CROSSES ON THE SAND
April 9, 2006The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
It was July of 2004, and my L.A. sister and I were visiting our younger sister on Cape Cod, where she and her husband have a charming old house in Chatham. Every time I’m there, I look forward to being greeted at the entrance to town by the old Unitarian Universalist Church of Chatham.
But on this particular visit, the church looked very different. The front lawn was covered with several hundred pairs of soldiers’ boots – symbols, we learned, of the several hundred U.S. soldiers who had been killed by that time over in Iraq. It was an exhibit called “Eyes Wide Open,” and it was touring the United States; some of you have no doubt seen it.
We parked our car and began wandering through the exhibit. Each pair of boots had a tag with a soldier’s name on it, as well as where they came from; there were a number of them from Southern California. (Indeed, I no doubt read the name of Evan Ashcraft, for whom the West Hills Library is now named, and whose mother spoke here a few months ago. But of course, his name would have meant nothing to me at the time.)
It was a very powerful exhibit. But what held my gaze even longer was another part of the exhibit, off to one side: a pile of ordinary shoes – men’s, women’s and children. These shoes were symbols of the thousands of innocent Iraqi citizens who had been killed in our war. I don’t know what the number was that summer of 2004; an article last Fall in the L.A. Times suggested that the “best ‘guestimate’ of civilian deaths was between 26 and 30,000.” But the Veterans for Peace estimate the number of dead Iraqi citizens today to be over 100,000.
The “Eyes Wide Open” exhibit was stunning, and I had to wonder how anyone could walk through it and not be moved to both sorrow at the loss of life, and outrage at the pointlessness of these deaths – both of the Iraqi citizens, and of our young soldiers.
Over 2300 American soldiers have died so far in this war that was grounded in lies. Listen to the names of some of those soldiers who came from Los Angeles County.
Jose Casanova; Stephen P. Johnson; Leroy Harris-Kelly; Victor R. Lu; Atanasio Haro Marin, Jr.; Jose L. Mora; Raul Mercado; Jose Ricardo Flores-Mejia; Brian M. Wood.
*****
On February 15, 2004, a local group of war veterans calling themselves “Veterans for Peace” walked out onto the beach just north of the Santa Monica pier, and began erecting small wooden crosses in the sand – one for each soldier killed in Iraq. It was a Sunday morning, and the display remained until the sun set that afternoon.
Every Sunday since then, volunteers have joined them at 7:30 in the morning to set up the crosses – each week a few more crosses than the last; and at sundown, they gather all the crosses back up. By today – when many of us will be helping to take down the memorial – this “Arlington West” will display over 2,350 crosses honoring our fallen soldiers. They also display photos of some of the injured soldiers – more than 17,000 since the war began. Many of these injured will face the rest of their lives without arms or legs, or with severe brain damage.
On Veterans Day weekend last October, the organizers of Arlington West had decided to have it up all weekend, and add to it symbolic caskets. A call had gone out to clergy of all faiths to gather on the Sunday morning of that 3-day weekend for a special worship service and vigil. Since I needed to be here that morning, I went instead the day before for a special peace rally and march through the streets of Santa Monica. It was my first time at the exhibit.
Renee Lancon went with me. As we walked from the parking lot to the beach, I was overcome with the power of this disturbing display; it did indeed look like a cemetery there on the beach. People were wandering through the aisles, placing flowers on some of the crosses, as well as slips of paper with a soldier’s name, and personal messages of love or gratitude or peace.
Black t-shirts were handed out to all participants; the shirts read, “2,000 Dead; How Many More?” Renee and I put on our shirts and went to find a casket to carry. We chose one that had a photo of a young soldier leaning against it.
As we stood there waiting for instructions, a man came over and asked, motioning to the picture, “Are you carrying my friend’s coffin?”
We said yes. He then introduced himself as a friend of the family of “our” soldier in the picture.
As we stood there chatting, his cell phone suddenly rang. It turned out to be the mother of the soldier in the picture, whose symbolic casket Renee and I would soon be carrying! After he spoke to her for a few minutes, the man said to her, “Here; I’ll let you talk to a couple of the people who will be carrying your son’s casket through the streets of Santa Monica,” and proceeded to hand the phone to Renee! Renee talked to the woman, and then handed the phone to me. I told her I was the minister of a Unitarian Universalist congregation, and that I knew that many of my parishioners would be carrying her son’s casket in spirit that day.
