses. All fighting and bloodshed after the birth of the Savior is portrayed in a negative light, evil, and full of loathing. The Old Testament was a different law and a totally different set of circumstances. So much so that if a person tries to validate a principle—any principle—in modernity solely by an appeal to the OT they will fall short. This is the shortcoming of all Christian Zionist movements in particular and fundamentalists of any of the Christian faiths in general.
2- The cleansing of the temple by the quintessential pacifist had undertones and circumstances not readily apparent. Christ chased the money-changers out of the temple. In those days, you still needed a pristine animal to sacrifice in order to be an “active member” so the temple started selling these animals to the people for profit. This profit made the head of the temple (Caiaphas, the High Priest) and his family very wealthy. It would be like our temples today renting white clothing that it required for salvific ceremonies at an exorbitantly high rate, and then the temple president pocketed all the profit. So Christ “cleansed” the temple.
Remember that Christ had pure love. The “violence” that Christ portrayed that day was still meted out with infinite love and a perfect desire to save those people caught up in the sins of profiteering off of the devoted poor. (Remember, Christian scriptures have a universal condemnation of charging interest as its only purpose is to make money without labor and off the backs of the indigent.) And, lest we forget, he was chasing them out of HIS house. All of those factors negate the “sinfulness” of the violence. Had you or I done it I doubt it would have been done as purely.
Much more to comment on, more to follow.
Sorry it has taken so long to respond and explain my previous post
The point of the cleansing of the temple example was to illustrate the fundamental aspect of intent as it pertains to sin. There is nothing material in sin, nor is there anything that is absolute sin or an independent sin. By this I mean that sin is only something virtuous or good, done in the wrong place, time, etc., and always with the wrong intentions. Sex, for example, is one of the most holy actions in which one can participate in mortality, more sacred in fact than the sacrament according to Elder Holland. Yet it is constantly desecrated and polluted (even by faithful members) in the names of self-pleasure, evolutionary instinct and biology. Furthermore, it seems that the intent is paramount to sinfulness, even more than the action itself. For if a man can lust after a woman and commit adultery in his heart without ever touching her, then how can sin be merely the action?
This leads me to the current discussion on killing. It seems to me that there would have to be allowances for intent as there is in all sin. If there is not, then killing of another human being would be the only sinful action allowed to mortals that is absolute. If one adopted this standpoint they would be aligned with the Anabaptist notion of defenseless Christianity and absolute pacifism. The early Anabaptists cheerfully went to the flaming stake and burned without protest because they firmly believed that it was the greatest honor to die for Christ. They died, in part, because of their ‘heretical’ belief that any killing of another human being, directly or indirectly, was unpardonable.
The part I struggle with is that it seems to me that it would be unjust and unmerciful to condemn a person for killing in the defense of someone unable to defend themselves. Would Christ smile upon the man who, upon finding a man in his house intent on doing serious harm to his wife or children, simply does what he can to stop him without resorting to violence or killing? If one of the Jews in the concentration camps lashed out and killed a guard who was torturing his or her child would they be condemned to the pit? I understand turning the other cheek to violence directed toward oneself, especially if that violence is on behalf of God or other people, but to allow someone God placed in your stewardship to perish or be maimed because you don’t want to dirty your hands seems to smack of misguided loyalties and pretension.
That being said, I think your critique of the bloodthirstiness from the political right in this country is spot on. I do have to correct you though, we are not prosecuting three wars but four, the ‘war on drugs’ that Nixon started back in ’71, and Regan escalated to its current lunacy, still receives tens of billions of dollars each year and we are hopelessly losing the fight.
As far as “Thou shall not kill” is concerned, hermeneutically speaking the Greek word used in the New Testament mirrors the Hebrew word in the Torah which translates to murder, or slaughter. Also, you can’t have extramarital sex in the name of God but you can have sex. World War II was of a completely different vein of justification in my mind than all the wars we have had since, but that is a completely different post all together.
I know your hatred of the A-bomb and your contempt for the Enola Gay, but all
‘Christian killing’ arguments aside, I still don’t see how it differs from all other horrific means of making widespread death. Is it the fallout, the numbers, or the timeframe that bothers you? Is getting gutted by a sword or sprayed with mustard gas better? As for your comment on the moral redemption of the liberation of the concentration camps in WW2, let’s be honest, we never would have gotten involved if it wasn’t for Pearl Harbor, no matter what they were doing to the Jews. We still don’t get involved unless there is an economic or militaristic advantage for us. For me, the moral redemption of WW2 was found in men being forced to fight and women picking up all the slack at home notwithstanding how denigrating America was to women back then. But again, this is a topic for another post altogether.
In conclusion, I guess I don’t see righteousness in some forms of killing, but permissiveness. There can’t be a complete ban or absolute sinfulness attached to it or the killing of a single person would hold the same negative spiritual ramifications as the killing of 300,000. Also, if all killing is sinful no matter what the circumstance, then isn’t our recreation and entertainment—if it involves violence—just as negative on us as if it contained immoral, prurient content? One could hardly stomach sitting through Lord of the Rings if there were no right or wrong, just wrong. Likewise, Aragorn wouldn’t be much of a hero at all if, after pledging himself to Frodo, he simply laid down his sword like a good Christian. Maybe that’s the point, like Hamlet and Claudius, Aragorn at the end of the day, is the same as Sauron.
