The Deadly Consequences of Making War ‘Sacred'

WAR-CULTURE IN THE United States is so pervasive and seamless that Americans struggle to see it, much less question it. More than $16 trillion has been spent since 2001 as “the calculus of 9/11 led to runaway growth in military spending,” according to the National Priorities Project. Forget Biden’s drawdown in Afghanistan and realistic proposals emphasizing diplomacy and economic cooperation. Secretary of Defense Lloyd J. Austin III declared in June that the $752.9 billion request in the FY 2022 military budget aligned with “the will of the American people.” What role do Christians play in this destructive reality?

Here is the problem: Religion and violence intertwine to fuel our ubiquitous war-culture. And in making war “sacred,” the death-dealing consequences are concealed from our consciousness.

Consider a common vehicle decal. A U.S. soldier stands silhouetted before an American flag shaped as angelic wings. The text reads: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13, ESV). Another popular meme says, “Remember that only two forces ever agreed to die for you—Jesus Christ and the American soldier.”

The decal verse is ripped out of context. Jesus’ soliloquy is on servant leadership, characterized by the loving washing of one another’s feet—not killing. Religious frameworks are hijacked to place a “sacred canopy” of meaning over the use of deadly force. For Christians, cognitive dissonance should abound. However, using the Bible to bless war is so common we hardly question it.

Are our churches teaching the gospel—that Jesus rejected militarized force (according to respected biblical historical criticism) and was executed for insurrection against the empire (even as he welcomed many of those coopted by imperial hegemony)? How can the nonviolent Messiah be conflated so easily with implementing the violence of war?

The widespread use of these idolatries dulls us to deeper awareness of how Christian symbols are twisted and weaponized to give a sacred gloss to war-culture. In the meantime, the phrase “thank you for your sacrifice” throws a silencing blanket over the unbearable losses experienced in war. Historically indefensible and morally misleading, these hijacked messages sacralize violence and distance us from the unjust and overwhelming moral pain of war borne by our military siblings.

Christians’ lack of awareness or willful ignorance results in complicity with the exploitation of religious language and symbols to conceal and justify a world of pain—the atrocity of military suicide borne out of veterans’ moral anguish; the destructive hold of military spending on all our lives; and the nearly 801,000 people killed by direct war violence in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Yemen, and Pakistan in the post-9/11 wars.

Instead of perpetuating lies about the meaning of war, churches could host gatherings on Veterans or Memorial Day to listen to the painful aftermath of war in the lives of service members, veterans, and war refugees. We might study moral injury—the life-extinguishing anguish that haunts too many veterans who betrayed their own moral compass or were morally betrayed by leaders and systems of war-culture in our own era of empire.

Sadly, “freedom isn’t free!” remains the uncritical mindset of a people who are “easy with war,” as theologian Stanley Hauerwas characterized Americans. Can we pay closer attention to Jesus’ active nonviolent resistance against empire to galvanize sharper awareness and protest today and deepen support for those bearing the greatest costs of our 20 years at war?

Peacebuilding starts with pulling back the “sacred canopy” shielding U.S. militarization and war and taking a long, hard look at the ways Americans have been taken in by a culture enthralled with violence. War is not sacred.