Blessing the Bomb - Father George Zabelka

I'm felt compelled to post Father Zabelka's speech as a follow-up to my previous post. I hope that his words can reach out to the hearts of the Chirstian community, and call them back to Christ.

Blessing the Bombs
by George Zabelka
Father George Zabelka, a Catholic chaplain with the U.S. Air Force, served as a priest for the airmen who dropped the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945, and gave them his blessing. Over the next twenty years, he gradually came to believe that he had been terribly wrong, that he had denied the very foundations of his faith by lending moral and religious support to the bombing. Zabelka, who died in 1992, gave this speech on the 40th anniversary of the bombings.

The destruction of civilians in war was always forbidden by the Church, and if a soldier came to me and asked if he could put a bullet through a child’s head, I would have told him, absolutely not. That would be mortally sinful. But in 1945 Tinian Island was the largest airfield in the world. Three planes a minute could take off from it around the clock. Many of these planes went to Japan with the express purpose of killing not one child or one civilian but of slaughtering hundreds and thousands and tens of thousands of children and civilians – and I said nothing. As a Catholic chaplain I watched as the Boxcar, piloted by a good Irish Catholic pilot, dropped the bomb on Urakami Cathedral in Nagasaki, the center of Catholicism in Japan.

I never preached a single sermon against killing civilians to the men who were doing it. I was brainwashed! It never entered my mind to protest publicly the consequences of these massive air raids. I was told it was necessary – told openly by the military and told implicitly by my Church’s leadership. (To the best of my knowledge no American cardinals or bishops were opposing these mass air raids. Silence in such matters is a stamp of approval.) I worked with Martin Luther King, Jr., during the Civil Rights struggle in Flint, Michigan. His example and his words of nonviolent action, choosing love instead of hate, truth instead of lies, and nonviolence instead of violence stirred me deeply. This brought me face to face with pacifism – active nonviolent resistance to evil. I recall his words after he was jailed in Montgomery, and this blew my mind. He said, “Blood may flow in the streets of Montgomery before we gain our freedom, but it must be our blood that flows, and not that of the white man. We must not harm a single hair on the head of our white brothers.” I struggled. I argued. But yes, there it was in the Sermon on the Mount, very clear: “Love your enemies. Return good for evil.” I went through a crisis of faith. Either accept what Christ said, as unpassable and silly as it may seem, or deny him completely.

For the last 1700 years the Church has not only been making war respectable: it has been inducing people to believe it is an honorable profession, an honorable Christian profession. This is not true. We have been brainwashed. This is a lie. War is now, always has been, and always will be bad, bad news. I was there. I saw real war. Those who have seen real war will bear me out. I assure you, it is not of Christ. It is not Christ’s way. There is no way to conduct real war in conformity with the teachings of Jesus. There is no way to train people for real war in conformity with the teachings of Jesus. The morality of the balance of terrorism is a morality that Christ never taught. The ethics of mass butchery cannot be found in the teachings of Jesus. In Just War ethics, Jesus Christ, who is supposed to be all in the Christian life, is irrelevant. He might as well never have existed. In Just War ethics, no appeal is made to him or his teaching, because no appeal can be made to him or his teaching, for neither he nor his teaching gives standards for Christians to follow in order to determine what level of slaughter is acceptable.

So the world is watching today. Ethical hairsplitting over the morality of various types of instruments and structures of mass slaughter is not what the world needs from the Church, although it is what the world has come to expect from the followers of Christ. What the world needs is a grouping of Christians that will stand up and pay up with Jesus Christ. What the world needs is Christians who, in language that the simplest soul could understand, will proclaim: the follower of Christ cannot participate in mass slaughter. He or she must love as Christ loved, live as Christ lived, and, if necessary, die as Christ died, loving ones enemies.

