My primary work is with homeless people. Peace-keeping is my "hobby." But there is a direct link between my work at Operation Nightwatch, and the true cost of war.
We never really understand the cost of sending young men and women to kill people. Here's a story from Thursday night:
It was about 10:30. My friend Evan and I stopped by one of the shelters where we hang out. I wear a clerical collar in the normal course of doing my late-night homeless work. I'm not there to pound people or evangelize. Of course, I say that, but when you walk into a shelter wearing a collar, people want to talk.
Last night, a very-drunk shelter resident saw me. "Hey" he growled. "Read me something from my Bible." He staggered around the room, found his Bible. I opened it up to Isaiah 25, read something about fine aged wine, and thought I could have done better.
He flipped over to Romans: "If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved," he slurred. "Now you read something." I read something, then he read something, back and forth.
Suddenly, his boisterous gravelly voice grew quiet. Tender. "I graduated Catholic. Went to Penn State. Went to war. Now this," pointing to his Bible, "is all I've got."
The damage we suffer when we go to war doesn't end when the bombs stop.
Friday, October 7, 2011
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