War Between Religions

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Looks like a possible religious war in the middle east? I found this poem that may apply..............They said to me: "Thou shalt not kill," And well I understood. "Thy brother's blood thou shalt not spill," They spake, and it was good. And then I could not understand, Yet had to do their will; Cold steel they put into my hand, Saying: "Go forth and kill.

"Go forth with rage of race and slay; Pile up the corpses for What's murder called in Peace - alway Is hollowed in war. The Church has blest your bloody blade, The which in peace is cursed; So go forth, son, all unafraid, And do your bloody worst."

What's wrong in Peace in War is right, So I will do their will, And bear me bravely in the fight, And kill and kill and kill..... Yet as I brave the battle test With dripping sword in hand, Proving me equal with the best.... Christ, help me understand!

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-- Kirk Davis (kirkay@yahoo.com), October 23, 2000

Answers

Response to War

Pretty powerful stuff there Kirk. Brings new meaning to the word two- edged sword doesn't it?

-- Greenthumbelina (sck8107@aol.com), October 23, 2000.

Response to War

Kirk~ Have you ever read Samuel Clemens aka Mark Twain's *War Cry*? It is very similar to the poem above, and very powerful.If dh can find it I'll type it out here for you... And not all believe that what is wrong in peace is right in war...

-- Tammy~Gladheart Acres (AK) (heritage@mtaonline.net), October 23, 2000.

Response to War

Have you ever read Samuel Clemens aka Mark Twain's *War Cry*? It is very similar to the poem above, and very powerful.If dh can find it I'll type it out here for you... And not all believe that what is wrong in peace is right in war...

-- Tammy~Gladheart Acres (heritage@mtaonline.net), October 23, 2000.

Response to War

Tammy: If you can find it that would be great! I'd love to read it.....Kirk

-- Kirk Davis (kirkay@yahoo.com), October 23, 2000.

Response to War

Listen children, to a story that was written long ago about a Kingdom on a mountain and the valley folk below

On the mountain was a treasure buried deep beneath a stone and the valley people swore that they'd have it for their very own

Go ahead and hate your neighbor go ahead and cheat a friend do it the name of heaven justify it in the end

No trumpets will be blowing come that Judgement Day On the bloody morning after one tin soldier rides away

So the people of the valley sent a message up the hill asking for the buried treasure tons of gold, for which they'd kill

Came the answer from the Kingdom with our brothers we will share all the riches of our Kingdom all the treasure buried there

Now the valley cried with anger "Mount your horses,draw your swords" and they killed the mountain people so, they won their just reward

Now they stood beside the treasure on the mountain, dark and red turned the stone and looked beneath it... "Peace on Earth" was all it said

Go ahead and hate your neighbor go ahead and cheat a friend do it the name of heaven justify it in the end

No trumpets will be blowing come that Judgement Day On the bloody morning after one tin soldier rides away

-- kathy h (saddlebronc@msn.com), October 23, 2000.



Response to War

Wow Kathy that is great!! Barb and I have been busting our brains trying to remember where we heard it. Give us a clue? Thank you...Kirk

-- Kirk Davis (kirkay@yahoo.com), October 24, 2000.

Response to War

Its a song, I think It was In a billy jack movie. My daughter learned it in choir a couple years ago.

-- kathy hIt is a song, I think it was out of a biil (saddlebronc@msn.com), October 24, 2000.

Response to War

Here is something from Mark Twain, called "War Prayer", written around 1904-1905:

WAR PRAYER

It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.

Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation

God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!

Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory --

An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"

The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:

"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.

"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.

"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. the whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory -- must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!

"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever- faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.

(After a pause.) "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!"

It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.



-- Joy Froelich (dragnfly@chorus.net), October 25, 2000.


Response to War

Or perhaps this was the one?

Battle Hymn of the Republic (Brought Down to Date) (1900?)

Mine eyes have seen the orgy of the launching of the Sword; He is searching out the hoardings where the stranger's wealth is stored; He hath loosed his fateful lightnings, and with woe and death has scored; His lust is marching on.

I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded him an altar in the Eastern dews and damps; I have read his doomful mission by the dim and flaring lamps -- His night is marching on.

I have read his bandit gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: "As ye deal with my pretensions, so with you my wrath shall deal; Let the faithless son of Freedom crush the patriot with his heel; Lo, Greed is marching on!"

We have legalized the strumpet and are guarding her retreat;* Greed is seeking out commercial souls before his judgement seat; O, be swift, ye clods, to answer him! be jubilant my feet! Our god is marching on!

In a sordid slime harmonious Greed was born in yonder ditch, With a longing in his bosom -- and for others' goods an itch. As Christ died to make men holy, let men die to make us rich -- Our god is marching on.

* NOTE: In Manila the Government has placed a certain industry under the protection of our flag. (M.T.)

-- Joy Froelich (dragnfly@chorus.net), October 25, 2000.