For the 300 years immediately following Jesus’ resurrection, the Church universally saw Christ and his teaching as nonviolent. Remember that the Church taught this ethic in the face of at least three serious attempts by the state to liquidate her. It was subject to horrendous and ongoing torture and death. If ever there was an occasion for justified retaliation and defensive slaughter, whether in form of a just war or a just revolution, this was it. The economic and political elite of the Roman state and their military had turned the citizens of the state against Christians and were embarked on a murderous public policy of exterminating the Christian community. Yet the Church, in the face of the heinous crimes committed against her members, insisted without reservation that when Christ disarmed Peter he disarmed all Christians.

Christians continued to believe that Christ was, to use the words of an ancient liturgy, their fortress, their refuge, and their strength, and that if Christ was all they needed for security and defense, then Christ was all they should have. Indeed, this was a new security ethic. Christians understood that if they would only follow Christ and his teaching, they couldn’t fail. When opportunities were given for Christians to appease the state by joining the fighting Roman army, these opportunities were rejected, because the early Church saw a complete and an obvious incompatibility between loving as Christ loved and killing. It was Christ, not Mars, who gave security and peace.

Today the world is on the brink of ruin because the Church refuses to be the Church, because we Christians have been deceiving ourselves and the non-Christian world about the truth of Christ. There is no way to follow Christ, to love as Christ loved, and simultaneously to kill other people. It is a lie to say that the spirit that moves the trigger of a flamethrower is the Holy Spirit. It is a lie to say that learning to kill is learning to be Christ-like. It is a lie to say that learning
to drive a bayonet into the heart of another is motivated from having put on the mind of Christ. Militarized Christianity is a lie. It is radically out of conformity with the teaching, life, and spirit of Jesus.

Now, brothers and sisters, on the anniversary of this terrible atrocity carried out by Christians, I must be the first to say that I made a terrible mistake. I was had by the father of lies. I participated in the big ecumenical lie of the Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox churches. I wore the uniform. I was part of the system. When I said Mass over there I put on those beautiful vestments over my uniform. (When Father Dave Becker left the Trident submarine base in 1982 and resigned as Catholic chaplain there, he said, “Every time I went to Mass in my uniform and put the vestments on over my uniform, I couldn’t help but think of the words of Christ applying to me: Beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing.”)

As an Air Force chaplain I painted a machine gun in the loving hands of the nonviolent Jesus, and then handed this perverse picture to the world as truth. I sang “Praise the Lord” and passed the ammunition. As Catholic chaplain for the 509th Composite Group, I was the final channel that communicated this fraudulent image of Christ to the crews of the Enola Gay and the Boxcar.

All I can say today is that I was wrong. Christ would not be the instrument to unleash such horror on his people. Therefore no follower of Christ can legitimately unleash the horror of war on God’s people. Excuses and self-justifying explanations are without merit. All I can say is: I was wrong! But, if this is all I can say, this I must do, feeble as it is. For to do otherwise would be to bypass the first and absolutely essential step in the process of repentance and reconciliation: admission of error, admission of guilt. There is no way to conduct real war in conformity with the teachings of Jesus. I was there, and I was wrong.

Yes, war is Hell, and Christ did not come to justify the creation of Hell on earth by his disciples. The justification of war may be compatible with some religions and philosophies, but it is not compatible with the nonviolent teaching of Jesus. I was wrong. And to those of whatever nationality or religion who have been hurt because I fell under the influence of the father of lies, I say with my whole heart and soul I am sorry. I beg forgiveness. I asked forgiveness from the Hibakushas (the Japanese survivors of the atomic bombings) in Japan last year, in a pilgrimage that I made with a group from Tokyo to Hiroshima. I fell on my face there at the peace shrine after offering flowers, and I prayed for forgiveness – for myself, for my country, for my Church. Both Nagasaki and Hiroshima. This year in Toronto, I again asked forgiveness from the Hibakushas present. I asked forgiveness, and they asked
forgiveness for Pearl Harbor and some of the horrible deeds of the Japanese military, and there were some, and I knew of them. We embraced. We cried. Tears flowed. That is the first step of reconciliation – admission of guilt and forgiveness. Pray to God that others will find this way to peace.

