Logan Laituri: Cobarde valeroso
6 de abril de 2008
Golpeamos con el pie hoy de la nueva sección de las entrevistas del manifiesto de Jesús entrevistándose con Logan Laituri.
JM: Hola Logan, nos dice un poco sobre quiénes usted es.
Bien, no puedo imaginarme el contestar de esa pregunta sin brevemente la dirección de quiénes era. Crecí para arriba adentro Condado anaranjado, CA, que a mí se parecía ser el capital del materialism del mundo. Siendo una clase media más baja, me sentía muy perjudicado. Mi gente hizo un trabajo impresionante que preveía nosotros, aunque, y caí en la rutina del grupo de la juventud después de que me arrestaran para robar en tiendas en 14. Mis padres se habían dividido y me sentía al parecer que era una gran manera de conseguir una cierta atención. Por cuatro años en High School secundaria, usé casi literalmente mi religión en mi manga; Lo puse encendido mientras que estaba en la iglesia y lo quité tan pronto como fuera casero. No me consiga el mal, amé mi iglesia (y todavía, vuelvo cada vez que soy casero), pero vi muchos de fe superficial, y realmente pensé que que era todo había a ser un cristiano. Mi fe era justa una serie de cosas que me no supusieron hacer (la bebida, humo, tiene el sexo, etc.). El cristianismo era una forma de vida simplista, restrictiva que seguí muy intermitentemente. Tomé esa perspectiva con mí cuando firmé para arriba para el ejército algunos meses antes de que graduara.
Pareciendo trasero en mi pasado, soy muy agradecido para las cosas que aprendí, las lecciones fáciles y realmente difíciles igualmente. Terminé mi obligación del servicio militar (MSO) hace algunas semanas, y estoy esperando comenzar la universidad la caída próxima. Mientras tanto, estoy trabajando para la paz de cada manera que puedo encontrar. Currently, I am employed as a developer for a very small but ambitious nonprofit. Additionally, I am very active in an organization called Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW), because as a Christian, I feel it is imperative that I reject war in all forms, and I also happen to be an Iraq War veteran. I might be a unique member in that I came to these beliefs not as some political reaction to the war, but as a direct response to the call of Christ to be nonviolent; to love, not destroy, our enemies. I always hesitate to call myself a pacifist, however, because the root of the word implies that such a person is passive. Nonviolence, and similarly Christianity, is quite a vigorous endeavor, far from being docile or merely a reaction to the culture around us. One should take close notice that in the Beatitudes, the folks who most directly reflect God’s character (who are called ‘children of the Most High’) are called to make peace (not keep, or enjoy or just promote it); to deliberately and actively create peace where there is none. I hope that I am known as a peacemaker, as a blessed son of God.
Yours is an interesting story. There are (thankfully) many peacemakers in our world, but you’re the first peacemaker I’ve talked to who came to their nonviolent convictions while enlisted. What led you to the conviction that you cannot love your enemy while trying to kill them?
The first time I considered that I might have the wrong take on the Bible was many months after I had returned from my combat tour in Iraq. I had met a family that really lived out the word of God everyday. They knew the Bible was not just a Basic Instruction Manual Before Leaving Earth (B.I.B.L.E.), it was a romance novel describing the dynamic relationship between the Creator and His creation. When I sought advice about various issues, the father of the family almost had a script it seemed. Every question I brought before him was answered by a simple “It’s about love Logan.” A four letter word contained the solution to every problem I could imagine. It seems a bit too simple minded, but in a world that is as individualized and materialized as ours, you realize that it really is very complicated to apply that ideology. Christ even said that we would be persecuted and cursed because of it!
When I began to accept the truth in what he had taught me, I knew I had to objectively consider whether I could fulfill that great commission while employed in very indiscriminate forms of violence as a forward observer in the US Army. When I returned to him to ask his thoughts on justice and war, the story changed. He expressed his belief that we were serving divine justice in the Middle East through our violence against Muslims. I had had discussions with other Christians within the military and heard similar thoughts, but none of them jived with the repeated exhortations by our King to love our enemy. Regardless of where I went with nonviolence, my mentor reminded me, he would respect and support me, as it was a decision he had never been asked to make, and he could sympathize with the immense pressure I faced in concretely answering no to violence and yes to grace. As much as I could explain the roots of the Christian practice of vicarious suffering (wherein we adopt our neighbors’ sufferings as our own, never forcing that yoke upon their shoulders), it will forever be a bit of a mystery, a sacrament of the Church, that must not be displaced from it’s centrality in Christian discipleship.
