BOOKS, FAITH, WORLD & MORE

PEACEMAKING–THE WALK AND THE TALK

Daniel Hertzler

Smoke Jumping on the Western Fire Line, by Mark Matthews. University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, 2006.

A Precarious Peace: Yoderian Explorations on Theology, Knowledge, And Identity, by Chris K. Huebner. Herald Press, 2006.

The Fragmentation of the Church and Its Unity in Peacemaking, edited by Jeffrey Gros and John D. Rempel. Eerdmans, 2001.

Of the making of books on peace there is no end, and probably there are more books on talking about than practicing peace. More talk than walk. Two of the three books in this review are talkies. Yet each in its own way makes a point worth hearing.

Matthews is a journalist, and a major source for his book was Roy Wenger, director of Civilian Public Service Camp No. 103, the smoke jumpers camp. After being interviewed himself, he helped find other interviewees and provided various resources, including his own three-volume self-published book. I found this fascinating material, although to follow the organization and the pacing was sometimes a challenge. Yet the nature of the book kept me reading, including even the appendix, which is made up of 42 letters written by George H. Robinson to his wife.

To provide background on Civilian Public Service in World War II, Matthews includes a chapter on "Conscientious Objection in America" and one on "The Historic Peace Churches" so that readers not familiar with these subjects can understand why a group of COs turned up at Camp 103 near Missoula, Montana, one of many civilian public service sites for conscientious objectors in World War II.

From here on he has the usual problems of how to organize the material, whether chronologically or topically. The book is one-third through before he introduces "Birth of Smoke Jumping" and nearly half-way through when the men are taking practice jumps. Because Matthews worked from interviews and personal recollections, he had access to anecdotes which he has sprinkled throughout the book. He also includes background material on various persons; in some cases more than I really wanted to know.

Among the more entertaining stories is the account of Florence Wenger’s experience. She was the wife of camp director Roy Wenger and dietitian at the camp. A well-built woman, five feet, four inches tall, and weighing 140 pounds, she wanted to jump on fires. She went through all the training exercises with the men but was not allowed by the Forest Service to fight fires. "No official seemed willing to take the responsibility for letting her go any further" (130). "In private, Florence expressed her disappointment, referring to the Forest Service brass as ‘a bunch of waffle-bottoms’" (131).

We learn that it was not until decades later, in 1981, that a woman was finally permitted to jump on fires. One Diane Shulman sued the Forest Service for the privilege. Matthews reports that "Before she died in 1989, Florence recalled, ‘I’ve always felt a bit cheated. I could have been the first woman smoke jumper. Alas, I was ahead of my time’" (131).

At the end of the book, Matthews observes that "smoke jumping remains one of the few environmentally friendly jobs that still offer excitement and romance to young people. Each spring the Forest Service is overwhelmed with applications for a handful of rookie smoke jumper positions" (269).

One of the points made emphatically in the book is that two minutes of romance in the air were followed by hours of grubby and exhausting work on the ground. Nevertheless, the last quote in the book is from Merlo M. Zimmerman: "Thinking back, what can compare to the foot on the step, the rugged mountain below, the tap on the shoulder, hit the silk. . . . You said it, ‘Life at its fullest’" (269).

The next two books both acknowledge their indebtedness to John Howard Yoder, a missionary for peace. He was also a missionary but become known for peace advocacy.

I seem to remember Stanley Hauerwas saying that Yoder "converted only one person: me." That was typical Hauerwas hyperbole. But it is interesting to notice that after Hauerwas left Notre Dame to teach ethics at Duke University, a group of young Mennonites found him there. Now they have published A Precarious Peace, described as Yoderian Explorations on Theology, Knowledge and Identity. This is the first in "a series intended for conversation among academics, ministers, and laypersons regarding knowledge, beliefs, and the practices of the Christian faith."

Like a number of Yoder’s own books, this one is a compilation of articles and speeches from a variety of sources. Hauerwas, who wrote the foreword, comments that "Huebner is a philosopher in theological disguise" and that "Huebner’s book should be impossible to ignore, not only because of the sources he engages but because he addresses the central philosophical and theological challenges before us." On the other hand, Mennonites may be troubled by it, because "Huebner is unrelenting in his attempt to unsettle the presumption that Mennonites have ‘got peace down’" (10, 11). So let us be worried.

In the introduction, Huebner acknowledges his debt to Yoder, quotes him repeatedly, and states his own effort as "an attempt to spell out and grapple with the significance of Yoder’s claim that Christian theology is not finally the expression of a preference for peace over against violence, at least if that assumes that peace is somehow intelligible apart from theological reflection and display."

The introduction closes with a Yoder quote summarizing the guiding principle for all of his theological work: "‘That Christian pacifism which has a theological basis in the character of God and the work of Jesus Christ is one in which the calculating link between our obedience and ultimate efficacy has been broken, since the triumph of God comes through resurrection and not through effective sovereignty or assured survival’" (31). If I understand this statement, it calls upon us to concentrate on obedience rather than in trying to make history come out right.

