Mennonite Weekly Review

Folk singer John McCutcheon, a favorite of Mennonite audiences, wrote a song in 2001 called “Not in My Name.” It’s not outdated yet.

“You see the plane in the distance / You see the flame in the sky / See the young ones running for cover / See the old ones wondering why / They tell us the world is a dangerous place / We live in a terrible time / But in Hiroshima, New York or Baghdad / It’s the innocent who pay for the crime.”

The chorus repeats: “Not in my name.”

Those words are still a peacemaker’s plea after the latest awful mistake in a war with America’s name on it.

In western Afghanistan on May 5, believing they had Taliban fighters in their sights, U.S. commanders ordered airstrikes on three villages. The Afghan army had been fighting the Taliban nearby. But by the time the bombs fell, witnesses said, the Taliban were gone. The poor farmers’ mud-brick houses in the villages of Gerani, Gangabad and Koujaha offered little protection. The attacks killed as many as 147 civilians, local officials said. U.S. officials acknowledged some deaths but said the Afghan claim was exaggerated. Women and children were among the dead and wounded. U.S. defense secretary Robert Gates expressed regret.

Horrors like these make Christian peacemakers want to shout, “Not in our name.” But how?

One way is to raise the voice of the church together. In April, Central Plains Mennonite Conference sent to President Obama two resolutions it passed last June calling for an end to the war in Iraq and a halt to U.S. military aid that fuels Colombia’s civil war. Conference leaders added a letter asking the president not to expand the war in Afghanistan.

By stating our disapproval, we say “not in my name.” But is that enough? Why stop with a negative word? Next should come something with even more impact: positive action.

This is where the ministry of Christian Peacemaker Teams comes in. Few of us will go to Iraq or Colombia — or to Congo or Palestine (where U.S. support for Israel makes Israeli actions virtually “in our name” too). But CPT workers serve in all those places and others. Walking with those who suffer, they show the peaceful face of Christianity. That’s in contrast to the violence that too often gets identified with both our nation and its dominant faith.

Today CPT, like many church-related programs, confronts a financial challenge. Unless donations rebound from last year’s 9 percent decline, the organization may need to scale back or suspend some of its work in Iraq, Colombia, Congo and Palestine.

“Must we postpone support for those called to full-time peacemaking while the rest of the world continues to provide financial support for people entering armed groups?” asks CPT co-director Carol Rose.

For 25 years, CPT has based its work on the premise that just as soldiers risk their lives in war, nonviolent Christians should face danger for peace. That powerful idea has grown into an essential ministry of the historic peace churches — Mennonites, Quakers and Brethren — along with like-minded members of other denominations.

Distancing ourselves from war takes just a few words. Aligning ourselves with peace takes positive action. Those who do that in our name need more support now.