All religions have taught brotherhood. All people want peace. It is only the governments and war departments that promote war and slaughter. So today again I call upon people to make their voices heard. We can no longer just leave this to our leaders, both political and religious. They will move when we make them move. They represent us. Let us tell them that they must think and act for the safety and security of all the people in our world, not just for the safety and security of one country. All countries are interdependent. We all need one another. It is no longer possible for individual countries to think only of themselves. We can all live together as brothers and sisters or we are doomed to die together as fools in a world holocaust.

Each one of us becomes responsible for the crime of war by cooperating in its preparation and in its execution. This includes the military. This includes the making of weapons. And it includes paying for the weapons. There’s no question about that. We’ve got to realize we all become responsible. Silence, doing nothing, can be one of the greatest sins.

The bombing of Nagasaki means even more to me than the bombing of Hiroshima. By August 9, 1945, we knew what that bomb would do, but we still dropped it. We knew that agonies and sufferings would ensue, and we also knew – at least our leaders knew – that it was not necessary. The Japanese were already defeated. They were already suing for peace. But we insisted on unconditional surrender, and this is even against the Just War theory. Once the enemy is defeated, once the enemy is not able to hurt you, you must make peace.

Militarized Christianity is a lie. It is radically out of conformity with the teaching, life, and spirit of Jesus. As a Catholic chaplain I watched as the Boxcar, piloted by a good Irish Catholic pilot, dropped the bomb on Urakami Cathedral in Nagasaki, the center of Catholicism in Japan. I knew that St. Francis Xavier, centuries before, had brought the Catholic faith to Japan. I knew that schools, churches, and religious orders were annihilated. And yet I said nothing. Thank God that I’m able to stand here today and speak out against war, all war. The prophets of the Old Testament spoke out against all false gods of gold, silver, and metal. Today we are worshipping the gods of metal, the bomb. We are putting our trust in physical power, militarism, and nationalism. The bomb, not God, is our security and our strength. The prophets of the Old Testament said simply: Do not put your trust in chariots and weapons, but put your trust in God. Their message was simple, and so is mine.

We must all become prophets. I really mean that. We must all do something for peace. We must stop this insanity of worshipping the gods of metal. We must take a stand against evil and idolatry. This is our destiny at the most critical time of human history. But it’s also the greatest opportunity ever offered to any group of people in the history of our world – to save our world from complete annihilation.

This article was originally published by Bruderhof.com. It is an excerpt of a speech Fr. Zabelka gave at a Pax Christi conference in August 1985.

On Death and Dying

My three year old daughter looked at me with her bright blue eyes and asked if I would ever die. Her Grandfather died last year and she understands that now he only lives in her heart. My dedication to truth (except in the case of Santa Clause and his annual voyage) led me to admit to her that yes, indeed, I would one day die. I added that we all eventually die, just like the flowers we pick for our home, and that one day after many many years (I hope) even she would die. Maybe this reality is too much for a three year old, as she responded by stating clearly that she did NOT want to die. I gave her a big hug and assured her all was well.

Her statement reminded me that this is part of what drives all of us to search for meaning in this brief existence. We know that death will come. It's arrival and method are unknown to us until the end. Life itself is ever changing and uncertain. Yet, for those of us that meditate regularly we find a place that seems to remain unchanged. It's the same calm place time and time again. There's a moment between the inhalation and exhalation of the breath, where thought is suspended and we feel an awesome unity with some vast unknown. Is this our true Self, this blissful Self that seems boundless? Maybe this is a glimpse of the Divine. Enlightened ones seem to have found a way to stay in this place even while participating in the mundane activities of this physical, space and time constricted, world. In that place there is no fear of dying or anything else. It's moment of both power and humility. I believe that Gandhi worked from this place. When you're no longer afraid of dying, or losing those you love, or losing your material belongings you can do amazing things. And when you've contracted yourself down to nothing you can expand your love to every sentient being equally. It's from this place that nonviolence grows. I believe that this concept, ahimsa, is the ultimate truth. This is where I find meaning.

