The following is an interview with Abigail Disney, producer of the documentary Pray the Devil Back to Hell, which recently won the award for best documentary feature at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival.

What sparked your interest in wanting to make a documentary about Liberia?

The fact that the newly elected president of Liberia was a woman was notable, especially since the continent had had so few women in leadership, and that women had been so peculiarly and sadistically targeted during their war. I knew there had to be a backstory. She hadn't just arisen spontaneously.

How were Christian and Muslim women able to come together for a common cause?

They were all so completely fed up with war that they were willing to overcome their reluctance. There was some mistrust at first, but the longer they spent time together in prayer and fasting the more they came to understand and empathize with each other. Friendships were forged on the field that will exist for a long time—it is quite possible that the nature of the relationship between Christian and Muslim was forever changed in Liberia.

Elaborate on the role that religious leaders played in helping to bring about peace to Liberia.

While it may seem unlikely, the fact is that the warlords and even Charles Taylor were quite religious. Religious leaders therefore were among the only people who could influence them, even in the chaotic atmosphere of war. But women were dissatisfied with the limited way in which the religious leaders wielded that influence. So the campaign really began with the women bringing pressure on the leaders via their religious confidants. This pressure ultimately was one of the reasons Taylor and the rebels decided to come to peace talks in Ghana.

How did prayer inform these women's social justice actions?

All of the women in this film were deeply, deeply religious and believed with all of their hearts and minds in the power of prayer to influence events and people. This was a critical aspect of their plan, and a big part of what made them so tenacious and persistent in their protests. But more than this, prayer was a source of personal strength to each of the women. They gained strength through their individual practice of prayer, but also the communal practice of prayer was an extraordinary glue that held the group together in spite of all kinds of pressures to pull them apart.

Explain the significance of the Lutheran church that you filmed for this documentary.

St. Peter's Lutheran Church was the scene of the first organizing meeting for the Christian Women's Peace Initiative, early in the film. In 1989, however, that church was also the scene of one of the most horrific massacres in the pre-war period. Samuel Doe's army, in anticipation of Charles Taylor's assault on Monrovia, went into the church and slaughtered more than 600 members of a rival ethnic group in a single night. The candlelight vigil in the middle of the film takes place on the church compound on top of the mass grave that contains most of those bodies. The church was and still is the church that Leymah Gbowee attended, and a source of great strength and counsel to her. It was also through the Lutheran Church that WIPNET, her organization, got offices and also got its first international donations.

Why is Leymah Gbowee the focal character of your story?

Everyone acknowledged her to be the leader and the face of the peace movement. But more than this, Leymah was so clearly charismatic, articulate, and genuine that I knew that a film with her at the center could not fail to be compelling. She is one of the most gifted people I have ever met.

What can we do to enable this change to continue without imposing our Western values on this culture?

I think you are precisely right here. Why do we insist on imposing "solutions" that are always at best temporary, and at worst impractical and even disrespectful to indigenous cultures? I think at heart we are sometimes deeply mistrustful of the competence of indigenous cultures to find their own answers. And when we impose programs, very often we do so in such a manner as to set them hunting for external money that is scarce, inadequate, and hard to get. The answer is to do some better listening. As people coming in from the global North we need to arrive in places with a little less confidence in our "answers" and a little more confidence in the people we are there to serve. People aren't poor because they don't have values, don't have smarts, don't have gumption—people are poor because they don't have money. We need to recognize that most of the "resources" needed to fight the world's problems are also the victims of those problems.

What's been the response when you've shown this film?

The response has been overwhelmingly emotional, connected, and positive. And this is not just from people in the U.S. We have already shown the film in many countries to women's groups and the response has been so moving. Women in Iraq wept when they saw it, and immediately asked how many copies they could make so as to make sure that it is shown in people's homes all over the country. Women from Sudan e-mailed us to say that they felt sure that lives were being changed by the dialogues the film had sparked. In Tblisi, Georgia, women sat down immediately after the film and wrote up a Peace Agenda that is now making its way around the country for women's signatures. What is remarkable is the way that so many women were already poised to work together for peace—all the film does is remind them how powerful they are when they work together. It is a spark of faith in dark times.

What are the future plans for this documentary and how can interested churches and nonprofits arrange for showings of this film?

We hope to work with churches and other religious organizations along with youth groups, women's organizations, and other interested partners to get the film seen far and wide. At the moment we are still forming distribution plans, but churches that are interested in seeing the film should go to our Web site and give us their information so that when we are set up for distribution we can get in touch with them.

Becky Garrison was cited by Publishers Weekly as one of  "four evangelicals with fresh views," alongside Jim Wallis, Shane Claiborne, and Ron Sider.

In our little circles, we've been talking a lot about the need to create new holidays and rituals of remembrance as a Church–this peculiar, set-apart people of God. The early Christians talked a lot about how they no longer celebrated the "festivals of the Caesars" or the holidays of the empire, but had new eyes through which they looked at the world (this is a major theme of our new book Jesus for President). They had a new calendar. They had new heroes and sheroes (not just kings and presidents and fallen warriors). And they had new liturgies and songs. That's what Holy Week is all about, a new holiday–Easter is our President's Day. And our Holy Week here in Philly was magnificent, a stunning celebration of the Commander-in-Chief who loved His enemies so much He died for them.