Response to War

Hi Joy! Thanks for typing those out. Good stuff. I think I'll read up on Mark Twain. He was quite a character wasn't he?.....Kirk

-- Kirk Davis (kirkay@yahoo.com), October 26, 2000.


Response to War

Those were great joy, thanks for sharing them. The mark twain one gave me goose bumps.

-- kathy h (saddlebronc@msn.com), October 26, 2000.

Response to War

Kirk and Kathy, you are both welcome.

Kirk, I didn't type them, I copied and pasted (LOVE those features)! Yes, Mr. Clemens/Twain is a fascinating character. Just put in Mark Twain on a big search engine and you'll get LOTS of reading!

Kathy, the second was also by Mark Twain -- I forgot to put that in the post, sorry.

-- Joy Froelich (dragnfly@chorus.net), October 26, 2000.


Response to War

How's about this one:

WAR! What is it good for? Absolutely nuthin, say it again, AAAUGGHHH WAR! What is it good for?

-- Seventies Rock (onlytheshadow@knows.com), October 27, 2000.


Response to War

What is war? War is a plague on our humanity. War is a champion of our humanity. War is an example of mankinds' savage side. War is an example of mankinds beneavolent side. War is all emotions in play at one time. Most of all, war is the guage to measure peace by.

-- Jay Blair (jayblair678@yahoo.com), October 29, 2000.

Response to War

I found your discussion very much interesting. The song "One Tin Soldier," by Billy Jack, can be found at: http://Knights_Lance.tripod.com/viet_tin_soldier.html

I invite you to visit my, “Vietnam Picture tour,” from the lens and poet's pen of a combat infantryman. Take a walk through "the park" with the 1st Air Cavalry on combat patrol. http://PZZZZ.tripod.com/namtour.html My goal in writing today is to educate people who have no idea of the realities and atrocities of war...with the desire to promote peace. I wish the horror stories of what happened there to never die. I want them to live on in the telling and retelling until they become a firmly established part of our memory.

I served with B Company 2nd/7th 1st Air Cavalry '66 - '67, as a combat infantryman operating out of LZ Betty near Phan thiet in Vietnam's Central Highlands. I am a Vietnam poet, working in multi- media with the Internet, using colorful backgrounds, and haunting music that many veterans say reveal the anguished smell and textures and feel of war in Vietnam. I was the sports editor of my college daily newspaper (BYU's Daily Universe) when I was drafted...and like so many others, Nam changed the direction of my life indelibly and forever. Nam imbedded my soul with a new set of senses...forever. Many veterans have written me saying that for the first time in 33 years they read exactly what they felt, and for the first time they were able to sit down in front of the computer with their families and show them what war was like for them. School teachers have written me saying they think my "tour," should be required viewing for their students. I wrote this poetry because all the people of the world continually need to understand how important an event war is. War will always be a determining factor of not only who we are, but will determine our very futures, as well as the futures of our wives and children. I sincerely hope we will not doom our children to fight senseless battles as did we, shackling them to similar fates suffered by their fathers in the latest in a series of "war-to-end-all-wars!" If we do not learn the history of war, learning there is no glory in war...only death, destruction of values and misery, then we are doomed to repeat it! And the next war will inexorably come! Sometimes war is a necessary evil...sometimes not...sometimes there's Vietnam! My fervent wish is that there be peace evermore, and war-no- more! Vietnam combat vets have a lot of baggage they need to contend with, depending on how much blood they got on their hands...and how much of it was their enemies, their buddies, or their own. Combat Veterans of the Nam may or may not have been wounded physically, but have deep emotional, ethical and psychological scars. Most were just young boys who were naive and patriotically answered our countries call...made to kill and suffer killing, ravaged with the aftermath of learning hatreds and fearing. The skills of killing, Agent Orange and ptsd effect many veterans with life threatening maladies today. I also have been exposed, numerous times, to that chemical miracle wonder. There needs to be understanding, love and healing. Our nation must learn there is a better way to solve disputes. These are but some of my poems...I ask you to please read them before you judge: "A Combat Soldiers Prayer," http://PZZZZ.tripod.com/prayer.html "My Thousand Yard Stare," http://pzzzz.tripod.com/stare.html “I Felt I’d Died,” http://Knights_Lance.tripod.com/vietnamwarpoems.html “Soldiers Of The Wall,” http://pzzzz.tripod.com/wall.html “A Soldier’s Seven guardian Angels,” http://pzzzz.tripod.com/sevenangels.html "A Soldier’s Legacy," http://PZZZZ.tripod.com/warrior.html “Papason,” http://pzzzz.tripod.com/papason.html “Just Before The Battle Mother,” http://pzzzz.tripod.com/battlemother.html “i’m no hero,” http://pzzzz.tripod.com/hero.html

-- Gary Jacobson (pgriz@hotmail.com), December 12, 2000.



