A Pathway Leading to Healing
This past week has been so peaceful and filled with so many joyful interactions. I love Holy Week; it is my favorite time of the year with Thanksgiving being a close second. I welcomed the week off from class, readings, and posts as I desperately needed the week to not be on a schedule. I have been struggling to keep pace with all the things that I am balancing. Last week felt like a recharge for me and Resurrection Sunday was the absolute best way to round it off. I reluctantly picked up The Good Kill Sunday afternoon and read it with more ease than I had anticipated. Honestly, the title had me a little concerned. Reading a book about killing, war, and the aftermath was not high on my list of things to do. What I discovered was that The Good Kill offered a lot more insight for me than I had anticipated. Mark LiVecche presents a critical perspective of the morality of war, killings, and moral injury that it causes.
I had a perspective of war and the aftermath based on what I have witnessed from veterans in my family. It was different for each person. All six of my Daddy’s brothers served and two never really acclimated upon their return and struggled with various vices. Both of my grandfathers served and although I cannot say for sure what effect it had on them, I know that they were hardened by the experience. My father-in-law served in Vietnam and suffered from PTSD throughout his life. What was common for all of them is that they did not talk about what they did, what they saw, and who they lost during combat. And it was understood that it was improper to ask. The conversations about their service were limited to the branch that they served in, the years of service, and the bases to which they were assigned. My father-in-law would often complain about the VA and the ridiculous wait times, but he did not talk about his years of service. I have also heard the Veterans in my family speak about the irony of fighting for a country alongside soldiers that treated them with disrespect because of the color of their skin. It always made me sad to think about what they experienced. LiVecche says, “Those who fight wars are intimate with the sight of smashed faces and the pulped stumps of blown-apart limbs.”[1]I knew that what they experienced was horrific in many ways, yet I never thought about the moral injury that they may have experienced. It honestly never crossed my mind. This book allowed me to look beyond my experiences and consider a new perspective.
LiVecche introduces the moral injury in a Christian context. “Many veterans are unable to reconcile such actions in war with the biblical commandment “Thou shalt not kill.” When they come home from an environment where killing is not only accepted but is a metric of success, the transition to one where killing is wrong can be incomprehensible.”[2] The difficulty of balancing what is a biblical mandate and what is expected of you to defend your country is a complicated reality that presents a moral and biblical challenge. Likewise, the commandment “Love Thy Neighbor” is also confronted as a moral issue in the act of war. The opponent is seen as an enemy and not a neighbor. As LiVecche states, “The image of the enemy-neighbor means that we never rejoice in getting to kill, but lament in having to.”[3] Our neighbors in the broader sense our citizens of the world who may not look like us or worship the way that we do. There is a reasonable assumption that they do not a have shared belief system. Yet the differences do not negate that they are our neighbors and doing harm takes its toll.
It is interesting that with each book that we have read, I have been able to find an area of growth in my own personal life. I have never thought of the moral injury that taking a life inflicts. I have pondered, prayed, and lamented over the senseless killings that happen in this country. I have spent a great deal of time praying as it is my preferred battlefield. Yet I have not once considered the people pulling the trigger are experiencing a moral injury or a moral bruise. I had not considered that doing something that is against a deeply held belief would possibly leave wounds. LiVecche says, “if moral injury comes from doing something that goes against a deeply held moral norm, then a moral bruise is what comes out of the shame of doing poorly what is morally permissible.”[4] I closed this book with a new understand of how we are all changed, bruised, injured by killings, by loss of life, by inflicted mortal injury. It changes us all in ways that we are often unable to reconcile. It changes the soldier, the police officer, the abuser, the abused, the innocent, the guilty, the clergy, the loved ones. None of us are immune to the pain and we all bear the responsibility to walk the pathway towards healing. The Psalmist reminds us, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds”[5] Loved Ones, God provides respite and healing, we have to be committed to doing the work.
[1] Marc LiVecche, The Good Kill: Just War and Moral Injury (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2021), 18.
[2] Ibid., 31.
[3] Ibid., 177.
[4] Ibid., 201.
[5] Psalms 147:3 (ESV)
About the Author
Jonita Fair-Payton
10 responses to “A Pathway Leading to Healing”
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Jonita, you write, “It changes us all in ways that we are often unable to reconcile. It changes the soldier, the police officer, the abuser, the abused, the innocent, the guilty, the clergy, the loved ones. None of us are immune to the pain and we all bear the responsibility to walk the pathway towards healing.” I appreciate that you point out the ripple effect of moral injury – the others who are affected by “pulling the trigger.” In this list of folks impacted by one hurting another, you mention the abuser. My first instinct was to butt against that. In my mind, an abuser is not morally injured because they (probably) weren’t doing something (abuse) that went against a deeply held belief system. In other words, their abuse of another didn’t rub against their morals or belief system. But the more I thought about it the more I realized that not all abusers WANT to abuse another. Sometimes, it is mental illness that causes it, sometimes it is that they’ve been hurt and are inflicting the pain they feel on others, sometimes the abuse is a fight response (instead of a flight response). This never justifies the abuse but it does explain how an abuser could be morally injured by the abuse they inflict.