She was so very grateful, and speaking with her – hearing the sorrow and the gratitude in her voice – brought the depth of her experience alive for me.
I don’t remember how long it took the crowd to walk slowly through downtown Santa Monica, holding all these symbolic caskets on our shoulders. We stopped at one point for a brief rally, at which I was invited to offer a prayer. But mostly we walked. And as we did, I could feel the burden on my shoulders of this young soldier; I could feel the heaviness of his coffin, and the grief of his death.
And I vowed I would not forget him, or the sound of his mother’s voice as we spoke that day.
George J. Payton, Rex C. Kenyon, Sergio H. Escobar, Atanasio Haro Marin, Jr., Rel A. Ravago IV, Jose Ricardo Flores-Mejia, James P. Blecksmith, Evan Asa Ashcraft, Kelly Bolor, Cole W. Larsen, Milton M. Monzon, Jr., Felipe D. Sandoval-Flores.
*****
This war in Iraq is perhaps the most urgent issue of our time, and one with which I hope this congregation will begin to wrestle – not just on an occasional Sunday, but every week in some form or another.
I don’t need to tell you all the details. I think you know that Saddam Hussein’s supposed “weapons of mass destruction” were a hoax to convince the American public of the need to invade Iraq.
You know that we went there with no plan for how to combat the insurgency that could be expected to follow, or a timetable or strategy for exiting.
You know that the costs of this war are mind-boggling. According to one study, “if our presence continues at the level predicted for the next five years, the minimum cost will be 1.3 trillion dollars – or $11,300 per household!” And that doesn’t include the non-financial costs: Reduced funding for domestic programs, such as education, health care, housing for the poor, maintenance of our infrastructure, and on and on. The deaths and injuries to our soldiers, as well as those from other countries fighting our war. And the casualties to so many thousands of innocent Iraqi citizens.
You probably know that rather than making things better for the Iraqi people, our presence there has actually made things worse. According to an L.A. Times editorial last June, increasing guerrilla attacks have “crippled programs for repairing electrical lines, water plants and sewage treatment facilities,” resulting in “a disastrous roster of infant mortality, malnutrition and injuries.”
You may know that rather than keeping America and the rest of the world safe from terrorism, our war on Iraq has simply added fuel to the terrorists, and created a more frightening world. As John Kerry said recently, we have become Al Qaeda’s “best recruitment tool.”
And you know that the war in Iraq is only one part of what’s being called a “war on terrorism” – some amorphous “war” that can never be won, because we live in a world where terrorists will always exist. If there is a way to win this so-called “war,” it isn’t through more violence; it’s through ending the conditions throughout the world – poverty and oppression – that tend to breed the depth of hatred that then results in acts of terrorism.
According to Gary Dorrien, a professor at Union Theological Seminary, the Bush Administration is the first to “commit the United States to a doctrine of perpetual war.”
We all know – or at least suspect – these things. Why do those representing us in Congress not seem to know, or to care?
Allan K. Walker, Anthony J. Davis, Lyndon A. Marcus, Randy D. Collins, Stephen A. Castellano, Ernesto A. Guerra, Roberto L. Martinez Salazar, Eddie E. Menyweather, Benjamin R. Gonzalez, Abraham D. Penamedina, John Winston Marshall, Roberto Abad.
*****
“Guess what, Grandma? I have a new sister!”
This is what greeted me when I picked up my grandson Friday afternoon. I was pretty surprised; after all, my daughter hadn’t looked pregnant!
I quickly surmised that Josh’s father must have had a baby with his new wife. “Wow; that’s exciting!” I said to Josh.
But my excitement was squelched when Josh said, “Yeah, but she’s probably going to die soon.” “Why?” I asked, imagining this tiny baby born with some incurable disease.
“Because she’s a soldier,” replied my grandson, “and she has to go back to the war, so will probably get killed.”