One of the highlights was Good Friday at Lockheed Martin.

My mom and pop came into town. On Good Friday my mother and I went to a worshipful vigil–walking the stations of the cross, remembering the sufferings of Jesus–held on the property of Lockheed Martin. Lockheed Martin is one of the world's largest weapons contractors and profiteers from war, headquartered right outside Philly. So it was there that we took the cross of Jesus.

Being the 5 year anniversary of the bombing of Baghdad, I was asked to reflect on my Easter in Baghdad in 2003. So I did. With mom looking on, I shared how she had supported my trip. I recalled how she had learned to ache with Abraham, Mary, and the parents of children in Iraq, all of whom have had to watch their own kids face grave danger. At one point, mom said to me, "The children in Iraq are just as precious to God as you are. How can I tell you not to get too close to their suffering?" And every night she prayed–weeping, hurting, groaning with God for an end to that suffering. As I spoke, I looked out and saw her eyes filled with tears. (NOTE: It was my mom's first "protest," so even though she had tears in her eyes, she also had a mischievous smirk as she stood next to a clever banner that read: "Lockheed Martin…. Making a Killing!")

After some speakers, scripture, and music, we walked through the stations of the passion narrative which led us onto the base of Lockheed Martin. There a dozen folks stood, holding crosses, in prayerful vigil.... And then, one by one, they were arrested for trespassing. It was an incredible embodiment of gentle dissent and vigilant hope – that holy mischief we see in Jesus as he triumphs over the empire's cross. Not the Fourth of July or Veteran's Day or Columbus Day – but Good Friday. Passover. Easter. Pentecost. These are our most beautiful holidays. So during this season of death and resurrection, we remember the contemporary sufferings of Christ, the other baby refugees being born amid the wars and genocides of our Herods. And we remember the Gospel promise that in the end life conquers death. It may be Friday, but Sunday is coming.

Shane Claiborne is the author of Jesus for President, a Red Letter Christian, and a founding partner of The Simple Way community, a radical faith community that lives among and serves the homeless in the Kensington neighborhood of Philadelphia.

Jesus came with a job to do, to complete the work to which Israel was called. This work, from the call of Abraham onwards, was to put the human race to rights, and so to put the whole creation to rights. As the gospel writers tell the story, this task was to be accomplished by Jesus bringing about the sovereign healing rule of the creator God. Jesus was addressing the question, "What might it look like if God was running this show?" And answering, "This is what it looks like: just watch." And then, "just listen." In what he did, and in the stories he told, Jesus was announcing and inaugurating what he referred to as "the kingdom of God," the long-awaited hope that the creator God would run the whole show, on earth as in heaven.

But the problem was, and is, that other people are still running the show. Other kingdoms, other power structures, have usurped the rule of the world's wise creator, and the forces of evil are exceedingly powerful and destructive. Jesus' task of inaugurating God's kingdom therefore necessarily led him to meet those forces in direct combat, to draw upon himself their full, dark fury so as to exhaust their power and make a way through to launch the creator's project of new creation despite them. That is one clue at least to the meaning of Jesus' crucifixion, though that event, planting the sign of God's kingdom in the middle of space, time, and matter, remains inexhaustible. But let's be clear. As the gospels tell the story, Jesus' death was the culmination of several different strands: a political process, a religious clash, a spiritual war, all rushing together into one terrible day, one terrible death. And in the light of that, according to Jesus himself and his first followers, everything in the world looks different, is different, must be approached differently. With Jesus' death, the power structures of the world were called to account; with his resurrection, a new life, a new power, was unleashed upon the world. And the question is: How ought this to work out? What should we be doing as a result?

If we are to think Christianly, then we must think according to the pattern of Jesus Christ. And that means that the first place we should look for God in the "War on Terror" would be in the smoldering ruins of the Twin Towers, and then in the ruins of Baghdad and Basra, the shattered homes and lives of the tens of thousands who have through no fault of their own been in the wrong place at the wrong time, as the angry superpower, like a rogue elephant teased by a little dog, has gone on the rampage stamping on everything that moves in the hope of killing the dog by killing everything within reach. The presence of God within the world at a time of war must be calibrated according to what Paul says in Romans 8, that the Spirit groans within God's people as they groan with the pain of the world. The cross of Jesus Christ is the sign and the assurance that the God who made the world still loves the world and, in that love, groans and grieves.

But God wants his rebel world to be ordered, to be under authorities and governments, because otherwise the bullies and the arrogant will always prey on the weak and the helpless; but all authorities and governments face the temptation to become bullies and arrogant themselves. The New Testament writers, like other Jews at the time, saw this writ large in the Roman empire of their day. Those with eyes to see can see it in other subsequent empires, right down to our own day.

