February 16, 2003

Getting a perspective

Many of you won’t see these words for as much as a week after they’re written. That’s a writer’s challenge: keeping things topical and trying to get the right perspective.

As I write this, we’ve just concluded a horrible week: The aftermath of the Shuttle Columbia tragedy; a reeling stock market; imminent war and a Condition Orange terrorism alert.

In the meantime, there was another item that struck me, one which has nothing to do with today’s anguish, but may give current events a different perspective.

Way down South in Enterprise, Ala., lives Alberta Martin, and she’s the last link we have to America’s greatest tragedy, surpassing all we struggle through today, the Civil War.

Martin is the widow of William Jasper Martin, a Confederate soldier who fought the Bluecoats from Alabama to Richmond.

He was 81 when they were married in 1927. She was 21. And in January, when the Union’s last surviving widow died, Martin, 96, became the final living string reaching back into history.

We Americans, with lives moving at light-speed, are often too content to leave history in the history books. We are poorer for that. The philosopher George Santayana said it best: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” In other words, to know who we are, it’s vital to know who we’ve been.

When I am foolish enough to forget history—or let myself forget that current events are rooted in past events (Hello, Desert Storm, World Wars I and II, the Crusades, Alexander the Great and epic biblical battles!), I remember my grandfather. He was born before autos and died as we headed to the moon. In between, he helped perfect the telephone systems we still use today.

The church, it’s said—sometimes respectfully, often snidely—“thinks in centuries and plans for eternity.” That’s a perspective that rankles conservatives and liberals alike; one because movement seems too slow and the other because there is movement at all.

What does all this have to do with our national consciousness being assaulted by the Columbia tragedy, a shattered economy, terrorism alert Condition Orange and by eagerness for war by many?

That long view, that perspective, is perhaps why the church has been so strong in its opposition to war, except as an absolute last resort. It’s a perspective that is weakened, however, as faith loses value in everyday society.

Evil gains when faith losses the power to battle it.

Yet, that’s a very human thing. When we’re under attack we want to something physical to fight back with. Prayers don’t seem to cut it; we want to throw stones or spears—or missiles. Even in Jesus’ day, people missed the connection to faith, misunderstood the role of a messiah. They wanted a military savior to rescue them from the Romans.

But faith–our faith, at least–isn’t supposed to wave a sword.

And that’s where faith clashes with current events, and current culture.

The church preaches peace in the face of war; insists there must be another way. Our nation’s rush toward conflict drowns out that voice; you have to listen closely to hear it over the clatter of marching men and machines of war. But it’s there, proclaiming love against hate; courage over fear; peace rather than violence. Because that’s the Good News.

Tomorrow, next week and perhaps beyond, the economy will still be in tatters. It’s still going to be terrorism alert Condition Orange, our leaders will still foolishly be seeking war—and, despite prayers and protests and pleas even from the pope, will likely get it.

The only perspective I can offer is that, in the long run—perhaps the very long run—God will triumph over evil. That’s why they call it the Good News.

Tom Sheridan
Editor and General Manager