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The Language of War

America has been in a state of war for some time now. Gore Vidal noted and documented not long after 9/11 that we've been involved in over two hundred military operations since the end of World War II. Some of these are ongoing. I am not here concerned with the justice of these operations; I make the point because the world we are situated in does influence our thinking, and our perpetual state of war, especially in the last decade, has not left our minds untouched.

For the most part, 9/11 being an obvious exception, the fronts of these wars have been far away, over there, distant from our daily lives. We experienced terror on 9/11 that many places in the world know only too well. For us and in our much of our thinking, the enemy is distant, far away, yet a threat that must be faced--faced over there lest the enemy enter our daily routine and fight us over here. At least that's what we're told. I doubt those who live "over there" find such arguments of ours comforting. Callous, I'd say.

The language of war is not only used in reference to actual wars, but also in reference to the conflicts in our culture. The phrase "culture wars" is common among those who believe that our culture is infected with evil ideas and practices, ideas and practices that must be fought and defeated in order to redeem our culture. "Culture warrior," one popular journalist calls himself.

I agree that there is much evil in our culture, and much good also. I also agree that such evil must be fought against, and so I am understanding of the language of war used in reference to our cultural conflicts. Nevertheless, this language, while expressing truth, conceals truth as well.

In a war, the objective is to defeat the enemy. Certainly we should want to "defeat" erroneous ideas and evil practices tolerated or celebrated in our culture. But here we come to the limits of the language of war. For what is necessary for the redemption of our culture is not the defeat of those who harm the culture, but their conversion and redemption. We don't change a person's ideas by destroying him, by ignoring his dignity as a person, or by disrespecting his dignity as a person. We can change his mind and heart through charitable engagement, persuading him to embrace and proclaim the truth.

Perhaps no cultural issue is more passionately fought over than abortion. The language of war is wielded with full force in this debate. From each side we often hear the debate framed as a battle between good and evil, justice and injustice, with each side arguing or asserting its side as the only good one. Often we hear voices on the pro-life side depicting those in the abortion rights movement as pro-death or evil baby killers. From the abortion rights side are heard claims that those on the pro-life side are fanatically religious or oppressors of women. Locked into the language of war, many on each side seldom listen to the other side or consider the possibility that each may have legitimate moral concerns.

If each side has any hope of fruitfully addressing its moral concerns, it will need to learn to think and communicate beyond just the language of war. A pro-life culture won't appear just because Roe v. Wade is overturned. It will take persuading the abortion rights movement, including and especially the movers and shakers, of the personhood of the unborn (or at the very least, that the mere possibility of their personhood obligates us to act on the side of life). Such persuasion is unlikely to occur unless the pro-life side is open to and willing to do something about the the moral concerns of the the abortion rights side.

What hope we have in these cultural conflicts lies in charity, and charity is a virtue that closes the distance, drawing us closer together, where we cease to see the other as an enemy "over there," and where we may see them as one made in the image and likeness of God, made to be with God, and given the power of mind and heart to see that destiny.