Converting To Peace

In November of 1981 the bishops of the U.S. Catholic Church held their annual meeting in Washington, D. C. In his opening address, Archbishop John Roach, president of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, called the bishops to leadership in efforts to stop the arms race, ban abortion, and advocate for the poor.

"On a global scale, the most dangerous moral issue in the public order today is the nuclear arms race.... The church needs to say 'no' clearly and decisively to the use of nuclear arms," he said.

Later Archbishop Joseph Bernadin, chairman of the Bishops' Committee on War and Peace, gave a report on the group's work that carefully reiterated the church's historical teachings on war and its growing concern over nuclear war.

Among the 270 prelates making up the conference were Bishops Thomas Gumbleton of Detroit, Raymond Hunthausen of Seattle, Leroy Matthiesen of Amarillo, Texas, and Walter Sullivan of Richmond, Virginia. Each had made statements and taken actions that placed them clearly against the nation's policies concerning nuclear weapons.

In June, 1981, Hunthausen asked the Catholics of Seattle to think about refusing to pay half their income tax in protest of the amount of revenue spent on nuclear arms. Later that summer Matthiesen asked workers at an Amarillo nuclear munitions plant to consider finding other work.

While in town for the conference, these four bishops spent an evening talking to a crowded assembly hall at Catholic University where they responded to questions about their positions, faith journeys, and hopes for the church. Later that night, three of them were interviewed for Sojourners by Jim Wallis. Following is an edited transcript of their statements and the subsequent interview ("The Issue At Home"). --The Editors

Bishop Thomas Gumbleton: My position is simple to state: I am a total pacifist. I would not accept the use of any form of violence in my own defense. Of course we can never say for sure how we would act in all circumstances, but I would always try to reject violence. I feel that the Christian faith and the gospel message compel me to reject war--nuclear and conventional war.

Now, I know that sounds very simple, decisive, and definitive; and yet I have to say that I am amazed at myself because that's not where I started. I grew up in a typical Catholic family. I was too young to participate in World War II (I was in elementary school), but I can remember three of my brothers going into the service. I remember how hard it was for our family, but no one ever thought for a moment that there was any other option. A good Catholic made his contribution for his country and went to war. There was no question about it.

I later went to seminary, took all the usual courses in theology, and studied the just war theology briefly. I accepted it completely and preached it as a Catholic priest; when I was ordained I never had second thoughts about it.

In the '60s I was assigned to work in the chancellery of my diocese at the time that priests and sisters shocked a lot of people by being on the picket lines and in demonstrations against the Vietnam War. We had priests in our diocese who were opposed to the war and were going public, and it was getting to be a little embarrassing. Since I was the youngest priest at the chancellery, the bishop suggested that I could talk to them and ask them to back off a little.

So I tried; I went and visited these priests, and we got into some good discussions. Before I knew it, I began to understand what they were doing and why, and I began to change my thinking. Within another year or two I was on some of those marches and in demonstrations, and I was forced to think and pray.

An author who had influenced my life a lot in seminary was Thomas Merton. I looked at what he wrote about nonviolence. I had never really noticed it before. I searched Dorothy Day's works more carefully, and also the writings of someone who was a sort of a hero of mine, Gordon Zahn.

Surprisingly, in 1968 I was ordained a bishop. I got involved in the Bishops' Conference and pushed for statements such as the resolution of 1971 against the Vietnam War. Since I was forced into a more public position, I had to think things through even more carefully. Not only did I go back to some of the writers I had come to appreciate more, but I made a very careful attempt to search out the Scriptures. I came to a deep and firmly held conclusion that, in the words of the scholar John Mackenzie, Jesus taught us not how to kill but how to die, and he rejected violence for any reason.

I did not come to this conclusion quickly or easily. When I first took a stand against the war, I hadn't even thought about violence and nonviolence; I was against the Vietnam War on the basis of just war theology.

There is absolutely no question that the violence of nuclear war is beyond any rational understanding of even a just war theology. And so my position in regard to the nuclear arms race and the policy of the United States is consistent with my strong conviction about nonviolence.

But I would insist that anyone who is going to follow the nonviolent words of Christ will have to go through a spiritual conversion. It won't happen through logical argumentation. I thank God that to some extent at least that conversion has happened within myself. And I continue to pray daily that I will deepen in this conversion, because I am convinced that it is the way that Jesus leads us.

Bishop Raymond Hunthausen: I heard Bishop Gumbleton say that he is a total pacifist. I've never said that about myself. I've always said that I am a nuclear pacifist; but given our present world, it is unrealistic to talk about conventional war. So maybe it's time for me to say that I am a total pacifist, in our current global context.