Imagine being an 8-year-old child, excited to learn that you have a half-sister from your father’s past that you never knew anything about, and that you’re going to meet her for the first time. How must it feel to think that this will probably also be the last time you’ll see her, because she’s then going off to war, which to your young mind means she’s going to die? It broke my heart.
I assured Josh that she probably wouldn’t die in the war – that most soldiers return home just fine. (No sense telling him yet about all the emotional scars that often accompany soldiers home.) He kept asking me what her chances were of staying alive: 50%? 75%? Only 10%? I told him I didn’t know, but that I was sure she’d be fine.
I also told him I wished she weren’t having to go to war. But from what my daughter told me later about this young woman, she’s like so many of the American soldiers fighting in Iraq: Young, African American, poor, seeing few options for herself other than what the military can offer her. It’s rare to find wealthy young people enlisting in military service. Indeed, as far as I know, none of the children or grandchildren of those who have created this war are over there fighting in it.
I may never meet my grandson’s new sister. But I will hold her in my heart, and pray that she returns soon to her home, healthy and full of hope. That is my prayer for them all.
Francisco Abraham Martinez-Flores, Jorge Alonso Gonzales, Trinidad R. Martinezluis, Lius A. Figueroa, Omead H. Razani, Edgar E. Lopez, Joselito O. Villanueva, Juan de Dios Garcia-Arana, Geoffrey Perez, Veashna Muy, Carlos Pineda, Dion M. Whitley.
*****
How do we honor these 48 soldiers from Los Angeles County who died in Iraq? How do we give meaning to the deaths of the over 2300 men and women who have died there? And how do we show our support for the soldiers still fighting in this war not of their making?
The Interfaith Communities United for Justice and Peace have had as their slogan since their formation after 9/11: “Religious communities must stop blessing war and violence.” We have blessed war and violence in the past sometimes by actively supporting it, or, more often, by simply remaining passive in the face of it. But that’s no way to honor our soldiers who have given their lives in war.
ICUJP writes: “People of faith and faith communities are not charged with stopping the war machine; we are charged with heeding the ‘still, small voice within,’ with letting our light shine, with insisting on honesty and accountability from our leaders and media, and with creating more and more opportunities for open dialogue.”
Our sixth Unitarian Universalist Principle “affirms and promotes…the goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all.” That is why our UUA president, Bill Sinkford, has called on Congress to begin a dialogue about withdrawing from Iraq. And it’s why the delegates to two past Unitarian Universalist General Assemblies have passed Actions of Immediate Witness to call on Congress to, among other things, “conduct open bi-partisan hearings on the moral and legal justification” for the war, and to set a timetable for ending it. This is the one way to support our troops.
We give meaning to our Unitarian Universalist Principles and honor those 48 soldiers from Los Angeles county by doing whatever we have in our power to do to bring home the remaining soldiers safe and sound, and by helping to rebuild Iraq – not through military might, but through adequate funding and peaceful negotiations.
Most of all, perhaps we best honor the soldiers who have died, in this war and in previous wars, by working to end all war. Howard Zinn writes that after he enlisted in World War II, he came to realize that war “poisons everyone engaged in it – turns them into killers and torturers….War is the enemy of the human race,” he writes.
So let us begin to talk together about this war, and what we are willing to do to end it. I will be holding a “Sermon Reflection Circle” after the service as a first step, and I hope you will join me – especially if you have disagreements with my position.
Let us join other people of faith – in the West Valley and beyond – in actions of public witness, as we have been doing with our monthly peace vigils. Let us continue such actions later today by visiting Arlington West, where we will not only be able to experience this moving testimonial, but also help dismantle it.
Let us take individual actions such as letting our government representatives know that we want the designers of this war to be held accountable, and we want a plan to end it as soon as possible.
And let us keep in our hearts all those who are affected by this war – the soldiers and their families, the innocent citizens of Iraq, the poor and vulnerable in America who have less because of diverted funding, and even those who we name as the enemy. For as Traci’s words at the beginning of our service this morning tell us, we cannot have peace in the world if we do not have peace in our hearts.
The Reverend Dana McLean Greeley once wrote: “We should have faith in peace, that it is good and that it is possible and that nothing else in its place will suffice.” May we remember never tire of this faith. Amen.
© 2006 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
