A Dream

(SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE--)

The government is worried. Used to be that the churches were satisfied with issuing statements and declarations on world peace. Everyone knew they didn't mean very much; church members were as scared of the Russians as everybody else. Christians, too, wanted to hang on to the style of life they had become accustomed to in this country. They were as glad for the nuclear arsenal as the rest of us, no matter what their church offices in New York and Washington said.

Anyway, their denominational leaders had church money invested in the big weapons companies. They paid their war taxes and fought for power and influence just as hard as all the other lobby groups in Washington, D.C. The only real difference between the church lobbies and the National Rifle Association was that the churches couldn't deliver their constituency.

That was before it all happened. They say it's a revival--just like what happened more than a hundred years ago when a lot of Christians turned against slavery. Whatever it is, it's got the government worried.

Evangelists are springing up all over. They're preaching the gospel and saying that our country's nuclear policy is a sin. A sin, mind you, not merely a social or political problem.

It's idolatry, they say, to put your own nation ahead of the lives of millions of other people. They're going all over the country saying that to turn to Jesus means to turn away from nuclear weapons.

The Christians are no longer happy just to give the government good advice about international cooperation. They say they must first put their own house in order. Pastors are telling people that the Lord wants them to quit supporting the arms race. And the people are quitting.

They're calling it repentance. Engineers, businessmen, and workers have formed groups to pray and study the Bible on peace. They're telling their employers that they will no longer make nuclear weapons and that they will quit if their companies continue to do so.

This is presenting quite a problem for management. Many of these Christians are in key positions. Even after they quit or are fired, they keep coming back to talk to the other employees. Evangelism, they call it.

Christian scientists, researchers, and professors are saying that their God-given responsibility is to save lives and to protect the earth, not to destroy creation. They refuse to work on military projects.

Even in the military, Christian soldiers and officers are saying they won't use nuclear weapons. Most are leaving the military altogether. Many chaplains have been relieved of their duties after giving sermons on the need for peace.

For years, the Pentagon has been honeycombed with prayer groups. But their members never talked or prayed about their work before this. They thought politics should be kept out of prayer. Now they claim that their faith is causing them to examine their jobs. Many of the Christians on the inside are beginning to join the protesting Christians on the outside. They are vowing never to return to their former work.

There were always a few here and there who wouldn't pay their war taxes. But now there are thousands of Christians who have decided that taxes for war is not a part of what they should render to Caesar. Churches are holding workshops on tax resistance right after the Sunday school hour.

Most startling of all is the way that Christians are converging on nuclear sites all over the country. They call it moving the geography of worship and prayer. What better place to confess their faith in the true God, they ask, than at the altars and idols of the false gods?

No nuclear facility, military base, or weapons plant is spared the regular presence of Christians, especially at important dates in the religious calendar, and on August 6 and 9, of course. Whole congregations have come out. They call it their peace ministry.

Many of them have been arrested and charged with illegal entry. The Christians say it helps make visible what the government wants to keep invisible and make public what has been hidden from view.

But that's causing problems in the jails. These Christians go on having their Bible studies and prayer meetings inside. Some of them say that's the best place to have them. Other inmates are joining them, and some new groups have formed called "Prisoners for Peace." Even some of the guards have gotten involved.

There's trouble with Christian police who don't want to arrest their fellow Christians. Recently a judge broke down in tears, right in the courtroom. He said he would no longer convict anyone for protesting nuclear weapons. One prosecutor, out West somewhere, has dropped charges against Christians who were praying at a nuclear weapons plant and instead has filed charges against the plant for violating international law by making weapons of total destruction in his county.

Some of the churches have even made contact with Russian churches--bypassing all proper diplomatic channels. They say that Russian Christians are part of the body of Christ too. They claim their bonds with Christians in Russia are stronger than their loyalty to their own country. Maybe, they say, if U.S. and Russian Christians started to act like brothers and sisters, their governments might wake up.

Finally, they have told the government that it must stop the arms race. Just stop, they say. They vow to withhold all political support from any public official who won't promise to do that.

This has all happened because the Christians have the idea that their faith is tied up in this nuclear thing. It was a lot easier when they regarded nuclear war as a political issue, gave it to a committee, and had educational seminars on it. Now they worship about it, pray over it, and act like their faith is at stake in it all. They say that to follow Jesus is to be a peacemaker. The idea is spreading. And the government is worried.

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

This appears in the August 1980 issue of Sojourners