I was in college when World War II erupted, and I saw many of my closest friends go into the military. I struggled to decide whether to go to seminary or into the military. I was involved in a civilian pilot training program, and I was excited about the prospect of moving into what the government called the secondary program. I wanted to do aerobatics, but it was clear that if one was in the program and the United States entered the war, one would automatically be in the Air Force.

My spiritual director helped me to see that I had to give my call and vocation to the priesthood a chance, so I opted for the seminary; but I would have to say that at the time I certainly felt keenly about going into the military.

I was in the seminary in 1945 when the atomic bombs hit Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I'll never forget that day, because I was appalled; I just could not believe what had happened, that there was an instrument of destruction as awesome as this bomb. I was caught up in a great turmoil wondering, worrying, praying about this, and I could not grasp that our world had totally changed.

Well, I was ordained and lived with this reality just like the rest of the world, and though I wondered about much of the upheaval in our world, I didn't do anything about it.

I was appointed bishop in 1962. Another bishop was working with the synod on a statement about the ICBMs being deployed in Montana. We made a number of such statements, the first public witnesses that I, with others, was willing to take. It frightened me to death. I wasn't sure of my position, and I had that sense of being unpatriotic. I also got involved in a counseling service for conscientious objectors.

I went to Seattle in 1975 and wasn't there very long when I was visited by a most interesting and wonderful person, Jim Douglass of the Pacific Life Community. A pacifist, he has written a number of books, taught in universities, and given himself completely to the cause of peace. As he talked I realized that what he was saying coincided with how I felt; but I wasn't doing anything about it.

On his third visit he said he was going to Washington, D.C., to be with a group of people who were fasting in prayerful resistance to the position the U.S. had assumed in being willing to take first-strike initiatives. I felt compelled to write to the priests of the diocese to cite that fact and to quote from something I had read by Father Dick McSorley, who had written in the U.S. Catholic that the taproot of violence in our society is our willingness to live with nuclear destruction. I wrote to the priests that we had to be much more serious about this in our own lives, our preaching, and our praying.

After that I was more willing to say something publicly on my stance, and I was invited into some of our parishes, particularly those in the military areas. I said yes to one parish council and discovered when I arrived that the hall was filled. That was a very interesting and important moment in my life, because I was able to discover the various positions and responses of people, and it helped me to understand the impact this was having on the people I was trying to serve.

I was invited by a Lutheran bishop to speak at a synod in Tacoma, Washington, in June of last year. I had a speech prepared that said something about the need to consider unilateral disarmament. A day or so before the speech, I decided to include something about taxes, because I had met a young man for whom I had great respect who was working for the Seattle Church Council, and I learned from him that he had been withholding war taxes for some time. He was very conscientious about it, very prayerful and serious.

Many people wonder how they might address the issue of nuclear weapons. Certainly we can pray and write to our Congresspeople, but sometimes people need to think about the implications in their own lives. So I spoke about withholding war taxes as a feasible strategy. I thought maybe my remarks would create a stir, rattle around Seattle for a couple of days, and go away. But they didn't. They stayed around. I must say it bothered me that the media picked up on the issue of taxes and lost the crux of what I really wanted to say, which was that the issue of nuclear weapons is one that prompts us to be men and women of faith and ask if we have put our security in our weaponry rather than in God.

Bishop Leroy Matthiesen: I count myself a real Johnny-come-lately to the issue Bishops Gumbleton, Hunthausen, and Sullivan have been involved in; but I really shudder to see the spectre of monstrous mushroom clouds over Pantex, the plant where all the nuclear warheads manufactured in the United States are assembled. I live 15 miles from it, and for 10 years previously I lived four miles away and never said a word about it--until August of this year. I have been thrust into the issue very rapidly, and my head is still dizzy.

I can't explain why I wasn't involved earlier. I guess I knew about Pantex. I knew about it during World War II when it manufactured conventional bombs and bullets. There's a nice sign near it on Highway 50 that says "Department of Energy Research and Development Division." You can drive by there without any idea of what's going on. I must confess that I suspected but never dared to ask.

I got into the issue very quickly when a permanent deacon of our diocese came to me with his wife and asked for spiritual advice. They had gone through the diaconate program and had studied the theological issues of justice and peace. They had both come to the conclusion that what he was doing at the plant was immoral, and they wanted to know what I thought.

Well, that sent me looking; I went back to the sources, and I was shocked to find that Pius XII had had something to say about the issue in 1942; Pope Paul VI, John XXIII, and John Paul II all spoke of it too--every one of them unequivocally condemned the production, deployment, possession, use, and the threat to use nuclear weapons.