It is the task of the followers of Jesus to remind those called to authority that the God who made the world intends to put the world to rights at last, and to call those authorities to acts of justice and mercy which will anticipate, in the present time, the future, coming, final victory of God over all evil, all violence, all arrogant abuse of power. And where the world's rulers genuinely strive for that end, the Christian church declares as the ancient Jews did with the pagan king Cyrus, that God's Spirit is at work—whether the authorities know it or not.

Insofar as the last five years have constituted a wake-up call to sleepy western Christians to think urgently about issues of global justice and governance, we can see God, I believe, in that new stirring, warning us that we have a task and that we haven't been doing it too well. In particular, we must face the deeply ambiguous question of the present power and position of America. I am not anti-American when I criticise some policies of some American leaders, any more than I am anti-British when I criticise some of the policies of my own elected leaders. To suggest otherwise is simply a cheap way of avoiding the real questions. The creator God allows societies to rise and fall, empires to grow and wane. And though things are massively more complicated than this, we could see in the rise of America as the current sole superpower some great possibilities for bringing justice and mercy, genuine freedom and prosperity, to the whole world. Empires always carry that possibility. But empires also face the temptation to use their power for their own prestige and wealth. The challenge now is to provide a critique of American empire without implying that the world should collapse into anarchy, and a fresh sense of direction for that empire without colluding with massive abuses of power.

Where then is God in the war on terror? Grieving and groaning within the pain and horror of his battered but still beautiful world. Stirring in the hearts of human beings the desire for a more credible structure of global justice and mercy. Burning into the imagination of human beings a hope that peace and reconciliation might eventually win out over suspicion and hatred, that the world may be put to rights and that we may anticipate that in the present time. The Christian gospel, revealing the mysterious God we discover in Jesus and the Spirit, offers a framework for discerning where God is at work in the midst of the dangers and opportunities that confront us. All of us in our different callings are summoned to this task; some of you, perhaps, to make it your life's work. Jesus is Lord. The Spirit is powerful. God is doing a new thing. Let's get out there and join in.

Dr. N.T. Wright is a New Testament theologian and the Bishop of Durham in the Church of England. He is the author of many books, including Surprised by Hope, and Evil and the Justice of God. This post is adapted from his lecture "Where is God in ‘The War on Terror?'" and is used with permission by the author.

Mary Nelson just posted on MLK's Riverside speech, but I have some reflections to add. I'll admit that I took a "day off" yesterday instead of a "day on," making a four-day weekend backpacking trip in the Adirondacks with some buddies. But I did participate in some popular education on the van ride home yesterday, observing the occasion by playing two of the three MLK speeches I've been able to find for free online. I skipped ubiquitous and well-known "I Have a Dream" speech. We did listen to his "Mountaintop" speech, given the night before he was assassinated. Though it's more popularly known for the haunting forshadowings of this death—"I may not get there with you ..."—we were struck by its connection of economic to racial justice.

But "Beyond Vietnam" is worth a listen as a history lesson, as a challenge to the more domesticated gloss that gets applied to MLK's legacy every January, and perhaps most importantly as a continuing challenge to society and the church to take seriously the imperative of nonviolence: "We still have a choice today; nonviolent coexistence or violent co-annihilation." A few passages are familiar to me by now since they're the kind of things that we at Sojourners frequently quote. There's the painfully relevant assertion that:

America would never invest the necessary funds or energies in rehabilitation of its poor so long as adventures like Vietnam continued to draw men and skills and money like some demonic destructive suction tube.

And this warning:

I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a "thing-oriented" society to a "person-oriented" society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.

But those passages are primarily political. Listening yesterday, another passage jumped out that I was less familiar with—one that rooted King's nonviolence in his faith, and an important reminder to Christians that allegiances to political movements and divisions must fall beneath our allegiance to Christ:

This is a calling that takes me beyond national allegiances, but even if it were not present I would yet have to live with the meaning of my commitment to the ministry of Jesus Christ. To me the relationship of this ministry to the making of peace is so obvious that I sometimes marvel at those who ask me why I'm speaking against the war. Could it be that they do not know that the good news was meant for all [people]—for Communist and capitalist, for their children and ours, for black and for white, for revolutionary and conservative? Have they forgotten that my ministry is in obedience to the One who loved his enemies so fully that he died for them?

Ryan Rodrick Beiler is the Web editor for Sojourners.

In September, as Gen. David Petraeus testified before Congress on the progress of the Bush administration's "troop surge" in Iraq, Jim Wallis asked our supporters to match it with our own surge of prayers for Congress to bring an end to the war.

Over 17,000 of you responded, and today Rep. Rosa DeLauro took to the House floor to read two prayers received from her district in Connecticut:

Loving God, inspire our leaders in Congress to release your spirit of wisdom, courage, and love and end the war, death, and suffering in Iraq. (Claire from Orange, CT)

I pray that the hearts and minds of those making decisions concerning the war in Iraq be opened to finding viable, peaceful alternatives to continuing the war. I pray that withdrawal of troops commence immediately, and continue steadily over the shortest period possible, to bring them all home. I pray that the light of God will fall upon the country of Iraq and bring about peace in that place. (Julie from Hamden, CT)

Thank you to those of you who offered your prayers. It's not too late to join the surge, as we continue to pray for peace and beseech our leaders to bring an end to the war in Iraq.

