The long way home

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Quo Vadis? My Latin is rusty, but I know the phrase literally translates as, “Where are you marching?” It was originally directed to a passing soldier in the Roman Empire. The question is really one of purpose: What are you doing?

These ancient words have come to mind with modern images of Russian troops in Ukraine. Where are they marching? What are they doing?

This much is clear: Vladimir Putin has isolated and estranged himself from the rest of the world. I have little sympathy for this madman whose actions have already cost thousands of lives and threatened global stability.

But what about those Russian soldiers? Have they all drunk the Kremlin’s Kool-Aid? Or do they harbor doubts about their mission or even sympathies for the Ukrainian people? Whether they realize it or not, they have been caught in a drama not of their own making.

In his novel about the Vietnam War, “The Things They Carried,” Tim O’Brien wrote, “War is hell, but that’s not the half of it because war is also mystery and terror and adventure and courage and discovery and holiness and pity and despair and longing and love.”

What are those Russian soldiers doing? What are they feeling?

One of the tactics of war is to dehumanize the enemy. I understand this strategy may be necessary to kill in battle.

But watching coverage from the safety of my home, I wonder how I might make those Russians soldiers human again. This is not to justify the atrocious invasion of their president, nor excuse the violence. Undoubtedly, some soldiers are misguided. We know others have committed heinous acts.

Yet, every soldier was once a child, and some of them have children of their own back home. To humanize another person is to recognize we all struggle and suffer, live and die. Especially when we find ourselves in foreign and terrible situations, we long for the safety, comfort and peace of home.

In his poem “Quo Vadis,” former poet laureate William Stafford wrote of “travel that takes you home.” This trip may not be easygoing. The word “travel” in both Western and Slavic languages can imply a sense of struggle, toil, even suffering. With ceasefire negotiations broken down between Ukraine and Russia, our world is far from a peaceful resolution. All signs point to a long, hard road ahead.

What about America? Where are we going? What are we feeling? The armed combatants overseas fight for their lives. Our struggle in this country is less obvious. As civilians, we must think beyond our immediate interests, such as the price of a gallon of gas or the political party of our president. Many of us pray, yet we must also strive to have empathy for others, even for our enemies. Remarkably, the Ukrainians are setting this example for us.

Even though the Russians have invaded their land and killed their children fleeing across bridges, the Ukrainian government has made it a point to contact the families of captured prisoners of war to assure their loved ones that they are alive. Not only that, but a recent video documented Ukrainian soldiers offering tea to a Russian soldier after he had surrendered. It was exactly as an ancient rabbi commanded: Do unto to others as you would have them do unto you. Wherever you go, those are good marching orders.

Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church. His newly-published book is a collection of his columns for the Chatham News + Record titled “Hope Matters: Churchless Sermons.”