It is natural to worry about our children's safety. When they are newborn we check to be sure they are breathing more often than we admit. We tiptoe into the room as they sleep and watch to be sure we see the rhythmic rise and fall of their tiny bodies. As they grow and learn to walk and run, we follow close behind, ready to pick them up when they stumble and fall.
The fear of physical danger subsides as children develop and are able to take care of themselves, but is often replaced with the fear of emotional pain. We cringe at stories of teasing, bullying and rejection. Then, as they become teenagers, we worry about everything --- friends, driving, school, their judgment or lack of it.
Eventually we realize that worrying changes nothing and we learn to live with our worries without letting them dominate our thinking.
My youngest son is 19 years old and, like many 19-year-olds, he is fearless. He is returning to Gonzaga University in a few weeks to begin his sophomore year and is anxious to move into the dorm and meet up with friends from last year. He wants to join his roommate and drive from Southern California to Spokane, Washington, rather than fly. I am worried about him driving such a long distance but I have been persuaded that he is old enough and will be fine.
As I was fussing and grumbling about the proposed trip, it dawned on me that he could be in a uniform in the extreme summer heat of the Iraqi desert facing danger and death at any moment. I was ashamed for my worry over a driving trip through the Pacific Northwest. It also dawned on me to thank God that my worries were minimal in comparison to the worries of parents who have sons and daughters serving in the military in Iraq and Afghanistan. I looked at my son a little differently after this realization and have since spent time thinking of those parents who are living with the reality of having children in the war zone.
The war we are waging in Iraq is confusing. Trying to piece together the events that led to the war and the continuation of it do not add up in a logical fashion. CNN reports that as of August 5, 2005, 2,017 coalition troops have been killed. Most of these are Americans (1,825 according to the same report). On the CNN website the names and pictures of the dead Americans are listed. Seeing a face, reading the age, the hometown and the details of the soldier's death is sobering --- heartbreaking, actually. The cost of the war in human terms becomes real when the deaths are humanized, when they are more than numbers.
Hearing that 10 or 12 Marines died cannot help but make us sad; seeing their faces and learning a bit about their lives makes the loss feel even greater. Listening to their parents and friends talk about the losses is even more difficult.
It is fair to say that everyone supports the troops. They are our sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, husbands and wives. Supporting the troops, however, is different than supporting the war.
What if the names of soldiers who died in this war were read every week in churches across the nation?
It would not be necessary to repeat each name every week. For example, it is reasonable to take the names of five soldiers from the area that died and, for a month, offer prayers for them and for their families. Whether or not we knew them personally, we can still honor them as fellow Americans. The next month, another five families could be remembered. A few moments of extra silence during the petitions would certainly offer support to families who have lost a loved one in the war, and it might make more of us understand the reality of the losses.
There are those who say it is not appropriate for the church to address political issues. Praying for the dead, saying their names aloud, is what the church does. It is not a political gesture.
My son, the same age as many of the soldiers dying in the war, is relatively safe and I still tend to worry about his safety. What about the families with children far, far away living with the reality of death on a daily basis?
It seems that the right thing is to offer them much more visible and vocal support as well as more public prayers. Anne Hansen is a parent education consultant and a parishioner at Blessed Junípero Serra Church, Camarillo. Her e-mail address is familymail@aol.co |