"I Went to Church on Saturday"

by George Capaccio Capaccio@3b.com

George Capaccio returned from Iraq in January. This was his ninth trip since 1997. While there, he worked with the Iraq Peace Team, organized by Voices in the Wilderness. He and his wife Nancy will be going back as soon as possible

I went to church on Saturday. The faithful all were there. We filled the pews from Barcelona to Bangkok, from Peshawar to Paris. We had only one prayer. Peace. But what a mighty prayer it was. From where I stood, I heard it rise from the dead cold streets of Manhattan through the ever-so-sweet incense of our breath, above the many vaulted arches up and down First and Second Avenue. I saw it gather in the stained glass air and before my very eyes blend with a host of ringing voices. Peace, we cried to the heavens. Peace, we cried to the gods of war: Cheney, Powell, Rumsfeld, Rice. Peace, we cried to Bush and Blair.

Not in our name will you cast your paratroopers on Iraq liked drops of deadly toxins. Not in our name will you firebomb the beautiful, ancient cities of Mosul, Basra, and Baghdad with your massively destructive, satellite-guided cruise missiles. Not in our name will you slaughter the innocent people of Iraq the way you slaughtered them in 1991 and have kept on slaughtering them year after year with economic sanctions and drive-by, no-fly bombings. Not in our name will you poison the people, the land, and the water with uranium and God knows what other fiendish weapons

On Saturday we locked hands and hearts as one vast congregation, one indestructible united nation more powerful than the IMF, more powerful than the WTO, more powerful than the Pentagon and the UN Security Council, more powerful than the Cosa Nostra cabal of extremely dangerous, extremely heartless, extremely fanatic straw men and women running the show in DC.

They donÍt care about our own civil liberties so why should we believe they care about the civil liberties of the people of Iraq. They donÍt care about the welfare of our own people going down in unemployment, going down in retirement savings, going down in hope for their own and future generations. So why should we believe they truly care about the lives and the dignity of the people of Iraq.

They can talk till theyÍre blue in the face about that countryÍs hidden stash of WMD. When it comes to our own country, we know where to look for gargantuan stores of death and destruction--in the hearts and minds of our craven, warped, expansionist leaders whose hubris is boundless, whose bloody deeds shall carve for them only the most ignoble places in history.

On Saturday in the cold I prayed with millions. I prayed just by being there in the street with my brothers and sisters from Harlem and Chinatown, from labor unions and poetry cooperatives, from every city and town in New England and the Atlantic states, from every trade and profession that works for the common good, from every color of the rainbow, from every sexual orientation. We made a mighty roar standing together against the coming storm.

One united nation of decent, hard-working people standing shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart, saying no to war in every language of humanity. Pete Seeger sang ñOver the Rainbow,î and I thought I saw a rainbow arcing over the skyline of Manhattan with white doves playing in the fields of the wind, and I felt for the first time in many years that I knew what resurrection means: going beyond all the darkness there is in the world; going beyond the will to murder and do evil; going beyond our ancient tribal barriers and boundaries; going beyond all the things that keep us fragmented and divisive, and being born into new life as an indispensable part of the human family.

And I saw more clearly than ever before how the people of Iraq, however much we may despise their leader, are our brothers and sisters, our sons and daughters. We will not remain silent while our leaders attempt to destroy their country in order to save them. We will tear down the false reasons they have given us for the war they crave. We will cry out against the shedding of innocent blood. We will remind Bush and his partners and the media that so slavishly serve them that ñcollateral damageî means unconscionable carnage. Tens of thousands of men, women, and children mutilated and killed by bombs, shrapnel, and shards of flying glass. Hundreds of thousands more, mostly children, dying from water-borne disease and acute malnutrition in the aftermath of battle. Perhaps as many as a million Iraqis becoming displaced and homeless.

And we will not hesitate to recall the many who have already fallen from the effects of comprehensive economic sanctions. Our government deems sanctions part of a policy of deterrence and containment. We will call them by their proper name: a violation of the UN Charter, a violation of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, a violation of the Geneva Convention, and a crime against humanity that has claimed the lives of half-a-million innocent people, devastated IraqÍs economy, and stressed its society to the breaking point.

I went to church on Saturday. I prayed like I have never prayed before. I prayed that the people of Iraq shall be spared yet another American-led massacre. I prayed that all the nations of the world shall stand fast against the brutal policies of the Bush Administration. I prayed that even if war is declared our numbers will not lessen but increase as we confront and challenge those who seek to dominate the resources and the peoples of this earth. I prayed that a new vision of human life shall supersede and ultimately replace the values that guide our political and corporate elites.

Let them have their way and there is no liberty, no life they will not sacrifice in their reckless pursuit of dominance. We will prevail, I believe, only insofar as we root our struggle for peace and justice in the inherent worth and sanctity of every human life, in the principle of nonviolence, and in the body of humanitarian law that has thus far prevented a third world war.

I went to church, mister, and I heard the people sing. They were singing for life not death, compassion not carnage, peace not war. From Barcelona to Bangkok, from Peshawar to Paris, we let our voices ring.

Page created February 27, 2003 by Charlie Jenks.