Like my daughter, I don't want to die. I still have desire and fear. But I will continue my experiments with truth so that when the time arrives for me to travel that last moment alone, shedding this old coat of a body, all of my loved ones and all my possessions, I will be ready to donne the next or simply enter that blissful place where no breath exists - in the loving arms of God.

Human Smoke

I've started reading a book emphatically recommended to me by a physician from Iran that has taken refuge in our lovely city of Portland. The book, Human Smoke The Beginnings of World War II, the End of Civilization (2008) by Nicholson Baker, is filled with quotes by world leaders and excerpts from govement transcripts. There are first hand accounts from journalists and others speaking from all possible perspectives as this war unfolded.
If you're interested in history, power, politics or peace, this book is a must read. There are also numerous quotes by Gandhi, adding insight into the Indian struggles and success against the British Empire.
The opening quote of the book is by Alfred Nobel of the Nobel Prize. Speaking to his friend the Baroness Bertha von Suttner (a founder of the European antiwar movement)regarding his expolsives factories, they "will put an end to war even sooner than your congresses. On the day that two army corps may mutually annihilate each other in a second, probably all civilized nations will recoil with horror and disband their troops."
But the weapons continue to grow in number and magnitude of destruction. The targets of these evil machinations are no longer military but almost entirely peace loving, tax paying civilians. It seems that the goal of modern warfare is to see who has the most civilians left at the end as a determination for winning. The weapons not only maim and kill the living, but pollute with radioactive waste such that those left surviving will suffer for many generations levels of cancer and deformation in their young previously unknown. To kill even one person, guilty or innocent, is the deepest crime against the human soul. May we learn to save lives and save ourselves.

Ahimsa - Without Intent to Harm

The english word "nonviolence" suggests only a absence of violence, but the word ahimsa, technically meaning "no harm", also implies a principle much deeper, the principle of intention. As someone that teaches nonviolence and works very hard at living nonviolence I'm often asked how it's possible to live without harming any other living thing. What about plants? What about viruses? What about the ant my car tire crushes as I drive? My reply hinges on intent. It is not my intent when I get into my car to crush insects or cause them suffering. It is not my intent to kill viruses, but fortunately my immune system handles that without my giving it instruction.

But then there's gardening, and I, as a vegetarian, do love my fresh vegetables and fruits. This is were I must look directly at the questioner and wonder how the wholesale slaughter of millions of animals daily compares to farmers picking the fruits of the Earth. Slaughter houses are not only wretched endings of life, but also the most dangerous work for humans. As I take a bite from my apple I can taste the sunshine and rain, not blood and pain.

Nonviolence is so much more than a dietary choice. As we examine each product we buy we must ask ourselves what suffering is in this product. Was is made with the small hands of a child working long hours in a third world nation? Was it created in a process that generates toxic byproducts later dumped into the environment? Living nonviolently is not convienient, it's ethical.

Nonviolence starts in the heart, then expands through practice to the family, the community, to the state and ultimately to the world. The Mahatma opened our eyes to the possibilities and over and over again we see that the path of nonviolence is better for all of us. Think about it. Meditate on it. Be it.

