Certainly This Man Was Innocent

Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, and said, "Certainly this man was innocent!" (Luke 23:47) Lent is a season of repentance and forgiveness. It is a time for healing of the soul and making peace with God and one’s neighbor. Now, as we remember Jesus’ wounds that make us whole, I’d like to say a few words about forgiveness and the combat soldier. I’ll divide my remarks into three categories, and then draw some conclusions about guilt and forgiveness.

• Deliberately injuring the innocent
• Inadvertently injuring the innocent
• Injuring enemy combatants

Even if you are not a combat soldier, perhaps you will find something here that applies to your life, as well. 

Deliberately Injuring the Innocent

A combat zone is like no other place on earth. It’s chaotic, frightening and deadly. It can seem like no law – human or divine – could exist in such an environment. That is a false perception. Deliberately injuring the innocent, abusing them, exploiting them, mistreating them, stealing from them, intentionally destroying their property: these things are wrong in any environment. The only direction John the Baptist gave to soldiers looking for guidance was this: "No shakedowns, no blackmail—and be content with your rations" (Luke 3:14). Furthermore, adrenaline combined with anger can tempt soldiers to commit crimes they would not otherwise commit. It is essential to your humanity that you maintain your sense of human decency even when indecency seems to rule the day. If you are a Christian soldier, you know that God expects more of you than rampant lawlessness.

To those who have committed deliberate acts of wrongdoing, I appeal to you: turn to God and stop doing wrong. Jesus suffered and died for your forgiveness. It is safe to confess your sins to him. He welcomes the penitent back into his presence as a father welcomes a lost son.

Inadvertently Injuring the Innocent

The soldiers I know never deliberately injure the innocent. Inadvertent injury of the innocent, however, is a fact of combat. In the chaos of battle, it is not always easy to tell friend from foe. Rounds do not always land where we aim them. Sometimes, the innocent are just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even more indirectly, the innocent who befriend us may become targets of evildoers. Life itself may be harsh for those living where military forces are operating.

War sometimes hurts innocent people, and there is no use pretending that we do not bear responsibility for that. As I have said before, I will take responsibility for the innocent who are inadvertently injured by my actions, if those who do nothing to protect the innocent or establish justice will take responsibility for those hurt by their lack of action. Every choice has its costs; every choice takes its toll on the innocent.

Be that as it may, I still find the need to try to make things right. If I bump into you on Main Street USA, I say “excuse me.” If I knock you down, I help you up. If I accidentally crash my car into yours, I (or my insurance company) compensate you. Insofar as it is possible even in war, do your best to make things right with the innocent you injure, even if you didn’t mean to do it.

There are some, things, though, that you can never make fully right through compensation. Moreover, military service often makes personal reconciliation with those we’ve injured impossible.

That’s why, personally, I must take these things to God. When I accidentally injure the innocent and cannot make them whole, I have incurred a debt to God and humanity that I cannot repay. I need the grace of God to make me whole again.

Injuring Enemy Combatants

The intentional killing of enemy combatants is normal part of many (though not all) types of military operations. Do we need forgiveness for this kind of killing?

Dave Grossman ("On Killing") describes what he calls the "killing response," which is his term for the emotional reaction to killing another in combat (or law enforcement). Those who kill, even lawfully and appropriately, often experience apprehension as they contemplate the act. Some try to overcome their apprehension with bravado or rage. During combat, most feel very little. Their brains are too busy. The soldier's training kicks in; he more likely to survive if he doesn't get overcome by emotion and critical self-reflection. Following close combat, soldiers often feel a sense of exhilaration, sometimes followed later by a sense of remorse. We find this "combat" exhilaration in one of the most famous passages of scripture. In Exodus 15, we find Moses and the people singing for joy because "the horse and the rider he has thrown into the sea." The LORD, "the warrior" (Exodus 15:3) has triumphed in combat. Israel has safely crossed the sea but Egypt's dead are washing up on the shore (Exodus 14:30). Moses and the Israelites are ecstatic because:

He threw the chariots and army of Egypt's king into the Red Sea, and he drowned the best of the king's officers. They sank to the bottom just like stones. With the tremendous force of your right arm, our LORD, you crushed your enemies. What a great victory was yours, as you defeated everyone who opposed you. Your fiery anger wiped them out, as though they were straw. You were so furious that the sea piled up like a wall, and the ocean depths curdled like cheese. Your enemies boasted that they would pursue and capture us, divide up our possessions, treat us as they wished, then take out their swords and kill us right there. But when you got furious, they sank like lead, swallowed by ocean waves. (Exodus 15:4-10 CEV)

Perhaps that was the end of it for the ancient Israelites. For modern soldiers, however, I think that Grossman is right: a form of remorse often follows. You can find this remorse in the modern Passover Seder, which also celebrates God's mighty deeds in the Passover and Exodus. As the plagues are recited, the people at the table dip their fingers in the cup of wine and remove one drop for each plague. Most modern Jewish commentators say something like this: our cup of joy cannot be full because our deliverance cost the lives of others.

Let me take the case of a soldier who shoots and kills a suicide bomber on his way to a school full of children or a market filled with shoppers. The soldier here has done a good thing. Dozens will live because this soldier took the life of his adversary. Even this soldier (or a policeman in a similar circumstance) may tremble as he thinks about the life he’s taken. There is something unnatural about taking the life of another – and that is a good thing. Who would want to live in a world where life was so cheap that taking it meant nothing? Instinctively, we know that even when killing is necessary, it falls short of what God intends for this world.