Michael Sherrard is the online organizer for Sojourners.

This year, Nov. 11 will be a particularly joyous day for this veteran. Though I will not be attending any events, I can still reasonably expect a few pats on the back or some kind words in recognition of my six years in service to our country. Thankfully, I am past the awkwardness that used to greet me as supporters approached me with their gratitude in airports or shopping malls - seeking hugs and handshakes to express their appreciation for my sacrifice. I have overcome the demons that accompanied me back from Iraq, who insisted the strangers' thanks were idolatrous and superficial. However, I do continue to pray that well-wishers offer "welcome home" in place of "thank you" - the latter often being misunderstood, as many service members do not consider the acts they have committed to be commendable. Beside merely a celebration of patriotism, Nov. 11 is also a day to remember and rejoice in peace. Armistice Day holds a place in history as the day the Allies and Germany signed a treaty in Compiègne, France, ending hostilities on the Western Front. To this day, many people still reserve a moment of silence at 11:00 a.m. to respect the 8 million who perished in WWI.

Though for Christians, the day does not end there. This Sunday the Catholic Church celebrates the feast day of St. Martin of Tours, one of the first saints not to be martyred. In fact, St. Martin was one of many to be beatified who, by today's standards, would be identified as a conscientious objector - an individual verifiably opposed to "war in any form." At one time a Roman centurion, Martin came to a "crystallization" of conscience, laying down his sword and declaring, "I am a soldier of Christ, it is not permissible for me to fight." It has been speculated that in 1918, Nov. 11 was chosen as Armistice Day in part due to St. Martin, who is especially the patron of soldiers and chaplains. It is curious to consider that this Christian soldier in fact thought it more Christlike to return to the front lines unarmed than with the sword the empire placed in his hands. David Thoreau, an inspiration to another saintly Martin, believed that a creative, nonviolent minority could serve the state by resisting it with the intention of improving it. Could this in fact be the embodiment of service to the state Paul speaks of in Romans 13? After all, he and St. Martin both were imprisoned for their beliefs…

Finally, I come to the most celebratory story behind Nov. 11 for this war-wearied veteran. Not long after my own road to Damascus conversion experience, I miraculously found a beautiful woman as crazy about Jesus as I was (and still am). An abbreviated courtship ensued, and within seven months, I had proposed. As our relationship developed, we found that our distinct beliefs matured as well. Faced with a similar crossroads regarding her own service to God and country, she too followed the path Martin helped forge so many centuries ago. Not long ago she filed for discharge as a conscientious objector, declaring herself a soldier in Christ's nonviolent army of peace.

Left to decide our date of wedded bliss, my 'better half,' my muse, settled on an otherwise nondescript day in November. This Sunday, we will share in the sacrament of matrimony - the threefold meaning of Nov. 11 is sure to be a fitting celebration of our combined attempts at patriotism, pacifism, and piety. We have high hopes and big dreams of continuing our service to fellow centurions, and with God's grace his gift to us can continue to bless others.

Logan Laituri is a six-year Army veteran with combatant service in Iraq during OIF II and experience with Christian Peacemaker Teams in Israel and the West Bank. He is an active member of Iraq Veterans Against the War and currently resides in Camden, New Jersey, in an intentional Christian community called Camden House, where he continues to seek ways to wage peace wherever he goes. He blogs at courageouscoward.blogspot.com.

A few weeks ago we looked at the calendar and saw that Sept. 11 is now officially titled "Patriot Day." We started thinking of what would be an appropriate way to celebrate and remember this day, especially for those of us who have caught a little of the ex-patriot spirit of a new kingdom… you know, an "in the world but not of it" sort of thing. Then we heard that the film The Camden 28 was going to debut nationally on PBS, and with suspiciously brilliant timing -- on Patriot Day.

My Sept. 11 was surreal, heart wrenching, and with a little mystical dazzle. We'll get to the film in a minute.

I had originally hoped to post this yesterday morning (Sept. 11), partly to give a little shout-out about the film, yada yada, but then came the drama. As I was writing my original little ditty, "Reflections of an Ex-patriot," from my room here in north Philly, a fight broke out among some of the kids on our block. Then their parents came out and the fight grew louder and louder, until our whole block was a chaotic brawl. It's actually been a while since we've had a fight like this one. It just kept building and building, consuming our neighborhood, reminding me of the inferno a few weeks back. Ugliness. Ugliness I can hear out my window and see in Iraq.

I thought of how quickly revenge escalates from a couple of kids to a block filled with rage. I thought of Sept. 11, of Iraq. Obviously, I couldn't just keep writing about peace while a war raged on my street. So, out I went (hence the tardiness and change of the title on this piece).