Victims at Both Ends

On Sunday an armed man entered the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church in Knoxville and opened fire on an unsuspecting congregation that was watching their youth perform "Annie". Greg McKendry, 60-yr old board member, usher and loving foster father, placed his body in the line of fire to protect the children on stage. He was killed. Before the congregants subdued the attacker he fatally wounded another congregant and seriously injured five others. Due to the heroic actions of the congregation no children were injured and the attacker survived to live with his guilt over this cowardly action for the rest of his life. He had written a letter of intention that indicated his belief that he would continue the rampage until police shot him down. He mistakenly assumed that these "liberals" were as cowardly as him.
As one that teaches nonviolence I'm always curious as to what cause is worth losing ones soul over. There are causes for which I'd die, but no cause for which I'd kill - wisdom from Gandhi. So what was the cause this angry man was willing to shed innocent blood, to leave children fatherless and motherless, to leave parents mourning their children and to traumatize the young survivors witnessing this rampage. As news continues to trickle out it appears that this man, Jim Adkisson, age 58, was having difficulty finding employment. Instead of accepting the shortcoming himself, or blaming the current administration for it's shortcomings in domestic policy, he blamed the "liberals". Somehow these people who work tirelessly for economic and social justice were to blame for his discomfort in life, his suffering. I'm so glad that UUs don't come to church armed and that this man was spared his life so that he has the opportunity to ask forgiveness from those he's hurt directly. It is true that he has ruined his own soul with this act, but he can be redeemed if he's willing to take responsibility for his own cowardice and then ask forgiveness. He must learn to stop blaming others for his own shortcomings and suffering. It's a lesson we all need to study more deeply.
If he can be truly repentant with the family and church members he's harmed, than he may find himself the recipient of their love as he faces his decay and ultimate death behind bars. We must always remember that there are victims on both sides of the gun. This man will live inside the American penal system, corrupt and violent as it, it will be his retirement home. But UUs believe in the worth and dignity of every human being, and work toward restorative justice, so even though he will never be back in society he can be restored to his own heart and humanity if he can take the first step.
I couldn't help but recall the megachurch shooting in Colorado last December. I was so pained and angered by the killing of the young shooter, Matthew Murray, knowing that he did not get to face the tearful eyes of those he had harmed. This case was very different in that this young man had been raised in the very strict dogma of the evangelical movement. He was steeped in the psychedelic verses of Revelation, worrying more about the apocalypse than about where he was at that moment. Mostly he had been convinced that he was an abomination to God and would burn regardless of his actions while alive. He internalized these accusations, becoming the monster they most feared. He'd been drugged with numerous mood altering medications prescibed by his physician father. When he was ultimately kicked to the curb by his church and family, his supply of these drugs were instantly cut off. As we know from all the hype lately about teens on these drugs, the tendency toward suicide and homicide is greatly increased. There are always victims on each side of the gun. The same holds to the woman that killed Matthew. If she followed the teachings of Christ she wouldn't be carrying a weapon of death since that in itself reveals the intent to harm others. Worse, it shows an inablility to believe in a power greater than violence, even in a house of God. Maybe we need a campaign slogan for this, "disarmament starts at church".
My deepest sympathies go out to the families and congegants of both churches. May we hold strong to the teachings of love and restoration provided to us by all the great teachers and sages across time. Jesus tells us to love our enemies and to engage in meaningful suffering. To turn the other cheek, to be struck open handed as an equal not as a slave being struck by the back of the hand. Likewise Muhammad, Buddha and so many more showed us how to make the Kingdom of God a reality, but it's up to us to take that first step and take responsibility for our own action and not blame it on our neighbor.

Happy Holidays (Christmas, Hannukah, Solstice, etc...)

Having studied so many religious traditions in my life I feel very
fortunate to feel the real meaning of this season within me. It's a
time when the weapons and politics should be put aside and like the
Whos in Whoville, we should stand side by side sharing in the joy of
living in this most amazing place, planet and universe. We've been
given a gift, by who it was given depends on your religious beliefs,
but it is here and it is now. Whether we choose to throw this precious
life away by only hating and keeping ourselves separated by trivial
differences, or whether we can join together in the spirit of love is
up to us.

This last week has made it difficult to enjoy the season. Three Jewish men
were beaten in New York for simply replying to someones offer of a
"Merry Christmas" with their own "Happy Hannakuh". In the same week
our congress passed a resolution to "protect" Christmas as a Christian
tradition, more important than any other traditions followed by the
citizens of our country. It seems that Americans are growing further
and further apart. But maybe we can borrow some of the old traditions,
just for a couple weeks. Pagans believed that mistletoe had the power
to bring "Peace and Joy" and so enemies meeting under the mistletoe had
to call a truce until the following day. In Finland and Sweden the old
tradition of the 12 days of Christmas prevail, and any crime committed
during this time receives a stiffer sentence than is usual. So maybe
we need to have some resolutions to this effect so that Americans can
have at least 12 days of the year when we practice kindness and
compassion.

