I want to continue our conversation this morning by saying that war is ultimately a spiritual failure.  Feminist theologian Sharon Welch has commented, “Neither the threat of nuclear war nor the danger of nuclear power are seen as mysterious, as inexplicable aberrations in an otherwise healthy system.  They are the…logical outcomes of a definition of living that involves conquering other nations, other peoples, other forces.” [1]   War is a spiritual failure.  Poet-prophet Alice Walker speaks of war this way: “It is always us, and only us, that we wound whenever we harm another.  There is no way to be separate from the rest of creation; we indulge the fantasy of being separate to our peril.” [2]   And, I might add, to the peril of our children, our children’s children, and our one shared earth.  War is a spiritual failure.  We have not cultivated a national spirit that urges us to reason with other nations, to seek reconciliation even in the face of deep conflict, to beat our swords into plowshares.

As we consider the costs of war, we can talk about numbers…numbers like 3,801 soldiers dead [3] or 27,753 wounded [4] .  Numbers like $455 billion spent [5] .  We could consider the cost of reconstruction, which the World Bank estimates at $56 billion. [6]   We might consider that for the cost of this war we could have instead spent these same tax dollars insuring every uninsured child in our nation 10 times over. [7]   We could explore the ecological costs, recognizing that militarism is “the only sector of the economy that could reduce emissions of greenhouse gases by more than 100%” because it is “the only type of activity whose primary purpose is destruction.” [8]   Global warring levels a triple impact on global warming with the production of weapons, their transport and use, and then the rebuilding of all that has been destroyed.  These are just some of the costs associated with war, costs that will likely be passed on to our children and grandchildren in the form of enormous tax burdens, reduced public services, and a planet that is hotter than ever before.  No wonder women imagine a world without war.

These are the cold, hard figures.  But the truth is, too many women know the cost of war intuitively and intimately.  We know, because women are like the yellow canaries flying through dangerous mine shafts.  When the canaries begin to die, the rest of life is sure to follow.  Zainab Salbi, CEO of Women for Women International and author of The Other Side of War says that “war often enters homes through the kitchen door.” [9]   What she means by this is that long before invaders reach the doorstep, women deal with the first quakes of war that show up as food shortages, school closings, and often the loss of personal freedoms. [10]  

As women, we understand too the link between household terrorism and international terrorism, the tie that binds domestic violence to global violence.   Too many women can count the cost of war on their bodies.  Inga Muscio states, “the Lakota believe a people cannot be vanquished unless the spirit of woman is broken…in the context of war, she says, rape literally plants the seed of the invader in the body of a people.” [11]   And so, the violation of women’s bodies and spirits have been integral to the objectives of war. 

Our task as women—as women of faith, as womanists, as feminists, as mothers, as grandmothers, as movers and shakers—our task as spirited women is to move beyond victimization and claim women as a locus for healing and change.  The World Council of Churches says it this way:   “The global reality of violence against women is that women are not only victims, but also astute, creative and successful actors in responding nonviolently to it.” [12]  

Our own Sayre Sheldon, author of Her War Story, said, “As ‘outsiders’ to the war system, Virginia Woolf pointed out women can bring fresh thinking to traditional explanations and justifications for war.  They can question whether making war is an inevitable part of human nature.  They envision societies without war.  Told they are naïve idealists for doing so, women stubbornly maintain that their idealism is in fact common sense.  Survival depends upon understanding and arresting the impulse to destroy which today—as never before in history—is capable of extinguishing humanity altogether.” [13]        

And so as women laboring for peace, as women bearing the torch of hope in desperate times, we have our work cut out for us.  I’m reminded of the story of the midwives Shiphrah and Puah from the Hebrew Scriptures. [14]   You may recall that Shiphrah and Puah were sternly instructed by Pharaoh to kill all Hebrew baby boys just after birth.  The Egyptian Pharaoh was a leader who viewed the world in an “us against them” dichotomy.  And he saw that his people were being outnumbered by the flourishing Hebrews, who were laboring for Egypt under the yoke of oppression.  And there’s only so long that an oppressed group of folks will put up with that kind of treatment.  In fear of retaliation, Pharaoh planned a preemptive war.  He mandated the murder of all Hebrew males before they grew old enough to threaten his people.  His mandate amounted to a terrorist plot that would have a disproportionate affect on women and the children to whom they gave birth. 

What Pharaoh didn’t account for was the bold defiance of two revolutionary women of faith.  God had blessed them with the generous gift of being able to skillfully guide life into the world, and they refused to use this gift to dole out death.  These midwives acted with consensus.  They spoke with one voice.  Puah did not push Shiphrah out of the way to find favor with Pharoah.  Shiphrah did not wheel and deal behind closed doors to betray Puah for power.  They committed their acts of infinite love over and over, guiding one infant after another out of their mother’s womb into the hot Egyptian air.  Imagine such conspiracy! 

When I remember the story of these midwives, I imagine how the world would lurch if women linked arms with women and defied the violence stalking our globe.  I imagine what it would mean for us to go hand in hand into a world that sternly instructs us to employ violence as a means to democracy, violence as a means to peace, violence as a means to making things right.  What would it mean for us to go collectively, confronting violence with peace?          

Zainab Salbi states, “Through their stories, women help us understand the real costs of war, the interruption to the basic commerce of daily living, the way it upends families and downsizes even the most modest dreams.  Through women’s stories, we also learn how to rebuild a country, a community, and a family.” [15]

Salbi’s book tells the stories of women from Rwanda, Afghanistan, Bosnia, Columbia,  and Iraq who have overcome the violence of war, including rape, to live out their hope.  They adopt orphans, lead women’s groups, start their own businesses, and create local cooperatives that serve entire communities.  In this nation, we also have our own stories.  Stories of American mothers taking to the streets in protest because we identify with Iraqi mothers across battle lines.   

The power of women to imagine and live into a new world is a spiritual power.  It’s a power that comes from knowing who we are, what we stand for, and the intrinsic worth of each human being created in the image of the divine.  If war is a spiritual failure, then overcoming this failure will require spiritual tenacity.  I believe women are up for the challenge.  Thank you.

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