Frankly, soldiers rarely see such a direct connection between their lethal efforts in combat and the good that may result down the road. Soldiers in World War II couldn’t see the free and prosperous Europe that exists today, nor could soldiers in Korea see the magnificent nation that South Korea would become. We fight to accomplish the mission we’ve been given, but there is seldom a straight line from today’s experience of combat to the positive ends we are trying to achieve. And while we take it pretty personally when the enemy attacks us or innocent civilians, we also know that the guy on the other side is also a human being. This death and destruction are not what life is supposed to entail.

Eventually, most soldiers work through the emotional and rational issues that killing enemy combatants create. Sometimes, however, they get "stuck" and experience feelings of guilt. Soldiers can feel guilty about killing, about feeling too little (as if they should feel more), about feeling happy, angry, relieved or out-of-control (as if these normal reactions were somehow sinful) or even about feeling remorseful (as if, "I must have done something wrong because I feel bad about it.").

For soldiers who experience the emotional reality of these feelings, it is not terribly relevant that they need not carry all of this guilt – that the world is marred by sin – that the use of force is sometimes necessary in this world – that the ultimate purpose of these actions is a greater measure of justice - that feelings of numbness, exhilaration and remorse are common experiences – that feelings of guilt are not the same as actual guilt.

All of this is true, and in the long run this knowledge may help the soldier come to terms with the combat experience. In the near term, however, soldiers who kill enemy combatants in lawful combat still sometimes need to come to terms with their experience of guilt, whether it's justified or not. To become whole, they need the grace of God and not just explanations.

At least that was my experience. I am a non-combatant; I don’t bear arms. Nevertheless, I identify with the soldiers with whom I went to war. When I returned from Iraq in 2003, it was singing hymns (through which I often wept), hearing the scriptures and receiving communion that became God's means of healing and cleansing.

The Guilt of Failure

Sometimes, a soldier’s guilt comes not from what he did, but from what he failed to do. Sometimes it was a failure to engage the enemy. Sometimes it was a failure to help a buddy, assist the injured or to save the wounded. Sometimes it was a failure to stop wrongdoing, or a failure to report it after the fact. Sometimes we fail due to fear, and sometimes we just fail despite our best efforts. In either case, we can carry around a burden of guilt because of what we failed to try or what we failed to accomplish.

These failures can create feelings of guilt, even if the failure was the result of something beyond the soldier's control. If I give first aid to a wounded buddy and he still dies, I might feel guilty about that even if there was nothing that I could have done to prevent his death.

These acts of omission and failure can be as powerful as any other source of guilt.

Two (or Three) Kinds of Guilt

Many psychologists talk about two kinds of guilt feelings: rational and irrational. Rational guilt feelings are those that arise from some wrong that I have actually committed. A healthy conscience should be troubled by deliberate wrongdoing. Irrational guilt feelings are those that that I feel when I really have nothing to feel guilty about. Combat reveals a third category: guilt about actions which on one level are relatively just, but on another level fall short of what we know this world is supposed to be.

This third kind of guilt applies to soldiers, but not only to soldiers. It applies to all of those who labor in positions of power and authority in this world. Bankers and businessmen, pastors and politicians, lawyers and teachers: we are all in the same predicament. We exercise our this-world responsibilities to the best of our ability, seeking both purity of intention and competence in the execution of our duties. We cry out to God and trust the grace God's given in Jesus Christ, for even our best use of authority does not measure up to God's perfect will for this world.

Insofar as our guilt is irrational, learning to think about it rationally is helpful. The ultimate solution to our guilt, however, is not in learning to think more rationally. Since it is God who ultimately judges our actions, it is the grace of God, and not logical arguments, which will make the soldier’s wounded spirit whole again, whatever the source of the guilt.

Let me add here, however, that combat affects the mind as well as the spirit. If you find yourself overwhelmed by irrational feelings of guilt, ask for help. If you are still on active duty, talk to your chaplain, your doctor or your psychiatric care provider. If you are a veteran, the same advice applies. Talk to the Veterans Administration or to someone else who understands. I know a pastor – a former chaplain – who has a group of combat vets who meet at his church just to talk. I think that's something I want to do in my church once I take off this uniform. There's help out there. Don't give up until you find the help that is right for you.

Forgiveness for All

There is no sin God will not forgive if we come to him in true repentance. Christ himself suffered cruel abuse at the hand of soldiers who mocked him, beat him, spit on him and nailed him to a cross, yet he asked the Father to forgive (Luke 23:34). To a bandit crucified with him, Jesus said, “You will be with me in paradise,” even though the bandit confessed that he was deserving of the death penalty (Luke 23:39-43).

Luke says that the centurion who recognized Christ's innocence "praised God" (Luke 23:47). He saw something in Jesus that gave him a reason for joy and hope instead of guilt and despair.

God offers his grace in Jesus Christ to soldiers in all their various needs. In this season, when we remember how Jesus offered his life for us, I invite you to turn to him.

Bind yourself to Christ and his church so that you may be made completely whole. To the best of your ability, make amends to those you have wronged. And if you have committed a crime, or are party to a crime, figure out how you are going to make things right with the law.

Cry out to the Lord. Pour out your heart to him and find a trusted brother or sister in Christ to share your pain. Listen to the words of life and believe them. And in the bread of life, taste the Lord’s mercy.

Let us pray,

Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen. Book of Common Prayer