As I was getting more disillusioned about my countrymen, I came across a book call The Christmas Menorah, How a Town Fought Hate.
This children's book is based on a true story of just how courageous
and caring Americans can be. In 1993 a Jewish family in Billings
Montana placed menorahs in their windows. One night a brick came
crashing through their son's window but fortunately he wasn't in the
room at the time. The entire town rallied behind the family. Before
they new it, there were menorahs in all their neighbors windows, right
next to the Christmas trees. The local Christian clergy added their
support without hesitation. There was at first an increase in hate
crimes, including the destruction of the school's window which
displayed a large menorah in support of the family. But eventually
this community won out and the hate crimes disappeared. It brought
tears of inspiration to read that there are still communities like this
in my own country.

In honor of the brave people that have stood next to those minorities that
have been persecuted for their differences, Alexa and I will add the
menorah to our traditions. A couple of my Sunday school students are
in homes with both a Christian and a Jewish parent so I've been
learning a lot about how these two traditions can be mixed to deepen
the meaning of this holiday.

Below my signature is an interview with the author of the book (which is now also a play). This book will itself become a tradition for my daughter and me every
holiday and I would encourage any of you working with children to add
it to your repertoire so that maybe the next generation will be able to
enjoy our diversity rather than use it as a way to hurt each other.

We wish you all Peace, Love and Joy this holiday season, no matter what your tradition!

--

From Terri and Alexa

The Town That Fought Hatred

A true story about an American town has become a play that teaches children about goodness and courage.

By Janice I. Cohn

2005
Print Page

"On December 2, 1993, someone twisted by hate threw a brick through the
window of the home of one of our neighbors: a Jewish family who chose
to celebrate the holiday season by displaying a symbol of faith-a
menorah-for all to see. Today, members of religious faiths throughout
Billings are joining together to ask residents to display the menorah
as a symbol of something else: our determination to live together in
harmony, and our dedication to the principle of religious liberty
embodied in the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United
States of America. We urge all citizens to share in this message by
displaying this menorah on a door or a window from now until Christmas.
Let all the world know that the national hatred of a few cannot destroy
what all of us in Billings, and in America, have worked together so
long to build."

--Editorial, Billings Gazette, Dec. 1993

In a world filled with fear, how can young people learn courage? In a
world filled with violence, how can young people learn peaceful
solutions? In a world filled with religious and racial division, how
can young people learn unity and cooperation?

Children learn in many ways: sometimes by example, sometimes by the power of a
compelling story, and sometimes by the realization that human beings
can be capable of extraordinary acts of courage and goodness.

All three elements came together in Billings, Montana, during the holiday season of 1993.

No one knew why it started, but 12 years ago the town of Billings began to
be infiltrated by skinheads and members of racist groups. The tiny
minority of Jews, African Americans, and mixed-race families who lived
there were immediately targeted for acts of hate. Though the vast
majority of residents were white and Christian, they chose to take a
principled stand based upon their conviction that an act of hate toward
one citizen was an act of hate toward all. Many individuals and groups
rose up to respond. For example, the Billings Painters Union offered to
repaint for free any houses or businesses that had been spray painted
with racial or religious epithets. And members of churches with
predominantly white congregations came to the African Methodist
Episcopal Church to pray with black neighbors when menacing skinheads
began to show up at church services.

But then, as the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah approached, Jews became a special
target. Windows in Jewish homes displaying Hanukkah menorahs began to
be smashed. Jewish families were advised to remove their menorahs until
the perpetrators were caught, but they resisted. And so menorahs
continued to be displayed and windows continued to be smashed.
Ultimately, in a show of solidarity and support, tens of thousands of
Billings residents displayed paper menorahs in their windows.

What gives people the courage to fight against hatred and the wisdom to
understand just how important that fight is? What causes some
communities to come together when faced with acts of bigotry and
violence, while other communities split apart? In Billings, it was a
combination of factors including:

* A family, victimized by bigots, who spoke out eloquently and refused to be intimidated.