Twisting and Turning Memories

Let us experiment, or rather let us play a game together. We are going to look at this through a kaleidoscope of memories and imagination. Beware, while we look around, we will be able to handle colors, perspectives, sounds and time.

Through the lense you see a child. He looks real happy. School is over soon, Pools are open and Sunday BBQ's are waiting. He knows Summer is here! Finally he looks forward to freedom from this tough, harsh but-not-so-bad-year-after-all.

Twisting the lense twenty degrees to the right, a mother comes into focus. Her brother never came back from a distant war. She has two boys and a girl. All they know about wars is what they have learned at school. She looks forward to keeping it that way.

Winding thirty degrees to the right a veteran is restless. So many things he would like to let go from the embedded memory. Never the less, part of it was right after all. William McKinley said, "We go to war only to make peace. We never went to war with any other design." They fought for themselves but also for our sake. There is no right or wrong here. A time, a circumstance, a need, a leader.

One hundred and eighty degrees left. A stranger that is not from here. He asks,"Is it an American All souls Day?" He has simular memories too.

Twenty-five degrees more. There stands an Unknown Soldier. He wants to know if it was worth it. What would you tell him? No, no, do not answer before reading the conversation he had from his grave near the White House with poet Billy Rose.

Shake that kaleidoscope! Alot of activity is happening over there. `The queen has been elected,' the parades are coming together nicely and they are almost done with the pre-trial runs for the Indianapolis 500 mile road race.

Days of reflection challenge the conscience of individuals and communities. Remembering our past makes us sure we know who we are, where we come from, and where should we go, if we want to.

Thirty degrees more. The pieces come us one You know these people. Different memories and imagination become as one. It is you. What do you see?

-- Jessica Samios (lackadaisical_guru@hotmail.com), July 03, 2001.


Question! WHAT HAS THIS GOT TO DO WITH HOMESTEADING?

not that i have taken any offence at the content, but i am thinking that this is a prime example of how the boss of this forum shows his anti-christian bigotry. if this string were started by a christian, and simply included some christian scripture, it would have been purged immediately!

-- daffodyllady (daffodyllady@yahoo.com), July 03, 2001.


Gee, that thread was clear back in October, 2000. That was before everything started heating up. I don't recall that you were posting here at that time, unless of course you were using a different name then, so you wouldn't know. That's okay. We used to be able to discuss things without everyone getting all riled up. Speaking of which, however....

-- sheepish (the_original_sheepish@hotmail.com), July 03, 2001.

Sheepish is right. This was way before everyone was getting so carried away with the bickering. Always be sure to look at the dates of the threads when someone goes and opens them back up again. It happens all the time when people just find the threads thur a search engine. And please lets not call people names, especially when it's not true.

-- Cindy in KY (solidrockranch@msn.com), July 03, 2001.

-- daffodyllady----your remarks are out of line and untrue. It is the ugliness of your insinuations that made it so this type of thing could no longer be discussed on this forum. I suppose the moderators could go back and delete every controversial thread, but I hope not. They reflect a different time and are very much part of the history of this forum. I find it too bad that people looking for some sort of controversy keep dragging up the old threads and people like you have to jump on them.

-- diane (gardiacaprines@yahoo.com), July 03, 2001.

I thought the first writer was a Christian. As a Christian myself, also a pacifist & homesteader, this is something I have thought about and prayed over for years. I want my children to be able to farm, not go to war. I first read Twain's "War Prayer" years ago - it is such a powerful story I have never forgotten it. Everyone should read it. Dover carries a small book of mostly anti-war poetry, much written during the 1st WW. Sassoon's poems are really good. I wish more of this stuff would be taught in school - maybe more teens would become activists for peace.

-- Bonnie (stichart@plix.com), July 03, 2001.

Im sorry, I didnt realise the string was begun that long ago. I do enjoy talking freely about this topic. I am truely sorry I didnt look at the dates on those posts before I responded. I shall do so in the future.

-- daffodyllady (daffodyllady@yahoo.com), July 03, 2001.

The weird thing about religous wars is that they always appear to be between factions of the same basic religious belief.

-- john hill (john@cnd.co.nz), July 03, 2001.

John wrote "The weird thing about religous wars is that they always appear to be between factions of the same basic religious belief." It is often the case that small differences between like people(s) cause great friction.

-- Chris Hawkins (peace@clover.net), July 05, 2001.

By the by. The song "One Tin Soldier Rides Away" was sung by Linda Ronstat back in the last 60s/early 70s when she was still with the "Stone Ponies". Great song then and now. Thanks for the memories.

-- Trevilians (Trevilians@mediaone.net), July 05, 2001.

Of course, if you were a Pole, Russian, Ukranian,etc. and faced a Nazi Germany , that was only invading your country to establish a living space for their people and, planned to use you and your fellow people as slave labor before eventually doing away with your inferior "race", you might have had a different view of war.

-- Zrazys (zrazys@yahoo.com), January 07, 2002.

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