WHAT IS THE SPIRIT OF THE BAYONET?

When was the last time you heard anyone in our government talk about killing the enemy?'

I can't remember when.

I've heard them use every euphemism and metaphor to gingerly sidestep the action, but I haven't heard them utter the "K" word once.

As a matter of fact, I can't remember a time in recent past when any of our leaders had the courage to say we need to close with and kill the enemy until they no longer exist.

Oh, excuse me. I think that the last time was President Truman.

Today's polititians spout about the war on this and the war on that. But I've never heard them elaborate on the business of war, which is killing.

Who are we fooling?

I 'm not even sure that "Rummy" has had the guts to describe who the enemy is to mom and pop Kettle out in the Bible Belt.

Somehow, after his CNN interviews I'm always left with the impression that the enemy is a rather nebulas group of 'others' that go by a new variation of the "Party of God" every week.

Maybe it's just me, but I'm a big fan of defining who the bad guys are and then giving them a chance to repent.

If they shoot back then it's time to dehumanize them as instruments of the slimy devil that they are, and then kill every one of them for the safety of our families.

To hell with worring about the safety of the world. The safety of our world is what's in play.

Of course Americans don't know it.

Too politically incorrect?

Un-Christian?

Perhaps.

But I don't see our Jewish brethren in Israel splitting hairs over it.

Oh, by the way, back in the day Army drill sergeants used to teach their basic trainees that the spirit of the bayonet was to kill.

Today they teach stress reduction techniques.

ANOTHER CHAPTER

So long Mike.

Another chapter of my generation closes with your passing.

In your own words, you were a "square guy."

BLESSINGS AND CURSES

Wonder what's going on in Israel today?

Don't. The game that God set in motion back in the day of Abram is beyond our ability to fathom.

But, judging by some of the negative comments I've recently overheard, I thought I'd take a moment to simplify a complex situation.

Maybe in the last week you've suddenly rediscovered your inner hippy. Maybe you're ready to take the tie-died bandana out of the closet, light some incense and protest Israel's behavior. Admit it, you're torn between your need for inner peace and the violence of God's salvation plan for this world.

Or, perhaps you've pulled a 'Gibson' and your ultra conservative Christian smugness has caused you to fight a seething hate the Jews and for all of the world's problems you've imagined them responsible for.

Get a grip.

The fact is that what you are watching on FOX News is the same Satan who once upon a time tried to kill the King of the Jews and now attacks the extended family of Christ in Israel and those of us who say we are his followers.

That's right, to refresh your memory the sign above the cross says Jesus is the King of the Jews. . . not the Christians.

The fact is that we Christians are adopted into the 'Jewish family' by our faith in the one who will someday assume his position as the heir to the throne of King David and establish the New Kingdom.

To recap the war: about 3060 years ago the philistines and other 'stines' tried to wipe the Jews off the face of the planet. Then it was the Babylonians and Hittites. In AD 60 it was the Romans who almost wiped them out sending the survivors into the dispora. In the Middle Ages it was the European Christians, in 1940 it was the Nazis and ever since it has been the Muslims.

My advice is to stay out of God's business with these people and try not to figure out the political, social, cultural or religious reasons why the Israelis do what they do. History shows that their behavior is no better or worse than any other nation.

The biggest difference (and hear me on this) is that God has never said to the people of any other nation on the face of the planet, "I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you." Genesis 12:3

Personally I take him at his word.

So get on board the blessing train and don't let Satan fool you with human justifications and temporal rationales that make you think that Israel is somehow the bad guy in this struggle.

They are not. Perhaps a bit stiffnecked.

But wrong? Have a little faith.

Bless the people of Israel, and be blessed.

Curse them, and be cursed.

THE REALITY OF EVIL

Remember when Hollywood movies were filled with good guys and bad guys. When composers wrote patrotic songs and stirring music about life in the military. That was back when the entire nation felt like it was at war.

Not just a miniscule part of the nation, but the entire nation was engaged in a cold war or hot fight against the bad guys.

Whoops! Did I say bad guys?

How insensitive of me.

I forgot that in the new American dream, bad is only a concept to explain something that doesn't suit our particular selfish sensibilities.

In the new American dream good and bad are relative terms that have no absolute meaning. The enlightened American is free to decide what 'right looks like' for themselves.

