War is a no-win enterprise.

Of course, it always has geopolitical ramifications. A “side” can win in a narrow, technical sense. But this form of “winning” always creates future enemies, destabilization, and present poverty and death.

But let’s be frank.

There is no true winning when people die. We all lose. Our people, our communities, and our moral character.

Empires win—until they don’t.
Crumbling from the inside.
Warriors win—until they don’t.
A son of a murdered father always wants revenge.

War brings more war. So we all lose.

We make our words meaningless

To declare victory in any war requires us to redefine the nature of existence. Killing people becomes “a sacrifice”. And we must paint the destroying of cities, and the murder of whole populations as virtuous—to be “in service to our country.”

For winning to be possible, we must be willing to claim that starving other people isn’t torturous, violent, or of the same material as killing.

And so we define indirect killing to be of such a different fundamental character as to not count as having been killed at all. It becomes collateral damage, unintentional, yes. But more importantly, something different.

So they shut off the electricity—which deprives water and people die—deprives hospitals life-saving equipment—and people die.

Bombs destroy families, children, infrastructure, hope. And costs the next generations fortunes to recover what is lost today. If we don’t simply bomb them some more.

We do things. Things that kill people.

And yet nobody gets to be responsible. By design.

As if these are the product of war and war is inevitable. We include them in the equation but must exclude them from the calculus of justice. Write it off like a generous donation to a community aid group.

We treat the war machine like corporations dumping their waste in our water supply. Indirect deaths aren’t included on the balance sheet. So we don’t count them.

But someone else counting them—that would be political, they say.

Support

A Jewish friend shared a public letter by the Indiana Board of Rabbis condemning the silence of Indiana Christians in recent weeks. The letter asks for both support for Israel and to condemn Hamas. The letter also condemns the lack of unity with colleagues in faith at this time.

The letter broke my heart into many pieces. Too many to name them all. Nor would it help.

Because war is a no-win situation.

A right to exist isn’t a right to kill. Being a victim isn’t a right to victimize. It doesn’t really work that way. There can be no true winning because war makes victims of everyone.

We are a people of peace. It isn’t “bothsidesing” to work to end war. To silence the wardrums and demand mercy, not only from those we would call terrorists, but from those we call friends.

We are being asked to overlook core values by a friend. To overlook the injustices, refrain from just criticism, ignore extreme retaliation that is ten times what Hamas has done.

Friends are asking us to reject peace, endorse war, and follow our president—who is silencing all calls for peace from our government.

They are asking us to take sides against peace.

This isn’t winning.

We don’t get to claim that. At all. In any way. For any part of this.

None of it.

There is no winning in war. Only death. Only sin. Pain. Separation. Devastation and destruction.

Death all the way down.

We kill people. Or support people who kill people.

That’s what we have. All we have. But we don’t like it. Don’t want to face that.

So, what do we do with all of this killing?

We wipe it away. Call it “necessary”.

But that isn’t good enough for us. So we upgrade it to “good” and “righteous”. Call killers our heroes. To worship and idolize.

The dead stay dead.

And the blood on our hands doesn’t wash off. We just call it something else. Try to ignore it.

But it stays. Forever.

And the only thing we have is the hope of grace. That God will forgive us.

We want God to tell us we were good. That it was worth it. No other choice. It had to be done.

But God doesn’t offer that. God offers mercy.

There is no good in war. Only death. So mercy is the best we can actually hope for.

I beg we will have it. Amid all of this death. So much death surrounding us. Death we don’t want but think we need. [We never need it.]

May God be merciful on us all.