I remember hearing a definition of idolatry as "something you would sacrifice your children for." There is nothing we fight more passionately for than flag and countries, biology, and nation. And so the fire rages on. But I am thankful for days where we pause to mourn, to honor life, and to cry together. I cried with a few neighbors yesterday about how people hurt each other, and I cried with a church last night over a world that can't stop hitting back. Before the showing of The Camden 28, we celebrated Mass in Camden. We prayed that God would heal the brokenness of our world, our cities, and our hearts. The scripture for Mass was Romans 8, which describes all of creation as groaning as in the pains of childbirth. Today is a day for groaning. And yet we were reminded that these are the pains of birth -- not death -- but birth. There is still hope, even on a day marked by death, and death after death. In the end the world is pregnant with hope, the hope of a kingdom other than Rome or America. And we were reminded that we are the midwives of that kingdom. We are to help give birth to the new world.

After Mass we viewed the film. It is an award-winning documentary about a group of 28 of our friends here in Philly/Camden who entered a federal building during the Vietnam War and destroyed the draft cards. I'm going to do my best not to give away all the best moments in the film in case you didn't get a chance to see it (if you don't want to hear any more skip this paragraph), but there is one moment in the film that is unbelievably redemptive. One of the 28 had become an informant to the FBI, but during the course of things his son was in a tragic accident and died. Our priest here in Camden, Michael Doyle (also one of the 28), was asked to do the funeral. I thought to myself, scandalous, but what is even more scandalous is that brother Michael DID IT! He tells the story of how the funeral was filled with FBI agents and peace activists, and how the little group of activists surrounded their Judas with love and friendship. At the funeral Michael's message was reconciliation and grace.

In the end, the informant ended up testifying on the side of the defense, offering instrumental testimony before a very attentive jury. But beyond the drama of the courtroom is the story of forgiveness and grace. That is what the world is hungry for, pregnant for -- especially on Sept. 11.

The evening ended last night as the filmmaker joined us in Camden. Members of the Camden 28 presented him with the clock from the courtroom here in Camden where the trial took place. It is now permanently set for 2:30 p.m., the time where these prophets heard those beautiful two words: "not guilty."

The only thing that could have made the day more perfect would have been another little trip to the federal building ... maybe next year.

Shane Claiborne is a Red Letter Christian, author of The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical, and a founding partner of The Simple Way community, a radical faith community that lives among and serves the homeless in the Kensington neighborhood of Philadelphia.

Check local listings for future broadcasts of The Camden 28.

On Thursday, Sept. 6, 2007, six of us were found guilty in federal court in Albuquerque, New Mexico, by a federal judge for trying to visit the office of our senator. We will be sentenced in a few weeks.

It all started one year ago on Sept. 26, 2006. That day nine of us entered the Federal Building in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and tried to take the elevator to the third floor to the office of Sen. Pete Domenici to present him with a copy of the "Declaration of Peace," a national petition campaign aimed at stopping the U.S. war on Iraq, bringing our troops home, and pursuing nonviolent alternatives and reparations. More than 375 similar actions took place across the nation that week.

The senator's office manager came downstairs and said she would only allow three of us upstairs. After 45 minutes of waiting and negotiations all nine of us decided to go upstairs, figuring we had a right as a group of constituents to deliver our petition to the senator's office.

As we stepped onto the elevator a policeman put his foot in the door, and the next thing we knew, the power was turned off.

Read the full entry »

Last week's announcement that the Bush administration is seeking to designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps a foreign terrorist organization is the latest drumbeat in an intensifying confrontation that could lead to war.

In an interview with The New York Times, former Iranian deputy defense minister, Alireza Akbari warned that the measure could cause instability in the region. "If they [the U.S. government] put pressure on the security apparatus of a country, they should expect a similar reaction."

As sabers continue to rattle, it's still unclear whether these latest developments will translate into a military confrontation in the near future. For more than a year now, rumors of war between the U.S. and Iran have ebbed and flowed. Officials within Vice President Dick Cheney's office have advocated for military intervention, whereas the State Department and the Secretary of Defense have made public statements favoring a diplomatic approach. Current presidential candidates have largely refused to take any option off the table to prevent Iran from developing nuclear weapons.

With war still raging in Iraq, many of us are hungry for a sign of hope that the tensions between the U.S. and Iran will not evolve into military confrontation. While it's hard to see hope in the daily headlines, an ecumenical delegation to Iran found signs that the tensions between our two nations can indeed be mediated.

Last February, 13 representatives of national religious groups and denominations, led by the Mennonite Central Committee and the American Friends Service Committee, journeyed to Iran in an effort to build bridges of understanding between our two nations. Rather than approaching Iran as the "axis of evil," they met with Muslim and Christian leaders, government officials, and Iranians from many walks of life. Through listening and sharing their own stories, they returned from Tehran with new hope for an easing of tensions between Iran and the U.S. Specifically, they call on the two countries to take the following steps:

• immediately engage in direct, face-to-face talks;
• cease using language that defines the other using "enemy" images; and
• promote more people-to-people exchanges, including among religious leaders, members of Parliament/Congress, and civil society.