Let me illustrate the moral problem. On October 31, 1981, the day before All Saints, there was a brutal murder next door to me. At four o'clock in the morning, a young man broke into our convent and raped and murdered a 76-year-old sister. The town was in shock, particularly the Catholic community, and we had a very emotional and soul-searching funeral service.

About the same time I read a story about Father George Zabelka, who was the chaplain of the men who flew the bombers over Japan during World War II. Father Zabelka has become a committed peacemaker. The pilot of the bomber that delivered the bomb over Nagasaki was Catholic, and Father Zabelka tells how that pilot and others came to him with problems of conscience. Father Zabelka said he knew that we Americans were killing civilians, but he never preached a single sermon against it.

The point of my story is that on October 31, 1981, one man killed one Catholic sister, and we were in an uproar in Amarillo. On August 9, 1945, a Catholic chaplain told a Catholic pilot and the other men that what they were doing was necessary; and what they did on that day was to wipe out three entire orders of Catholic sisters in 30 minutes.

What is the difference? Some say that the difference is that we saved many American lives by ending the war quickly--from which I conclude that American lives must be more precious in the eyes of God than Japanese lives. For me that settles the moral question about the use of atomic bombs.

Last summer I heard the announcement about the assembling of the neutron bomb. I thought it strange that nobody made a statement against a bomb that opened the illusion that we could have a limited nuclear war. So I made my statement and set out the moral issue as I saw it. Nuclear weapons throw out any concept of just warfare. They are immoral; and if that's true, then it's immoral for us to build, assemble, deploy, and threaten to use them. I called on the workers that were involved in building them to reflect on what they were doing, to consider the possibility of resigning and of going into other work.

Bishop Walter Sullivan: I come from Virginia, which has more military personnel than any other state in the union. The number-one industry in Virginia is the military. I take pride in saying publicly that I am not a pacifist. I got involved in the issue of nuclear weapons by accident. I was down at Virginia Beach sunning myself in 1971. I was preparing to talk to the Knights of Columbus, and during my stay at the beach I thought to myself, "I'll give a talk on peace." I started off by saying that Jesus is our peace and we are involved in a war that is tearing our country apart, and we ought to be concerned about it. It was a lousy talk, by the way; but by the middle of it I realized that I was giving everybody indigestion. The hostility got stronger, so I got stronger. By the end I thought the Knights of Columbus were going to draw their swords and come at me.

After 45 minutes of people yelling at me, a marine sergeant came up to me. He was the only person in that audience of 500 who said, "I want to thank you." I had spoken about conscientious objectors, and the sergeant continued, "Tonight you've saved for me my son. My son wants to be a conscientious objector, and I was faced with a decision about that. Now I know what I have to do."

That started me on the journey. I had for about 10 years been encouraging the peace movement but had never really entered it that deeply.

Last August I was back in Virginia Beach giving a talk on peace. The next day's newspaper headline was, "Bishop says nuclear arms are immoral." There's no question in my mind that we are dealing with idolatry of the worst kind by putting our security in nuclear armaments.

The church's teaching on nuclear weapons is the best-kept secret in the world. People didn't know where I was coming from when I spoke on war and peace. We have to link our faith with the question of peacemaking. Once you go to the roots of Scripture and to the person of Jesus, you can no longer tolerate nuclear armaments and the possibility of total destruction. There's no compromise.

Matthiesen: A growing number of bishops are becoming involved in the issue of nuclear weapons. They are examining their positions, and many are taking a position similar to the one taken by us here tonight. When I joined Pax Christi [the Catholic peace organization] in the spring, there were 16 bishops listed as members. I understand that before this conference began there were 52. Twenty bishops have made public statements calling for an end to the arms race.

Someone reported to me that Arthur Jones from the National Catholic Reporter was covering today's meeting, and his assessment of what went on this afternoon after hearing Archbishop Bernadin's progress report on a pastoral letter that will come out in November, 1982, on war and peace is that the ballgame is over as far as the church and the United States is concerned. In other words, the Catholic church in the United States will be a peace church.

Hunthausen: It was a very exciting afternoon. I felt tremendous support from most of the bishops. But we will be a peace church only if we as individuals are able to come to grips with what nonviolence really means in our own lives. It is not good enough to simply say what peace means. It demands a great deal of inward looking, of prayer, of letting go and acknowledging in faith that Jesus is Lord.