I may see a person's actions as bad, you may see them as good. Our university professors tell us that it all depends upon our point of view and social upbringing.

And because (they say) freedom means that a person has the inalienable right to blog their opinion, it naturally follows that a persons sexual expression or physical behavour can never be entirely judged as morally offensive.

Because who is to say what is rite or rong any longer?

Whenever there is a question or disagreement about human actions, the long painful, expensive and non-resolution resolution is found in our judicial courts that are choked with slick wordsmiths who manipulate the meanings of words to justify psychotic behavior, no matter how sick, demented or perverted it is.

This, of course makes the legal community very rich. They flourish in a judicial system that fails to define moral absolutes in categories of right or wrong.

So, we can no longer call evil for what it is: the enemy, the bad guys, the perverted among us.

Each expression would be seen as hate talk.

If we were to flatly condemned the masterminds of Al Qaeda or Hamas as evil, it would suggest that they were wrong in what they do, the way they think and the activities they engineer.

They would become violators of an absolute human moral standard which defines bad as, well. . . unwanted, vile, in need of elimination.

Or, to put it another way, that they were anti- correct, anti-right, anti-good, anti-Christ.

Last century, Americans weren't afraid to point their rifles at evil and say that we had an obligation to destroy it before it destroyed us.

They condemned men and women who gassed, shot, bombed and bayoneted the innocent.

The church taught that evil existed and that Christians had a moral obligation to defend the innocent from it.

Mom and dad knew evil when they saw it and called thugs, murderers, suicide fanatics, anarchists, traitors, sadists and masochists by name. They didn't justify them as people who were "just like us but with a different cultural outlook, philosophy or religion."

Their activities weren't defended by the American press or spun into an "insightful analysis" by talk show hosts.

The bad guys were understood as the embodiment of an evil that had taken a human form and had to be subdued, converted or cremated.

How frightening this is not the attitude we find in the politically correct dementia of America today.

Thank God that our grandparents knew evil when they saw it and they didn't need the snapping suspenders of Larry King to tell them what to do.

Thank God they were willing to take evil people by the nose and kick it them in the butt.

How will American's respond to the evil of terriorists we confront today after we have exhusted the men and women of our military is anyone's guess.

Pray hard!

We are about to find out.

COMBAT PATCHES

When I enlisted back in 1971, it was a big deal among soldiers to wear a combat patch on their uniform. The combat patch signified that you were a real warrior and not some “rear echelon muther fxxker" or rimmmph as we pronounced the acronym ~ remf.

Every soldier knows that you can’t get one for training, and you certainly can’t get one for ‘shoveling crap in Mississippi.’

You can only get one for doing time in a hostile fire zone and sacrificing the days of your life in abject loneliness, sorrow and dread.

My dad’s generation got theirs for action in WWII and Korea. Soldiers of the next generation earned one in Viet Nam.

If you want to find out the power of the word just call a veteran a rimmmph to his face at next year’s Christmas party and you’ll probably discover what it’s like to count stars laying on your back.

After Viet Nam combat patches slowly disappeared from the Army as the ranks thinned and America said good-by to another generation of combat soldiers.

During the Cold War entire careers passed without earning one.

By 1989 it was hard to spot an active duty soldier who had one. Oh sure, there were a few grizzled sergeant majors who were buck-privates back in the jungles and a handful of Rangers who had picked one up for storming the beaches of Grenada. But for the most part the combat patch had disappeared from the right shoulder of the troops.

Then, America invaded Panama and suddenly the combat patch was en vogue. Overnight, the PX and off-post surplus stores at Fort Bragg and Fort Ord sold out of unit patches as thousands of troops eagerly rushed to sew on their new 82nd Airborne, 7th Infantry Division, 525th Military Intelligence Brigade, COSCOM, SF and Ranger combat patches.

They were the first of a new generation of blood warriors. And for a short time they held the bragging rights. A very short time.

Desert Storm changed all that and the combat patch was no longer the object of envy as tens of thousands of soldiers sewed it on.

As our nation's leaders sent our military throughout the world during the 1990’s, soldiers were sent to places like Somalia, Haiti, Bosnia, and Kosovo.

Then 9-11 hit and soldiers began serving revolving tours in Afghanistan and Iraq.