* A police chief who understood the
seriousness of hate crimes and was determined that they would not be tolerated under any circumstances.

*A lay church leader who remembered a story she had heard as a child,
about how Christians in Denmark led had stood against the Nazis to help
Jews in 1943, and used that event to help inspire her community.

* Clergy of all faiths who were committed to genuinely practicing what they preached.

*A newspaper that investigated and published the truth about local hate
crimes and then used its editorial pages to urge the community to take
a stand on principle.

* Town residents who were willing to learn from history and be guided by their own conscience and religious faith.

Along with many other people, I was deeply moved by these events 12 years
ago. As a practicing psychotherapist specializing in loss and life
transitions, I'd witnessed the power of courage and goodness firsthand.
I'd seen how those traits could enable individuals to surmount life's
greatest challenges. But here was an entire community acting together
on the highest principle of loving your neighbor as yourself. How did
this happen, and what could we all learn from the events in Billings?

My desire--indeed, my compulsion--to know more drew me to interview the
people in Billings and resulted in my children's book, "The Christmas
Menorahs: How a Town Fought Hate," published in 1994. Since that time,
in schools, churches and synagogues, I've spoken to thousands of
children about what happened in Billings and have seen how they've been
affected and inspired by this story.

Now more than ever, it's crucial that children learn true stories of courage and goodness. That
is the best, perhaps the only real antidote that we can offer them in
dangerous, unpredictable times.

I clearly remember discussions I had with youngsters in Billings in early 1994. Even in the early
elementary school grades, they were all aware of what had happened in
their community. "You just have to show people that you care," one
fourth grader explained to me. "If you don't stand up to bullies,
they'll just keep pushing you around," a fifth-grader stated flatly.
"We were scared," said another child, "but my dad, he said it was the
right thing to do."

The lessons of Billings can be taught in many ways. Sometimes heroism
consists of simply doing the right thing and setting an example by
one's everyday actions. When children see their parents, and other
adults, helping others, standing up for a belief and actively working
to improve their communities, it makes an impact - perhaps more than
people realize.

In fact, research studies focusing on people
who have shown extraordinary courage, such as the "Righteous
Christians" who risked their lives to rescue victims of the Nazis, and
civil rights leaders who fought segregation in the South, concluded
that many of these individuals were greatly influenced by the quiet,
everyday acts of kindness and goodness they observed on the part of
their parents, teachers, and neighbors.

Research emphasizes that it is essential for the adults in children's lives to
explicitly and strongly condemn acts of hatred, violence and bullying.
When parents and other adults fail to do this, children can
misinterpret their silence as agreeing with or condoning these acts,
says Dr. Ervin Staub, a prominent researcher at the University of
Massachusetts, who has conducted several studies in this area. "They
may assume," he says, "that their parents do not think such acts are
morally wrong. Even more troubling, they may come to the conclusion
that this is simply the way people operate and that evil, and a lack of
resistance to evil, is the norm in this world."

Hatred, intolerance and compliance with evil need not be the norm-that is the
enduring legacy of Billings. "We must constantly remind ourselves and
our children that what we become depends on what we believe," the Rev.
Robert Massie, formerly of Harvard Divinity School, points out in my
book, "Raising Compassionate, Courageous Children in a Violent World."
"If we believe the problems in this world can't be solved, the chances
are they won't be. If we believe that we can make a difference, then
that belief begins to come true, too. The amazing thing is that it
doesn't take very many people to believe in change, for changes to be
made.

"Think what our country would be like if families sat down and talked together
about how our immediate communities could be better, and what we each
could do to make that happen. If every parent asked their children,
`What do you think we should be doing as a family to make our
neighborhood better?' they would get ideas back. The more people
actually talk about what kind of community they want to live in, and
the more they visualize it and see what it might be like, the more
likely it is to come true."

