Thursday in Easter Week

In the midst of life we are in death;
from whom can we seek help?
From you alone, O Lord,
who by our sins are justly angered.

Holy God, Holy and Mighty,
Holy and merciful Savior,
deliver us not into the bitterness of eternal death.
(The Book of Common Prayer, page 492)

The above words are taken from the second set of opening anthems appointed for use at the Burial Office. These anthems emphasize themes of God's righteous judgment and the utter dependence of human beings upon the largess of God's mercy. Given their content and tone, it's easy to see why they're not often recited at funerals these days. But, I believe the starkness of the language is particularly appropriate as U.S. Christians contemplate the continuing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Harper's Magazine offered the following "Wages of War" statistics in the February, 2008 issue:

$500 Billion -- Projected total cost of medical care for U.S. veterans of Iraq/Afghanistan.
1:1 -- Ratio of this expense to total military spending on both wars so far.
1 in 4 -- Chances an Iraq war veteran who has served 2+ tours
now has post-traumatic stress disorder.
102 -- Number of confirmed suicides in the U.S. Army in 2006.

The war in Iraq, now in its sixth year, has claimed the lives of 4,000 U.S. service personnel.

Earlier this week, The Cathedral of St. James in Chicago unveiled a tribute to those who have died in service of this country:

http://www.episcopalchurch.org/81803_95975_ENG_HTM.htm

I understand that the "justness" of this war and the circumstances that precipitated it continue to be debated. I recognize that people of faith have conflicting opinions. I'm fully aware that there is no clear-cut, direct way that would lead to an "immediate withdrawal" of the U.S. military presence in Iraq.

In the face of these complexities, I confess I have taken the easy way out. I have retreated into the safety of preaching a comfortable Gospel to a more-or-less comfortable congregation. A privatized faith may easily become a paralyzed one, but at least no one goes home from church angry and the operating budget remains stable. In the meantime, dedicated, honor-bound military personnel bleed out and die thousands of miles away from their loved ones.

I wonder. How does the Empty Tomb comfort those who have lost loved ones in Iraq and Afghanistan? How does that same Tomb confront preachers like me who fail to speak a word of life and peace in the midst of death and war?