That faith begins with each of us individually, and it has to consume the church. Otherwise we are not going to be peacemakers, and we will not truly represent Jesus who is the Prince of Peace. I feel that our faith has to underlie everything we say on the subject no matter where or when we say it.

Gumbleton: The overall impression of the afternoon was that there was a very strong commitment that the bishops of this country are going to give leadership in this area of war and peace. And we're going to try to make the Catholic teaching as plain as it can be and commit ourselves to encourage that teaching in every church in this country. In every way that we can, we will be active in trying to influence the public policy of the United States in accord with the teachings as we put them together in the document that will come out a year from now.

I was much impressed with the report in the beginning when Archbishop Bernadin insisted that we have to build on the Vatican Council II document on the pastoral constitution of the church in the modern world. In that document the bishops of the council called for a whole new attitude toward war.

This is going to require a profound conversion. We will not be a peace church because we have statements. We will only be a peace church when every one of us has profoundly changed our attitude toward war, and that can only happen through prayer and deep personal conversion.

So I would make the plea, like Archbishop Hunthausen, that each one of us commit ourselves to the journey of conversion. Those of us in the military, those working in the arms industry, those of us who pay taxes that support these activities must look at our lives thoroughly and ask ourselves whether we are engaged in this conversion, which is not intellectual but spiritual. Only then will we have a new attitude toward war that will allow us to respond to what John Paul II has said in his peace statements. He says, "I invite all Christians to bring to the task of building peace the specific contribution of the gospel." And, "In light of that gospel, I plead that you reject violence."

The way of Jesus is forgiveness, love, and peace. And it's only when we bring the specific contribution of the gospel, the rejection of violence, acceptance of acts of love, that we have been converted--and we will be truly a peace church.

Sullivan: I'll conclude with a sign of hope. I gave a talk in Hampton about a week ago. A man came up to me when I had finished and told me he was an army colonel and that he agreed with everything I had said. Later I got a call from the fort and was invited to meet with three generals, who all happen to be Catholic, to discuss the issues. The colonel said to me on the phone, "I cannot tell you what a contribution you have made. It's the first time in the history of this fort that we are looking at weapons from a moral point of view. You have everybody down here talking."

Witness is just one aspect of the response we must make to the arms race. We should reach out in love and dialogue. I do believe there's a tremendous readiness to listen. I think it's the work of the Spirit.

Nuclear holocaust is five minutes away. But maybe those minutes are the graced moment in which God is speaking to all of humanity. We have no option but to go the way of peace. Maybe God is using this threat to give us the opportunity to recognize our common humanity, to bring us into the one world, the one community, the one family of God.

The Issue At Home: An Interview

Jim Wallis: A bishop has a great pastoral responsibility toward the people in his diocese. When bishops make statements such as each of you has, there are reverberations through the personal lives of the people whom you serve. What have been some of the responses and consequences of your witness?

Hunthausen: A gentleman who works at Boeing told me that he and several of his friends customarily arrived early at work to play cards before they went on the job. He said that he and the others haven't played cards since I made my statement. They've been discussing it and the implications in their lives. He was neither happy nor angry, but simply noted that it had forced them to see their personal responsibility, to examine their work and see how closely allied it might be with the nuclear effort.

Most of the letters I've received have been supportive. But some people I've talked to feel a deep fear that all they have worked hard for and acquired will be taken away from them, and they equate that with what they identify as a frivolous statement on my part.

I visit a different parish every weekend, and many people go out of their way to thank me for bringing up the issue. My sense is that my statement has provided a moment of challenge, and that was primarily my purpose--to acquaint people of the diocese with the realization that it is the responsibility of each of us to look at the gospel, examine its implications, and take a personal stance.

Matthiesen: The immediate reaction to my statement came in letters, which varied from calling me a traitor and inviting me to go to Russia and stay there, to thanks for raising my voice in a prophetic way. There was some shock and surprise, and also a lot of confusion.

One woman in our office used to work at the nuclear assembly plant. She said, "I don't know why the bishop made a statement like that; after all, the neutron bomb can destroy buildings and tanks and things, but it doesn't hurt people." And someone said, "I think it's the other way around," and her mouth just fell open. That kind of confusion is very common in our area.

But I detect a definite shift in people's attitudes. The mail is running overwhelmingly in favor of the stand--about 95 per cent.

A reporter from an out-of-town newspaper spent several days in Amarillo going into bars and restaurants talking with people. He came to me later and said I would be interested to know that there's a surprising amount of support for my statement out there. Even the people who disagree with my stand are doing it much more reflectively than they did before.

I was thrilled when some of the priests and deacons told me that peace talk is coming from the pulpits everywhere. Those who were concerned about peace have been released to talk about it.