While in Iran with the ecumenical delegation, Sojourners/Call to Renewal representative Jeff Carr was struck by the dramatically different narratives Iranians and Americans told of the history between the two nations: the CIA's overthrow of Iran's democratically elected leader, the installation of the shah, the 1979 revolution, the ensuing hostage crisis, and the current nuclear standoff.

Since the delegation's trip to Iran, we've received numerous requests for information about the current conflict between the U.S. and Iran from Americans who also wish to understand the roots of tension between our governments.

To meet this need, Sojourners/Call to Renewal and Faithful Security have collaborated to produce a Words, Not War Study and Action Guide. The study guide includes fact sheets, stories from the ecumenical delegation, suggestions of ways to advocate for Words, Not War, and a study guide that serves as a companion piece to the PBS "NOW" program "Talking to Iran."

The first step to reconciling the tension between the U.S. and Iran is to learn one another's stories. Through the Words , Not War Study and Action Guide and the PBS program "Talking to Iran," you'll be able to learn more about the delegation's experience in Iran and the roots of the tension between the two nations. Our hope is that based on this information, you will feel led to make a public witness for the need for a diplomatic solution to the current standoff between the U.S. and Iran.

In the words of Jeff Carr, "May God help both our nations and peoples to begin the healing and reconciliation process so that we may avoid war and build that lasting peace."

Jessica Wilbanks staffs Faithful Security: the National Religious Partnership on the Nuclear Weapons Danger. She lives in Taos, New Mexico.

We don’t need another election. We need an exorcism. It is this that leads me from vigil to vigil and I burned with it on the evening of March 16, when I participated in nonviolent civil resistance and was arrested with more than 200 others as part of the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq. I shook from it in court some three months later when I pleaded “no contest” to failing to obey a lawful order.

There were 13 disciples in court that day, each with a unique mission. Many spoke beautifully to issues of amendments, traditions, permits, and codes. I ask you, sisters and brothers, what is our message? I wonder: Should we defend ourselves in finite opportunities to testify, or ought we defend the lowliest victims of war?

I stood at the podium that day, my throat dry and my hands cold, testifying to the message of the nonviolent Jesus. I stood and prayed there—as I had in front of the White House on that bitter cold night so many of us remember—strictly to relieve the ringing in my ears: speak for the dead or join them. I could not discuss the First Amendment or the parameters of the permit. Rather, I felt commissioned by God to speak to one truth alone: The frontline in Iraq is everywhere and the children have no place to hide. When I sat down I felt, but for a moment, clean.

Eda R. Uca is a member of Jonah House, an intentional faith-based resistance community in Baltimore, Maryland. She is the author of Ana's Girls: The Essential Guide to the Underground Eating Disorder Community Online.

Many conscientious service members have been speaking out despite an often oppressive and unforgiving atmosphere. Some of us have even been persecuted and attacked while exercising our civic duty of speaking truth to power in times of moral crises. The Rev. Lennox Yearwood, an Air Force chaplain, faces accusations of working against national security. Liam Madden, fellow IVAW member and co-founder of Appeal for Redress, is defending his project against comments that are similarly repeated daily to men and women in the armed forces who are speaking out; effectively demanding that our GIs remain silent and obey our leaders blindly.

In a few months, the Vatican will beatify a fellow conscientious objector who stood for peace over prejudice, humility over arrogance. Like a growing number of servicemen and women in our modern conflict, this soldier of conscience would not bend to demands that he serve the country’s militaristic intentions. He faced accusations of cowardice and outright treason, even of threatening national security. The book In Solitary Witness, by Gordon Zahn, revealed that Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer, was beheaded by the Third Reich in August 1943 after refusing to serve in the German army. The Catholic Peace Fellowship reports he will be beatified on October 26, 2007, in his home country, and provides information on how Jägerstätter and countless other Christians have chosen conscientious objection, often in the face of significant harassment from Christian and secular critics alike.

The United States is not, nor will it ever be, Nazi Germany, but Jägerstätter's witness remains relevant and powerful for our current context. As Jägerstätter's testimony attests, the question of how a pacifist would address the problem of violence as manifested by Hitler has a response: The blame does not rest solely on Hitler, but is shared by the social classes (including the German church in status confessions) that enforced strict nationalism in the pursuit of economic revival, killing its own prophets, such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in the process.

If every soldier obeyed God and their conscience rather than human leaders, as Jägerstätter did, the world would be spared just as much from the likes of the German war machine as we would the American military industrial complex. Franz Jägerstätter, just as Saints Maximilian of Tebessa and Martin of Tours before him, was courageous enough to stand by the conviction "Miles Christi ego sum; pugnare mihi non licet: I am a soldier of Christ; it is not permissible for me to fight."

