Damaged Goods

I am sure we have all heard the term "damaged goods". It has most often been treated as a pejorative term. No one wants to be "damaged goods" and no one wants those we care about to be considered "damaged goods". Claiming that there is a stigma attached to being "damaged goods" would certainly be an understatement. I never considered it until I went to seminary, but I began to reflect on my own experiences, realizing that I was in fact extremely damaged goods. 

I have written in the past about my experiences in Iraq and my concerns about the climate that led to where we are today. I have largely refrained from weighing in on the conversation revolving around current events, waiting for the emotional fallout to subside. I find when people are the most emotionally charged they seldom can weigh in other perspectives. I have found that if I wait any longer to share, however, I may have been irresponsible in my own silence. 

Iraq 2005, author in the center

If you do not know me or you have not read this blog before, I am a combat veteran. I served in Operation Iraqi Freedom in 2005 as an Infantry Marine. I landed in Iraq in March 2005, and although several Marines I knew were killed in action (roadside bombs, mines, and mortars), I did not encounter enemy combatants directly until May 26, 2005. I don’t need to share details of Operation New Market or any other operations, but I will tell you it changed me forever. I came home in October 2005. I returned to church, worshipping on Sundays, hearing lessons like Mark 5:38-40. I felt broken, sinful, and evil. I still hated my enemies. I wanted revenge. I didn’t enlist because of 9/11. It occurred while I was at boot camp on Parris Island. I didn’t fully understand my enemy. I didn’t fully understand Islam. I didn’t fully understand the cultures in the Middle East. What is more, it didn’t matter. I didn’t feel a need to understand. All I needed to know “they” showed me on September 11th. 

Operation New Market didn’t help. Years later I had to lead a youth group bible study comparing  Mark 5:38-40 to Exodus 21:23-25. It was awkward talking with High School students about gossiping classmates and friends who had abandoned them as enemies. My enemies had attempted to take my life and successfully ended the lives of others I cared for, as deeply as my own family. It was easy to tell these young adults to forgive but what I had experienced was unforgivable. No comparison -I thought- and certainly not hypocritical. 

It has to start somewhere though. Now, despite my sense of call to ministry -and the challenges of many friends and classmates- I am not a pacifist. I have, however, come to understand something about myself. I am damaged goods, perhaps not the most damaged the world has seen, but I am pretty damaged. It took many years and it wasn’t just seminary that changed it for me. I had to learn to forgive and in my forgiveness I found out something about myself. I wasn’t forgiving for the sake of my enemies, I was forgiving for my own sake. I used to see articles about Vietnam Veterans returning to explore the battlefields, even meeting up with Vietcong and Vietminh Veterans. I completely thought they were out of their minds, or liars. They couldn’t forgive and be healed, I thought. 

A former officer of the North Vietnamese army
welcomes Dr. Dennis Woytek back to his country.

I believed this until I went on a trip to Palestine, two years ago. I wrote a blog about it (Cradle to the grave- A good cup of coffee) but that trip changed my life. Now, Palestine is not Iraq but this trip made me realize how much I missed and loved the culture that I had been surrounded by, which was also the culture I generally associated with my anger and resentment. The smells, the food, the drinks, the language, the sounds (call for prayer was really tough), and the clothes. It all brought painful memories flooding back to me. I immersed myself into those painful memories. I felt anger, fear, and resentment but I also felt a slight feeling of comfort. It was kind of like an early morning trip to a nice coffee shop on an overcast day, that feeling as if you are home again and as comfortable as you can be. Maybe even a late night at a quiet pub, sipping on a hearty pint in an atmosphere with just the right amount of light, sound, and ambiance. It was the ever slightest coziness I had experienced in years. I was reminded of Middle Eastern hospitality and humor. I heard jokes about how Israel was the 51st state in the U.S., how excessive and abusive we are in our consumption of coffee, and our poor dietary habits. I found it fairly easy to quip back about how coffee grounds are meant to be brewed, not eaten, and how excessive amounts of hummus/falafel allows for a Palestinian Montezuma’s revenge. Those I encountered laughed and shared. Some even asked about my own ability to have a conversation with them, after what I had experienced. 

Returning home from Iraq and going to seminary, I found a mentor in my theology professor, who specialized in Muslim/Christian/Jewish inter-religious dialogue. Having lived in Palestine himself, we compared notes about cultural experiences and especially the foods/drinks we missed (true arabic coffee is magnificent!). He introduced me to members of our shared community that worked towards deepening relationships with the Christian community locally. My healing continued. 

In the midst of my healing, many made the same conclusions that I had once made about Vietnam Veterans; I was crazy or I was a liar. A new conclusion was introduced that hurt deeply; I was a self righteous Christian who was preaching down to others. It probably hurt the most because I never told anyone to take the same path I had. I have never even assumed that my path is the path that everyone should, or even could take. I would never tell the family of one of our fallen that they should forgive and forget. I don’t have that right and I don’t believe it is possible. What I wanted people to know was that I had found a way to begin to heal. I am still damaged goods but I am not longer damaged beyond all recognition. In reading Hebrew 12:1, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us”, I have found that my attempt to face my hate, my fear, and my own cry for revenge has freed me. I believe that we are all called towards reconciliation. As animals we are one of the few species that intentionally and systematically seek confrontation and systematic methods of-not defeating but- crushing our enemies. We don’t seek victory, we seek overwhelming victory. We don’t seek merely a win, but the right to humiliate those who stand in opposition against us. As the only species that engages in such acts, I cannot help but wonder; what if this attitude violates the very nature of our created order? If this is the case, no wonder my hate soiled my heart like a cancer!

Forgiveness is a never ending process and whoever says “forgive and forget”, is simply foolish. The most savage acts in this world will NEVER be forgotten, but how do we allow those acts to continue to eat away at our hope, our lives, our love, our potential to be as we were created to be? I’m no pacifist, despite what you may think upon reading this. What I wonder is this; if we sought the redemption of the weak with the power we have, rather than the victory, protection, and humiliation of our enemies, how would we look? To quote the great philosopher, Rocky Balboa, “It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.”

A French father, whose wife was killed at the Bataclan, recently claimed that he would not allow Daeesh to receive his hate. He is right, they are drawing us into a state of hate that will deteriorate us from the inside out. They are not a military power, and they are therefore using the harshest guerrilla tactic there is, demoralization. There is no easy answer and we all must find our own path, but before you seek revenge, do me a favor and just try one thing; try first to seek out someone that you believe is exactly what you most fear and hate, take them out for a cup of coffee, then make a collective decision about who your neighbor may or may not be.

Sources

"Returning Veteran Finds Reconciliation in Vietnam | Local and State News & Features | Pittsburgh Catholic Newspaper." November 20, 2015. Accessed November 20, 2015. http://www.pittsburghcatholic.org/News/Returning-veteran-finds-reconciliation-in-Vietnam-.

Stallone, Sylvester. Rocky Balboa. USA, 2006.