Some of the Catholic people who work at the plant wrote to me and said that they disagreed completely with my stance. They believed that what they were doing was good, and they intended to continue. But I am told that the possibility of resigning is a topic of conversation among the workers.

Wallis: Approximately 10 million Americans earn their livelihood preparing for nuclear war. What about the workers who become convinced of the immorality of their jobs, but have families to care for and feel themselves to be without options? Can you imagine the church becoming a place of sanctuary, providing a pastoral community in which people who want to change their lives can find the economic and spiritual help to do so?

Hunthausen: I have a fund started to help such people. It's not very big yet, and it's a kind of a band-aid business. What if a hundred people needed that fund? Even if six people told me, "I'm leaving my job tomorrow, can you help me?" I don't know what I'd do. I would be forced to appeal to the larger community.

The church has got to take responsibility. It's one thing to talk about the morality of an issue, but we have a responsibility if we're going to urge people to change from the manufacture of military equipment.

Matthiesen: Most people who work at Pantex are not thinking that they are building weapons; they're working for a paycheck. And if we had something else for them to do, they wouldn't mind changing.

In Amarillo there was a big airbase during World War II --20,000 jet mechanics in training, with support personnel. A tremendous amount of money came into Amarillo as a result. Then it was closed, and I remember the bumper stickers: "Will the last person leaving Amarillo please turn out the lights." But people got together to do something about it, and the facilities were turned into a state institute where they train people in peacetime work. There are any number of like industries there now, and we're much better off than we were before. There are a lot more jobs for the local people.

Hunthausen: I have been invited to an open meeting of three parishes located four miles from the Bangor submarine base. The people there are either in the military or work in connection with it. It is significant that I did not force myself on these people; they invited me, because they want to know what I think.

Wallis: It seems that unless the church takes a leadership role, the prospects of a peace movement, let alone peace, in our country are small. That doesn't mean leadership by control, but by example, by sacrifice, by commitment and risk taking.

Gumbleton: I find most inspiring the fact that each of us here is committed to peace out of religious conviction. I agree that we won't have a genuine peace movement if it is not coming out of a deep faith. People have to be converted.

Matthiesen: We need to be aware that there will be opposition to the things we are saying. That is why we meet together, so that criticism doesn't throw us off our course or make us weak. Together we can make sure that we are ready to suffer, if need be. I'm not asking that we be martyrs, but if this thing catches on we're going to see strong opposition. So the faith basis for it becomes even more important.

Wallis: What do you think it means for the church to commit itself to peace?

Gumbleton: I think some people will be alienated by the changes and that there will be a splitting off; not that we want that to happen, but there will be a challenge to Christian faith.

Hunthausen: On the other hand, some young people have called me who identified themselves as former Catholics. They are now coming back into the church, because for the first time they see the church being relevant.

Matthiesen: The church's commitment to peace is going to create tension. Some will argue that the church should stay out of politics. But if the issue touches people on a faith level, individuals will have to deal with it at the root of their being. They will have to undergo some change in their lives. They will need to examine what that means in their relationship one with the other. It could have tremendous impact on family life if families begin to take seriously the church's doctrines on peace.

It is radical, which is the way the church should be. I think if the churches would do what they are called to do in this area, the world has to take it seriously.

Wallis: In the last decade, we have watched with a great deal of hope the conversion of the church in Latin America to the poor. A church that was once part of the ruling powers has become the victim of the same establishment. So by its conversion, the church is having its vocation radicalized. Do you see that happening to the U.S. church in its conversion to peace?

Hunthausen: You scare me. I really don't know, but it seems to me that that's the gospel.

It certainly would be hard for me to accept what was happening in the churches who authentically set out to be a peace church or a church for the poor but were satisfied with power and wealth and vested interests. That's the area where people don't want to be touched. If the church is opposing those interests, we have to expect to suffer some kind of retaliation.

Wallis: You each have spoken in a way that suggests that repentance in a nuclear age means non-cooperation. Would you comment on that and relate it to what you see happening as the church moves toward making a statement on a new position on peace in November, 1982?

Gumbleton: We are clearly committed to changing the present direction of our country's policies. The church has said that nuclear weapons are immoral, and yet we can tolerate this evil in our midst as long as we know that genuine efforts are being made to reduce and finally eliminate such weapons. But we seem not to have made any progress on negotiations. Therefore we can no longer tolerate our country possessing these weapons. It is our right and our responsibility to protest.

Jim Wallis was editor-in-chief of Sojourners when this article appeared.