Logan Laituri is a six-year Army veteran with combatant service in Iraq during OIF II and experience with Christian Peacemaker Teams in Israel and the West Bank. He is an active member of Iraq Veterans Against the War and currently resides in Camden, New Jersey, in an intentional Christian community called Camden House, where he continues to seek ways to wage peace wherever he goes. He blogs at courageouscoward.blogspot.com.

Last week, in a little-noticed story, a group of Catholic members of Congress sent a letter to the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, asking the bishops to help mobilize the church toward ending the war in Iraq.

The letter was sent to Bishop William S. Skylstad, president of the USCCB and Bishop Thomas G. Wenski, International Justice and Peace Committee Chair, requesting a meeting with the USCCB. The members explained:

We have taken great comfort in the prophetic words of many Catholic leaders, relied on them for inspiration during our deliberations, and welcomed them in helping shape policy. If we understand the Catholic tradition correctly, thoughtful Church leaders around the world do not believe that the war in Iraq meets the strict conditions for a just war or the high moral standards for overriding the presumption against the use of force. We agree and seek an end to this injustice.

Our concerns are rooted in both the political realm and in our faith and manifest in our efforts to enact legislation that will bring an end to this war. Pope John Paul II framed the moral question well when he said: "When, as in Iraq in these days, war threatens the fate of humanity, it is even more urgent to proclaim with a strong and decisive voice that peace is the only path for building a society which is more just and marked by solidarity. Violence and weapons can never resolve the problems of man."

Religion News Service reported:

Sister Mary Ann Walsh, a spokeswoman for the USCCB, said the bishops were considering the letter and that they have already made repeated statements about the war. "Certainly the bishops have made no secret about their concerns over the war in Iraq," Walsh said.

As Congress begins this week to seriously debate legislative proposals to end the war, the continued voice of the church is critical. As the members of Congress concluded:

In our own education in the faith, we find the testimony of the scriptures compelling, and although we have no illusions about the complexities of our current situation in Iraq, we have come to believe that peace cannot simply exist as an ideal—our efforts must be accompanied by actions as we embrace the teachings of peace and justice.

As we have in various ways over the years, it is incumbent upon us here at Sojourners/Call to Renewal to remind our readers of the history behind the Mother's Day holiday. For while honoring one's mother is important - see commandment #5 - like most holidays, Mother's Day has been distorted nearly beyond recognition by the greeting-card-candy-and-floral-industrial-complex.

For the record, Mother's Day was first declared in the U.S. in 1870 by pacifist Unitarian suffragist Julia Ward Howe. This was not a day originally intended for saccharine sentiment - it was proclaimed as a day for empowerment and activism!

Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation:

Arise, then, women of this day!
Arise, all women who have breasts,
Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

Ryan Rodrick Beiler is the Web Editor for Sojourners/Call to Renewal.

I've been told that some Americans can't find North Dakota on the map. We can be considered backward (like some of the folks in the movie Fargo), which is untrue. Our state legislature recently passed North Dakota's own Peace Resolution (Senate Concurrent Resolution 4022), a progressive piece of legislation that has thrived in this red state. The resolution calls for the pursuit of peace in Iraq and Afghanistan. It voices support for our troops, urging their return - with or without a successful conclusion of their efforts.

The secrets to our success:

1) Public opinion in North Dakota disapproves of the escalation of war in Iraq.
2) The resolution had bipartisan sponsorship.
3) North Dakota's peace community rallied around the resolution with all of their force and grace.
4) The military community was welcomed as an ally in the mutual goal of supporting our troops.

Some of my colleagues argued that the language could have been stronger. Yes, the resolution could have set a timeline for withdrawal or addressed specific foreign policy. I am pleased with the outcome of this process, however. We made it as challenging as we could for risk-averse legislators to vote their conscience and their hope - peace in the Middle East.

In my 20 years as a senator, I have never heard the word peace with such frequency in the legislative halls. This is better than a good start. In the Peace Garden state, this may be the least that we will do.

Tim Mathern is a North Dakota state senator and attended Harvard's Kennedy School of Government when Jim Wallis taught a class there in 2000.

Much has been written about Katrina since that devastating storm ravaged the Gulf Coast a year and a half ago. Many organizations, including Sojourners/Call to Renewal, have seized upon this situation to remind us that there are still two Americas – one poor and forgotten and the other rich and resourced – and that while charity can rebuild houses, governments must rebuild levees.

While I believe that those things are true, my week-long visit to the Gulf Coast last week showed me how complicated this situation is on the ground. Like the twisted piles of debris filling lots and dotting residential curbs, there are many convolutions to the story, and there seems to be enough praise and blame to go around. It might be years before we've unraveled all that happened and how we can avoid reliving it.

Notwithstanding the important task of backward-looking and learning from past mistakes, Hurricane Katrina has now provided our nation with an opportunity, going forward, to show how effectively we can rebuild, revitalize, and replenish the Gulf Coast for all residents - if all sectors work in concert. It will take both private and public money, personal and political will, step ladders and savvy legislation. It is not an issue for just the Right or the Left, only Republicans or Democrats. It will take sweat equity and compassionate public policy. But what we must agree upon is to rebuild the coast and its cities for ALL residents, not just those with certain means. As one advocate asked in an e-mail, “How do we do justice to the families who lost everything (including the lives of friends and family members) and were forced to leave during the 2005 disasters? How do we make sure that everyone has a home to return to?”