The book then develops in three sections: "Disestablishing Mennonite Theology," "Disowning Knowledge," and "Dislocating Identity." In the first of these, Huebner asserts that "the Mennonite church has always existed amid dual pressures toward closure and openness. It is doomed to being simultaneously conservative and liberal" (37). A good point. Why did I never think to say that myself?

At the end of the second section, he observes that

The third section includes a chapter on medical ethics in which Huebner features his grandmothers, one of whom contracted Alzheimer’s disease. The theme of the chapter is the importance of memory as in "Remember who you are," an exhortation to young persons to behave. One grandmother was inclined to lay this message on her children. But he asserts that the other one, who lost much of her memory, still "remembers it to the extent that I and others are there to help remember it for her. But that is, after all, as it should have been all along" (175).

In the final chapter, an epilogue sermon, based on Jesus’ triumphal entry and the Christ hymn in Philippians 2, he asserts that church should "be a place where we can be honest with one another, where we can be vulnerable to one another and in so doing become open to the possibility of forgiveness. But the great failure of the church is that it often ceases to be such a place" (211). Well, yes.

The third book is based on a consultation of the U.S. Faith and Order Commission of the National Council of Churches. The book is a reminder of why it is so hard to get a consensus against war among denominations. It reminds me of how in 1991 the World Council of Churches passed an action opposing all wars, then rescinded it four hours later.

The book is dedicated to John Howard Yoder, "Servant of the churches and their peacemaking calling and their unity in obedience to the kingdom of Christ." Essays from 11 persons represent 10 denominations. As the title indicates, the consultation was concerned with both Christian unity and peace, but the essays emphasize particularly denominational positions on war and peace.

Two essays by Mennonites are included along with writers speaking for Lutherans, the Orthodox, Catholics, Church of the Brethren, Quakers, the Reformed, Pentecostals, Baptists, and Churches of Christ. Such breadth resists generalization, but several things stand out.

One is a report by Mennonite John Rempel that when Historic Peace Church delegates urged on other participants the pacifist position, someone inquired about the practice of conscientious objection by the peace churches in World War II. "To the consternation of most of those present, the Mennonites confessed that just over half of their members had been conscientious objectors, while the Brethren had only 20 percent and the Quakers 10" (38).

But Rempel ends his chapter by asserting that "The movement in the World Council of Churches and various denominations to reassert the inseparability of ecclesiology and ethics and to take ethical heresy as seriously as doctrinal heresy provides common resources for peacemaking not just as an ideal but as a way of life" (46, 47).

The representatives at the conference write on behalf of characteristic emphases of their own denominations. John H. Erickson reports that "on the whole I would say that we Orthodox have tended to insist more on justice than on peace" (56).

Donald F. Durnbaugh provides a history of the Church of the Brethren leading up to their current emphasis on ecumenical relations. James F. Puglisi speaks on behalf of Catholics for Christian unity and peace. He proposes that "It is now up to the Catholic faithful to take up this challenge and begin to realize it in the daily living out of its vision" (102).

A well-reasoned statement is by Lois Y. Barrett, who joined the Mennonite church "at the age of 23, amid the Vietnam War" (168). She observes that "Peacemaking is not sustainable as an individual ethic; it requires a community. The church is a community where believers learn the culture, if you will, of the holy nation, the practices that make peacemaking a possibility" (178).

I find this of particular interest in light of Murray Dempster’s chapter "Pacifism in Pentecostalism: The Case of the Assemblies of God." I had heard that the Assemblies were once a peace church, had lost this position, and are in some quarters seeking to revive it. According to Dempster, the record is not quite what I had heard. He does report that in 1917 the denominational General Council took a position against participation in warfare, a position that was changed in 1967 "from one of pacifism to a position that enshrined ‘the principal of individual freedom of conscience as it relates to military service’" (138).

He cites evidence to show that the Assemblies had advocates for peace, "but at the practical level pacifism was a controversial position among the Assemblies of God denominational officials and pastors, at times even generating a divisive spirit" (142). So the Assemblies evidently did not succeed in developing a tradition of peace as a denominational position.

In the end, the consultation wrote a report with 26 points. Among those of interest are "17.D) Understanding of church and state continued to be matters of concern" and "18.E) Peacemaking would be furthered considerably if at least Christians could agree not to kill each other" (225). It is sadly ironic that even this cannot be agreed upon by the average church member. I am reminded of a report from World War I when German soldiers had Gott mit uns (God with us) on their helmets and some British soldiers responded, "We got mittens too."

Mennonites have a peace tradition. How to practice and pass it on is a continuing challenge, as implied by Huebner’s title, An Uneasy Peace. But it is worth remembering that in World War II some fought fires instead of people.

—Daniel Hertzler, Scottdale, Pennsylvania, reports that he has written for peace or against war in his monthly column for the Connellsville (Pa.) Daily Courier. A column on global warming was one of the few rejected.