The combat patch had come of age with a vengeance. And unlike the past, when it was a rarity to see a soldier wearing a combat patch, today there are divisions of young soldiers who are on their third, forth and fifth.

No wonder the Army recently changed its field uniform to include Velcro on the right shoulder sleeve.

It makes it easier for soldiers to rotate combat patches from among their growing collection.

I'M GOING BACK OVER

Got a postcard from an old warrior friend stationed Germany the other day.

It began, “Padre, I'm going back over in a day or two and wanted to let you know. . .”

In the small space that remained the writer went on to offer a prayer and a blessing.

Odd, it seems like I hear that phrase more and more these days,

“Padre, I 'm going back over.”

COLLATERAL DAMAGE

We spend our days meeting and training and meeting to train again.

For the soldier the time deployed will only be one year, but for the family it will be two. One year waiting while we train, and one year waiting for us to return. And then we will begin the cycle all over again.

In the meantime our children will grow up without us and our spouses will sleep alone at night clutching the dent in our pillow. They are the heroes who carry the burden of the family. Holding them together, encouraging them forward, whispering promises of better days and of future family holidays that may never come.

But for many the strain is too great and they silently disintegrate with each day apart. They speak in hushed tones of their tears, of the agony in the bedroom, the estrangement in their relationship and the certain divorce that will eventually come when they find the time to do it. But for now they are too proud to speak fearing that they will be seen as weak. So they quietly soldier on.

There is no talk in the higher circles of erecting a memorial to remember the uncounted victims of divorce that will result from this war. There will be no medals to honor the children who watched their dad or mom fade away. There will be no parades for the couples who grew apart and never fell in love again, yet valiantly stayed together in quiet resignation.

But we will remember.

OUR FALLEN HEROES

When death comes it is no stranger. It is always a shock, but never a surprise. For death patiently stalks us from the shadows that fringe our existence. It slinks through the network of our thoughts leaving wordless reminders of its reality. Occasionally, we are brushed by its veil as it passes by to claim a person we know. We shrink back, swallowing hard as it stirs the air.

For death seems ominous, capricious, and unpredictable; touching some, while appearing to leave us alone. But if we pretend it will go away by ignoring it with distractions or busywork, we are whistling in the dark. Because at the end of the night, when we awaken to the day, we know that death still waits. We have not escaped its hand; we have simply been passed over for the present.

Each ache and pain, every risk or accident is a reminder of our fleeting mortality. And we wonder when death will rise up out of our waking dream to call our name. For death is more certain than life and more sure than salvation. Death has call for every creature who has ever been, is living now or ever will live.

All die . . . except one.

And so, we go on about our daily lives waiting for an hour unknown with a tinge of apprehension and a trembling heart that says, “it is not a matter of if, but when.”

Yet, the real issue is not if death will appear, but how will we face it. This is the act of free will that truly makes us human and places us above all other living creatures. For in all of creation we alone are allowed to decide how we will face death’s sting. We alone are given the dignity of choosing the attitude in which death will claim us.

And so we must decide how we will live until the moment of our death. Will we recklessly ignor or defy death? Will we cower in denial and dread? Or, will we freely give our lives by being engaged in selfless service to others?

Jesus Christ, the very soul of God says, “No greater love has a man, than to lay down his life for his friends.” In these words we learn the divine standard for meeting death. In them we find the highest form of human expression and the supreme demonstration of individual character, for there is nothing more noble or virtuous than the expression of love found in a person who intentionally serves others. Especially when it involves special risk or sacrifice that might lead to their own death.

This is the kind of love that we observe in the men and women who have died serving us on foreign battlefields in the defense of our way of life. In these common men and women, we discover sons and daughters who left home and hearth, families and friends to follow their hearts in the belief that their single life could help to secure America’s future.

In these soldiers we find regular people who believed in helping the poor, protecting the innocent and defending the weak. It was in this service to humanity that they wanted to meet death. And in the end, they shook hands with death on their own terms, with the noble sacrifice found in their diligent service.

No, theirs was not a life taken, theirs was a life given. They were not tragic victims, they were intentional volunteers and thus heroes.

And in that way, they are forever our champions. For in meeting death on their terms and laying down their life for their country, they mirrored the love found in the pure heart of God who laid down his life for you and I.