As expected, the church has responded with overwhelming financial and manual support – thousands of volunteers and millions of dollars have rebuilt countless homes and lives, work not necessarily possible (or fitting) for the government to handle. But if our involvement stops there, we will have failed, for that is only half of the story. It is charity and justice we seek.

Fierce local legislative battles are already underway about such issues as affordable housing policy, development practices, and insurance and government reparations (or the lack thereof).
Band-aids of bricks and mortar do not address the underlying policies that currently have made it virtually impossible for thousands of families to come home and rebuild their lives. Some municipalities have seen this disaster as an opportunity to rid their towns of “undesirable elements” like public housing and the poor, and advocates on the ground are in daily fights to win even the slightest consideration for “the least of these” among us.

It is apparent upon visiting the Mississippi coast that the market and local policy has freely allowed casinos, condos, hotels, and restaurant chains to quickly rebuild. But the call of Christ is to a kingdom where the last are first and in which we have a preferential option to the poor. Unless that priority is intentionally built into the public policy and practice of rebuilding, they will not be remembered. It is up to us – not just to paint walls – but to make sure, on every level, that those that the market forgets have a place they can call home.

Bob Francis is the Policy and Organizing Assistant for Sojourners/Call to Renewal. He traveled to Biloxi, Mississippi, in support of the United Church of Christ's Back Bay Mission with five fellow staff members in partnership with a work team from Pilgrim UCC of Wheaton, Maryland.

+ See multimedia from Sojourners/Call to Renewal's first Gulf Coast work project in July 2006

Sixty-two years ago today, Dietrich Bonhoeffer was hanged at the Nazi concentration camp in Flossenburg, Germany, for his role in the anti-Hitler resistance. His books – Life Together, Ethics, The Cost of Discipleship, Letters and Papers From Prison, and others – continue to be read and discussed widely.

Last year, Harper San Francisco published A Year With Dietrich Bonhoeffer, short meditations drawn from his writings for each day of the year.

I wrote the foreword to the book, and later excerpted it as a column in Sojourners magazine, noting:

The more I read Bonhoeffer, the more amazed I became. He seemed to break all the categories. He was a brilliant intellectual (earning his doctoral degree at the age of 21), yet felt called by the crisis of his historical moment to act, not just to think. He was both a contemplative and an activist, who showed that you really can’t be one without becoming the other as well. His insistence on the life of personal discipleship to give belief its credibility was matched by his conviction that the life of community was the essential way to demonstrate faith in the world. All those paradoxes were necessary complementarities for Bonhoeffer and formed an integrated faith and life rare in his time, or in any time.

Bonhoeffer continues to appeal today to those who are drawn to Jesus Christ, to those who are hungry for spirituality, and to those who seek to join religion and public life, faith and politics. On this Easter Monday, we remember him one of many whose faith led them to make the ultimate sacrifice.

As part of the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq, more than 200 local vigils were organized around the U.S. - plus Canada and the U.K. - to coincide with the D.C. service, march, and vigil at the White House. This is an account of one of those local vigils:

I, along with four others from our congregation, attended the Christian Peace Witness Vigil in a northwest suburb of Chicago. It was hosted by Don R., who felt he needed to do more than gripe about the war in Iraq.

Don and I, strangers before the vigil event, worked together via e-mail to prepare an order of worship for Friday evening. I spent more time than I had planned working on the service and making signs.

When the time came to drive to the event, I felt a tremendous sense of trepidation and anxiety. I was worried about the logistics of the vigil, but my real concern was the possibility of police interference or hecklers. I am brave and vocal about peace in the confines of my home or my peace church. Once I leave these places of sanctuary, I'm more like Peter before the cock crows.

When I got to the parking lot where I'd leave my car before I took the short walk bearing large peace signs down the sidewalks of a well-to-do suburb, I prayed yet again. In all my nervousness, I closed and locked the door of my car - with my keys tucked away in my backpack, which was resting on the passenger seat.

I never do things like this.

I thought I was going to pass out, peering into my car window, seeing the copies of the order of worship and freshly-made signs trapped on the other side. I did panic for a while, until I accepted the reality that I needed to seek help - of all people, I needed to call the police.

I went into a family-run movie theater around the corner and they called the police for me. The young officer worked incredibly hard to jimmy the lock, all the while apologizing for scratching up my 95' Dodge Caravan. All I could think was, "I need to be at a vigil in five minutes, and please, officer, don't look in the back seat and read my signs." He left after I showed some I.D., and I grabbed my things and rushed to vigil for the rest of the evening with my fellow Christian peace witnesses.

I wanted to share this story because of all nights, of all people, I had to call for the presence of the pol