My understanding of war, violence and just war theory in a Catholic lens

2,985 Views | 40 Replies | Last: 5 days ago by nortex97
Sapper Redux
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There's a new biography of Tojo that goes into the historiography and evidence in some detail. While the Army was hellbent on fighting to the last, the civilian leadership was not and the emperor was leaning towards the peace position well before the atomic bombs were dropped.
Eliminatus
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AG
Sapper Redux said:

There's a new biography of Tojo that goes into the historiography and evidence in some detail. While the Army was hellbent on fighting to the last, the civilian leadership was not and the emperor was leaning towards the peace position well before the atomic bombs were dropped.


Ah. Neat! I'll have to check that out. I know he had a falling out with the Emperor and was forced to resign but that was always chalked up to military failures I thought. And yes, I do remember now that some of the civilians did want to look into peace but the assumption I had was that they held so little power and influence it was effectively pointless to even consider.

I just know that after the extremely bitter struggle of Okinawa where the fighting was some of the most brutal by the Japanese, "peace" was not shown to be at the forefront of Japanese policy. Not to mention the civilian populace there effectively following the same mindset which really sealed the fate of Hiroshima and Nagasaki IMO. I will never blame our commanders for taking this evidence (along with all the other islands) to heart.

Thanks
Eliminatus
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As to the OP, I am so far outside my lane here, being non religious.

But I will offer my simple take on it from that viewpoint. The Popes are men. Period. Men who as often as not are just interested in political/sociological maneuverings as religious ones. This is just a direct jab at an unpopular war right now. I wouldn't read too much into it. It can be picked apart so readily it's not even worth the effort IMO.
PabloSerna
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Setting the people aside for a minute, do you think there is a justification for the use of force based on this idea of self defense and the defense of the weak?
nortex97
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The RCC's history is actually replete with brave warriors of the faith, who stood up against evil oppressive regimes and aggression, both physically themselves, and in conflicts.

These men and women still exist within the denomination, imho, they are just not represented very often in leadership. (Caveat, I'm not Roman Catholic of course, this is just my opinion).
nortex97
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Another story of a brave RCC priest incredibly bravely standing up to evil regimes in history, citing the Gospel.

Quote:

In 1937, Rupert Mayer stood in his pulpit at St. Michael's Church in Munich and preached against Hitler.

By then, Germany had been a Nazi dictatorship for four years. Most priests remained silent. Most bishops tried to negotiate with the regime. Most Germans cheered. Mayer preached the opposite.

He was 61 years olda Jesuit priest in a black cassock, standing on a wooden prosthetic leg. He had lost his original leg 21 years earlier. Here is how he got there.

Rupert Mayer was born in Stuttgart on January 23, 1876, the son of a prosperous merchant. He wanted to be a Jesuit from his teens, but at his father's request, he became a diocesan priest first. He was ordained in 1899 at age 23, and a year later, he finally entered the Jesuit novitiate.

By 1912, he had settled in Munich, the city he would serve for the rest of his life. After World War I, Munich was a broken placefull of jobless veterans, hungry families, and people drifting in from the countryside with no housing or hope. Mayer went to work. He collected food and clothing, found jobs, and walked the streets at night to visit the poor. He walked, then hobbled, then walked again on that wooden leg.

He had lost his leg during the Great War. Having volunteered as a military chaplain, he served in field hospitals and the trenches across France, Poland, and Romania. On December 30, 1916, a grenade exploded near him, destroying his left leg. He was awarded the Iron Cross, First Classthe first priest to receive one of Germany's highest military honors.

Back in Munich, he never stopped. By 1921, he was preaching at St. Michael's and celebrating Mass at the train station at 3:10 AM so workers could attend before their early shifts. The city began calling him "the Apostle of Munich."

Then came 1933. Adolf Hitler became Chancellor, and the Nazi Party began closing Catholic schools and trying to replace Christian identity with Nazi ideology. While much of the clergy stayed quiet to protect what they had, Mayer went straight to the pulpit. He preached against the Nazis by name, stating that a Catholic could not be a National Socialist and that Hitler's racial theories contradicted the Gospel.

The Gestapo began sending informants to his sermons. In 1937, they ordered him to stop speaking in public altogether. He obeyed the letter of the law by avoiding rallies, but he returned to his pulpit and preached harder than ever.

He was arrested on June 5, 1937. At his trial, he told the judge: "Despite the ban imposed on me, I shall preach further, even if the state deems it a punishable act." He was given a suspended sentence, but he didn't stop. He was arrested a second time in 1938, then a third time in 1939. This time, the Gestapo tried to force him to break the seal of confession to reveal the names of Nazi opponents. Mayer refused.

At age 63, the one-legged priest was sent to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp and placed in solitary confinement. His health collapsed quickly. Fearing that his death in the camp would create a martyr, the Nazis moved him to Ettal Abbey under house arrest in 1940. For five years, he was forbidden to preach, leave, or receive visitors. He waited and prayed while his country destroyed itself.

On May 11, 1945, American soldiers liberated the Abbey. A U.S. officer personally drove Mayer back to the ruins of Munich. He climbed back into his damaged pulpit at St. Michael's and told the congregation: "Even a one-legged Jesuit, if it is God's will, can live longer than a 'thousand-year' dictatorship."

He spent his final months preaching reconciliation and forgiveness, refusing to call for revenge. On November 1, 1945, while preaching during Mass on All Saints' Day, he suffered a stroke and collapsed. He died within minutes, still in his vestments, still in his pulpit.

Mayer's story matters because when most chose survival over witness, he chose the truth. He could have stayed quiet, but as he told a Gestapo interrogator, ....

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