On Dec. 2, 2005, 12 years to the
day when a cinderblock came crashing through young Isaac Schnitzer's
bedroom window because it displayed a menorah, I returned to Billings
for a very special event-the theatrical premiere of my children's play,
"Paper Candles: How Courage and Goodness Triumphed in an American
Town," which is based on "The Christmas Menorahs." For me, the play is
a natural outgrowth of my book, giving young people the
opportunity--through the dramatic process--to actually be a part of the
acts of courage and goodness that occurred in Billings. This is
important, because research indicates that children who are exposed to,
and participate in such acts, are much more likely to want to emulate
them in their own lives.

I wrote the play to be performed by children in upper elementary and
middle school, and it has been performed and discussed in classrooms
across the country. Afterwards, kids always share their feelings about
the events and the main characters. They often go on to talk about what
they could do to deal with bullies and bigots in their own lives, and
in their own community. As one child in Montclair, N.J., said to me,
"The important thing is not to give in...the important thing is not to
turn away."

In Billings that night after the play, a resident told me, "It's still a
little hard to grasp that we were starting a movement. We just wanted
to do the right thing."

A fifth-grader in the cast had known very little about the 1993 events until she did the play. "It was nice to find out about everything that happened. I started asking my parents
questions, and I didn't even know that they put up a menorah. I wish
they had told me that. I think it would have given me courage.now with
the play, I'm going to try to be a better person."

Perhaps we all will, as the result of the actions of one American town. As Rev.
Massie says, "If we believe that we can make a difference, then that
belief begins to come true."

You're so lucky I'm pro-choice!

I took my daughter to OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) a couple weeks ago. They have the biological life science displays back in place. In that section is an amazing display of the embryo development in the womb. All stages are represented. These displays are not wax mock ups - they're the real thing. These little clumps of preserved flesh represent contributions from hospitals and labs where a mother and/or her unborn met with an unfortunate end. Their end offers the opportunity for all to see what that amazing transformation within the womb looks like.

There are so many emotions surrounding the concept of innocence captured and floating in these jars. I couldn't help but wonder if they were the wanted or the unwanted, the loved or the hated. The pro-life advocates would insist that each of these jars were lost potential, worth more by far than the female host that carried them. And yet, when an unloved and unwanted child misbehaves or ends up in juvenile hall, these same prudent judges turn their vicious eyes of blame again to that woman. She is not only to carry the child to term, but then expected to bond with it and love it more than life itself. But the reality is that the female animal, human or otherwise, that is living under duress will not love it's offspring, but will abandon it. In nature a stressed mother will even eat her newborns. We suspect it's because she is herself starving, but maybe she is attempting to end their suffering the quickest way possible. But when a human mother is starving or scared she finds a toilet, dumpster or slave trader to rid herself of the unloved child. Or worse yet, she turns on the child and inflicts her own pain in very physical ways. Which animal is more compassionate?

Pro-lifers want to force life, no matter its level of suffering, on every human. If one is on life support they refuse to terminate it. You can beg for mercy but the pro-lifer will insist that you endure your evil fate. I used to watch the pro-life demonstrators at an abortion clinic in Florida and I noticed that they were always women and none of their faces looked like it had felt the grace of a smile in centuries. They were hard, angry women who seemed hell bent on punishing any woman that thought she might cheat God's punishment of Eve. I felt pity for them and anger at the same time. I recognized these women. It was the same face I'd seen in my childhood. My Mother.

My Mom is pro-life. One day in an argument she told me how I'd ruined her life. Years later as we talked about abortion she told me that I was "lucky she wasn't pro-choice". Hmmm. Lucky. How lucky was I to be reminded throughout my life that I was the unwanted, the unloved? I contemplated suicide from the time I was seven years old. Until I left home I didn't know that life could be good and full of joy. But I survived, and I found that there were better ways to live, joyful ways. But if it would have brought a better life to her, I'd have gladly given my life in a quick and painless abortion. It wasn't my choice, it was hers.

One day I will look into the beautiful, loving, blue eyes of my daughter and I will proudly say to her, "you're so lucky that I'm pro-choice" because I've loved you since the moment I felt your gentle spirit move with mine.