In their burning light we are blessed to see a glimpse of the divine sacrifice and love that is the source of eternal salvation.

And so I give you the lives of these gallant American warriors as the mirrors of glory. Perhaps theirs was not as long or as full as some, but theirs was deeper and more profound than most. And in the heart of God, they have found their place.

As we reflect upon their passing, we will not remember their youthful sins, we will only recall their personal courage as they bled-out upon this earth in service to us. For true love is not a gush of emotion or weepy sentimentality. True love is discovered in obedience to the call of service and a humble devotion to the welfare of people.

These warriors have truly loved us. And we pray that every one has joined the great communion of warrior saints who now assemble for the first formation of a new morning. A day in which our Lord and King, Jesus Christ will triumph over all of death's history.

For we take confidence that the one who says “No greater love has a man, than to lay down his life for his friends” has received each of them as his own.

As you read this, take a moment to decide how you will face death and in what way you will live until that moment. For you cannot choose the hour or manner, but you can choose the attitude and outlook that you will have when it comes.

And may you always find the life of Jesus Christ as your model for living and your strength and hope in his resurrection and victory over death.

A LIFE'S JOURNEY

I was born into war.

All my life the United States has been fighting with someone. I came into the world during the Korean War, I grew up under the threat of the Cold War and I enlisted as a kid during the Viet Nam war.

Over the past twenty-three years I've watched my country fight in Grenada, Panama, Iraq (Gulf War I), Somalia, Bosnia, Kosovo, Haiti, Afghanistan and now again in Iraq.

Is it me, or does the greatest nation on earth always seem to be fighting someone?

I've heard all the reasons for sending soldiers to war, from liberating the oppressed to protecting our national interests.

But the best one I've ever heard came from a young soldier who explained to me that America is the only nation in history that goes to war to get someone to like them.

"We don't want their land," he said. "We don't want their women, we don't want their treasure, and we don't want their resources. We just want them to like us. . . and to vote. "

I don't know if he heard that from someone else or invented it, but it made me laugh. Because it seemed to explain the reason we go off to fight as well as any that I have ever heard.

Unfortunately, the enemy we fight today doesn't want to like us, and they don't want to vote.

They don't want to sing Koombayah with us around the campfire, they don't want to hold our hands and talk about NASCAR and they don't want to get naked and take warm showers together. They want us dead. . . Eliminated from the face of the earth.

Why? Simply because we are who we are. . . zany, naughty, irreligious, and slightly blasphemous. And that equates to a seething hatred that burns deep in their religious heart that will not rest until you and I and every trace of western culture is blotted from the face of the earth.

The culture they despise was spawned from the Greeks, refined by the Romans and inspired to greatness and power by the Judaeo -Christian religious worldview.

But to them, there is only one way of life for the world and that is the way of total Submission to God, the way known as Islam.

Compared to other conflicts, this one could make the English/French Hundred Years War (1337-1453) seem like a National Guard weekend drill.

MYSTICAL SPIRIT

I've been meaning to put together a cyber-journal for some time now. It's not that I think that I am especially profound, it's more for my own sense of waning mortality. One voice in an Ethernet of billions of voices. "So what?" The WHAT is my conviction that there is a guiding Spirit whose mystical powers and sacred activity occur through the pixels you see before you. It is not a new Spirit, but an ancient one. The same Spirit who used human speech to open the ears of men and women in order to quickened their imagination. It is the persistent Spirit who took the pen and flowing ink of scribes to transfer the wisdom of God. It is the gentle Spirit who inspired movable type and opened the mind of man to the world around him. It is the unfolding Spirit who speaks through the celluloid images of movies, the air waves of radio and the phosphorus of the cathode ray tube. It is the divine Spirit who touches our souls through the words we read, the images we see and the sounds that we hear. I am counting on this same mysterious Spirit to use these tiny pixels to reveal to us the mystical, the practical and the divine. How she does that, I do not pretend to know. But I know, she does. And so I write. How could I not?

IT BEGINS AGAIN

Last year I spent 12 months serving in Iraq.

This year I'll spend 12 months preparing to go back.

Next year I'll spend 12 months supporting those who answer their country's call.

I've got no complains, no bitches, no moans.

It's a privilage to be there with the troops.

I'm their chaplain, the one they call "Sky Trooper."