What do you think about this?
Thank you for broadening my perspective once again!
I believe that any time someone inflicts pain and injury, especially mortal injury that they are left with additional wounds. It’s hard to conceptualize this with individuals that seemingly feel no remorse. I wish I had something more profound to say, but I don’t. I want to think about this a little more. Can we revisit this conversation?
Hi Jonita,
Thank you for telling your family’s story of military service. It’s hard to imagine that kind of impact on one family. I only had a great-uncle who served in Borneo during WWII and died of malaria, actually from sulfa poisoning which was the only treatment at the time. You made the following statement about the veteran’s in your family, “What was common for all of them is that they did not talk about what they did, what they saw, and who they lost during combat. And it was understood that it was improper to ask.”Why do you think that is the case? What might have helped your family members discuss their experience? Talking seems to be key to healing. Thank you for your families service to our country. I am sure there was added trauma due to the disrespectful way they were treated. I pray along with you that wounds and hearts will be healed.
I don’t think that there were adequate resources for trauma therapy for Black Soldiers. They coped in a way that helped them assimilate back into their routine or create a new routine. The goal was survival and not healing.
Thanks for your reflections Jonita. We Canadians have a fairly different worldview about war and a radically different relationship with guns than Americans do, so I was likewise a little apprehensive to pick up this book. Like you, I found it to be well-reasoned and learned some important things. As I read your post, another thought came to me regarding ‘moral bruising’. While it is clearly going to be an issue for the soldier having to do something difficult (if not wrong), I began to ponder whether ‘moral bruising’ to a lesser degree is a common part of life for all of us?
“I really wish I didn’t have to let that employee go, but I have to for the sake of the organization.”
“I know you need some help right now but I am totally maxed out and unable to meet your need….so no.”
“I know this is going to hurt you, and I’m sorry, but….”
Are all of these examples when we have to draw healthy boundaries, or make choices we don’t like but must make….examples of lesser moral bruisings we sustain in life….and perhaps more in leadership? Could that be why leadership is hard….because we have to make more decisions that we might not like, but know we need to make? Might that be why leaders are tired? We don’t have a massive bruise from the trauma of pulling a trigger but a whole bunch of little bruises from leadership?
Just some ponderings that came up as I read your post..
Yes Scott, I think that we suffer from moral bruising as leaders. The decisions that we must make are sometimes life altering for others (layoffs, demotions, firing). I always feel so depleted when I have to make one of the “best for the organization” decisions. I have recently started recording video messages to myself. I know it sounds a little crazy but it has been a Blessing. I watch a video of myself telling me that I can do these hard things, reminding myself that I have the necessary gifts to be successful, and few other important messages. It has provided a recharge for me in some tiring times. Whatever works… we need it. Leadership is hard on the heart.
Hi Jonita,
You wrote, “I closed this book with a new understand of how we are all changed, bruised, injured by killings, by loss of life, by inflicted mortal injury. It changes us all in ways that we are often unable to reconcile. It changes the soldier, the police officer, the abuser, the abused, the innocent, the guilty, the clergy, the loved ones. None of us are immune to the pain and we all bear the responsibility to walk the pathway towards healing.
When I was in South Africa I met an old friend from Turkey. He was/is a missionary, but the political climate in Turkey forced him to move his family.
Theunis said…Russ I suffered a loss. That loss translated in a form of PTSD.
You rightly bring any loss/trauma as potentials for moral injury or bruising.
My prayer is that the pastors in our cohort will help the men and women in their congregation, called to war, to put on the amor for their souls.
Shalom
Russell,
I have the same prayer. My heart goes out to your friend and his family. I pray that he finds peace and healing.
Thanks, Jonita~ For sharing your family history and your rich lineage of people who fought in wars. You wrote: “I have pondered, prayed, and lamented over the senseless killings that happen in this country. I have spent a great deal of time praying as it is my preferred battlefield. Yet I have not once considered the people pulling the trigger are experiencing a moral injury or a moral bruise. I had not considered that doing something that is against a deeply held belief would possibly leave wounds.”
What powerful insight and reflection! I wonder how others might respond if you posed this thought to them? Most of us haven’t considered that doing something against a belief would leave a wound. Might that be why Jesus was so concerned we visit those in prison and bring them comfort? I don’t know.
Thanks for your post!
Pam,
I wonder also! I hope to pose this question to my stakeholder group. It would be interesting to hear what the response would be. I will keep you posted.