Sorry it has taken so long to respond and explain my previous post
The point of the cleansing of the temple example was to illustrate the fundamental aspect of intent as it pertains to sin. There is nothing material in sin, nor is there anything that is absolute sin or an independent sin. By this I mean that sin is only something virtuous or good, done in the wrong place, time, etc., and always with the wrong intentions. Sex, for example, is one of the most holy actions in which one can participate in mortality, more sacred in fact than the sacrament according to Elder Holland. Yet it is constantly desecrated and polluted (even by faithful members) in the names of self-pleasure, evolutionary instinct and biology. Furthermore, it seems that the intent is paramount to sinfulness, even more than the action itself. For if a man can lust after a woman and commit adultery in his heart without ever touching her, then how can sin be merely the action?
This leads me to the current discussion on killing. It seems to me that there would have to be allowances for intent as there is in all sin. If there is not, then killing of another human being would be the only sinful action allowed to mortals that is absolute. If one adopted this standpoint they would be aligned with the Anabaptist notion of defenseless Christianity and absolute pacifism. The early Anabaptists cheerfully went to the flaming stake and burned without protest because they firmly believed that it was the greatest honor to die for Christ. They died, in part, because of their ‘heretical’ belief that any killing of another human being, directly or indirectly, was unpardonable.
The part I struggle with is that it seems to me that it would be unjust and unmerciful to condemn a person for killing in the defense of someone unable to defend themselves. Would Christ smile upon the man who, upon finding a man in his house intent on doing serious harm to his wife or children, simply does what he can to stop him without resorting to violence or killing? If one of the Jews in the concentration camps lashed out and killed a guard who was torturing his or her child would they be condemned to the pit? I understand turning the other cheek to violence directed toward oneself, especially if that violence is on behalf of God or other people, but to allow someone God placed in your stewardship to perish or be maimed because you don’t want to dirty your hands seems to smack of misguided loyalties and pretension.
That being said, I think your critique of the bloodthirstiness from the political right in this country is spot on. I do have to correct you though, we are not prosecuting three wars but four, the ‘war on drugs’ that Nixon started back in ’71, and Regan escalated to its current lunacy, still receives tens of billions of dollars each year and we are hopelessly losing the fight.
It has also often shocked me how so many times throughout history people have killed others all in the name of 'god'- not really pondering on what god actually stands for.I think often we do that today - I'm justified being mean to someone because they have different beliefs than me.
anyways just some thoughts. I'm sorry about the grammar I'm typing on a phone :)also I once heard a quote from Ernest Hemingway that we can't forget that war is a crime against humanity regardless of its justification or necessity. War is something that by nature is usually evil - the intent to kill or destroy someone else who by christianity's standards is our brothers and sisters .
Anyways thanks for the post it was interesting:)-katiemarie
36 Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
37 Jesus said unto him,
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,
and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
38 This is the first and great commandment.
39 And the second is like unto it,
Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Lev. 19.18
40 On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.
That being said, it seems like the question is, so, will killing someone ever be the best way to love God or my neighbor? (My neighbor meaning all men and certainly not being excluded to those living half way across the world, as the good samaritan 'discusses.')
If we're looking for examples of Love, we can't really get a better source than God ("God is Love.") One part of that emmulation is this: God doesn't love us because of our own internal loveliness but because he is love and he gives us loveliness. Likewise, our love for others--our family, the chickens I feed, the land, strangers--should not come from the loveliness that they have which draws me to them, but the loveliness I bring to them by my own love ('Saint Francis and the Sow' by Galway Kinnel.)
In that regard, the evilness of a person is entirely irrelevent to our own feelings or goodwill and love.
But, it is not irrelevent in our treatment of others. Certainly (I believe) there is a very poignant element of mercy within all justice; ultimately, the two are the same thing: the external conduit to joy that we are given. An example of this is in the drug addict who goes to jail. If you have ever attended any sort of program that deals heavily with addiction, you will hear stories about the four months in prison which were the salvation of the persons life. I'm not just talking about correction, I'm talking about an internal re-orientation with the self. Of course, civil justice is a poor shadow of divine justice. As I see it, divine justive would be only more this way.
An evidence for this is that for those in the celestial kingdom, who have perfect Love, there will be no desire for revenge on the wrongs committed against them. Likewise, punishment wouldn't be to make God feel better. Justice must benefit someone and the only party left is the sinner.
Back to emmulating God, who is perfect in his Love. There are many instances where God kills many people. In the time of Noah, he sends the flood for the express purpose of killing those who are turned away from him, of cleansing the earth.
NOW-I'm not trying to be an advocate of war. I'm just trying to say that I don't think it is completely sound to use religion as a basis against all war, and for all we know, killing won't always be 'loveless.' When Nephi kills Laban (I know, classic example), he easily could have loved Laban more than many of us love our own friends and family.
If that's the case, than perhaps if we shouldn't defend ourselves, we shouldn't defend others. Of course, the flaw in that is that if you really were one than you would have the same desires etc. which isn't quite the case. But anyway.
I apologize for the longwindedness of this. I hope you read it anyway.
Which goes back to ourselves loving others. If our participation in war (as the offender OR the victim) causes us to be distanced from each other and in anyway love God or Others less, than at least for ourselves and for our specific being with the war which lost love, war is immoral. But it may not be inherently so.
Which goes back to ourselves loving others. If our participation in war (as the offender OR the victim) causes us to be distanced from each other and in anyway love God or Others less, than at least for ourselves and for our specific being with the war which lost love, war is immoral. But it may not be inherently so.
Just a thought. :)
(By the way, I would be in the ranks of people who have a hard time with that commandment.)