No War, No Peace

 

Historically, the slogan "No War, No Peace" refers back to Leon Trotsky (1879-1940), the Bolshevik leader of the Soviet negotiating team, trying at Breat-Litovsk in early 1918 to end the war with Germany and Austria-Hungary. Refusing to accede to Imperial Germany's severe territorial demands, Trotsky simply announced on February 10, 1918, that the Russian war was over and that the Soviets would cease active fighting. Trotsky's Bolshevik boss, Vladimir Lenin, initially went along with the "No War, No Peace" approach. After Germany resumed its military advance, however, Lenin pragmatically insisted that the Russian negotiators immediately agree to sign the treaty accepting Germany's harsh terms. So much for "No War, No Peace" as a strategic policy!

It is a very imperfect analogy, of course, but "No War, No Peace" is not an altogether inadequate description of the present impasse in the misbegotten war between the U.S. and Iran. Whatever the slogan's strategic limitations, Trotsky's "No War, No Peace" was at least a  policy of sorts. On the other hand, it is hard - on any given day - to divine what U.S. policy regarding Iran actually is, or indeed what the state of the conflict actually is. Are we negotiating? If so, with whom? Are we threatening "prompt and utter destruction" (as the world War II allies famously threatened Japan at Potsdam)? If so, with whom? Are we doing both at the same time? Or something else? Who knows? How would one know? 

Like so much of what the U.S. has done (or failed to do) in this war, Trotsky's "No War, No Peace" was an ad hoc adjustment to an uncontrollable reality. In fairness to Trotsky, however, the war was not one which the Bolsheviks had started, although, of course, they had benefited enormously from its traumatic effects on Russia. The Revolution had inherited the war from the Tsarist Regime, which shared responsibility for that colossal failure of European civilization with the other belligerent Powers on both sides. In contrast, the Iran War is entirely the result of U.S. decisions, a wholly self-induced foreign-policy debacle.

According to Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan's Regime Change (Simon and Schuster, 2026), the Administration's previous attack on Iran - the June 2025 "Operation Midnight Hammer" - began with Mass offered in the Vice President's office, attended by the Secretary of State and the White House Chief of Staff, who later said it was "to pray for the people." One wonders whether any comparable prayers were offered the following February when the current war was being launched?

All of which, of course, brings us back to the original mistake, the misbegotten character of the conflict, displayed in the problematic decision-making recently described so poignantly, for example, in Haberman and Swan's same riveting account and which continues to bedevil the U.S. today. It is widely alleged that the Administration would like just to be able to quit the war somehow. One is reminded of October 1966, when Senator George Aiken of Vermont famously suggested that the United States should just unilaterally declare that it had won the Vietnam War, using this "victory" as an excuse to de-escalate American involvement in Vietnam. But unilaterally declaring "victory," would not open the Strait of Hormuz. The Iranians just don't seem to want to cooperate with American face-saving - unsurprisingly, given their long history of malevolent anti-Americanism and their past success at humiliating American presidents. Meanwhile, the war continues to take a terrible toll on the world economy, on American military resources, and on our on-site personnel (as evidenced by the recent revelations about conditions on the American aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln, which themselves highlight the defective nature of American war planning). 

Perhaps, prayers really are what the situation calls for. But divine intervention to bail us out - what the ancients called a Deus ex machina -  cannot be counted on. At the end of The Odyssey (Homer's, not Nolan's modernized version), when Odysseus and his rivals seemed stuck in a pattern of further fighting that threatened almost unending civil conflict in Ithaka, Athena herself intervened. She "cried with her clarion voice and forced the whole host to stop," and Zeus reinforced her intervention with a decisive thunderbolt. Odysseus "obeyed, his heart rejoicing. They were made to swear oaths to each other, to endure for all time to come" (tr. Daniel Mandelsohn, U. of Chicago Pr., 2025, 530, 545-546).

Would a clarion call to "Stop," backed by a thunderbolt or two make a difference in this war? Actually, one might suggest that more than a few such thunderbolts have metaphorically already been hurled as warnings both before and during this conflict, to little or no avail. So, on it goes, "No War, No peace." 

Photo: Leon Trotsky and his fellow Bolshevik negotiators arriving and meeting their German counterparts at Brest-Litovsk station on January 15, 1918.

Blessed Be Her Glorious Assumption - Even on Saturday

 

"To day is the holy day of the Assumption of the dear blessed Mary other of our Lord and Saviour Jesus. Oh may I be found worthy of her regard and love." So wrote the then 24-year old Servant of God Isaac Thomas Hecker in his Diary on August 15, 1844, exactly two weeks after his entry into the Catholic Church.

La Madonna di mezz'agosto was how my Sicilian grandmother used to refer to today's festival of the Assumption (typically termed, as in the Divine Praises, the "Glorious" Assumption) of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which has been celebrated on this same date for so many centuries.

Unfortunately, in the United States this year, because it falls on a Saturday, the Assumption is not being kept as a holy day of obligation, for reasons which may seem inexplicable at best and (like so many other contemporary religious mistakes) may also seem self-destructive in terms of the Church's visible and public presence in people's lives today.

In contrast, early on in American history the Assumption received special attention and solemnity in the newly created the United States as the patronal feast of Baltimore, the first U.S. diocese (then encompassing the entire territory of the new country). In his first pastoral letter to his extensive American diocese, Bishop John Carroll called on all U.S. Catholics to celebrate the feast: "to unite with one heart, and in one earnest supplication to the father of all mercies, and the giver of every good gift, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, that he may be graciously pleased to preserve, increase, and diffuse a sincere and well-grounded attachment to the principles of our holy religion; to advert from us the seduction of error and pestilential infidelity; to awaken and renew in us the spirit of solid piety, and of watchfulness over your unruly passions; to animate us to the fulfilling of all the commandments; to pour down on our country blessings spiritual and temporal; and to receive our grateful and humble thanks for the innumerable favors, which we continually receive from a Bountiful Providence." 

Certainly, Saturday or not, that remains a worthy prayer agenda for this happy feast in our own troubled time as well!

Early traditions saw Mary's death (her "Dormition") as an extraordinary event. It is thought that traditions about Mary's Dormition and her accompanying Assumption can be traced as far back as the second century. Whatever may be inferred from those ancient narratives, Eastern Orthodox Christians affirm that, after Mary had died a natural death, her final resurrection was anticipated and she was carried completely, body as well as soul, into the glory of heaven. Accordingly, they celebrate the Dormition of Theotokos on August 15, preceded by a strict 14-day fast. Roman Catholics regrettably abandoned virtually all remnants of the ancient ascetic Christian practice of fasting decades ago.  That said,  we likewise also affirm faith in Mary's body-and-soul assumption and also celebrate it on this same ancient date. (Catholic teaching, now formally dogmatically defined by Pope Pius XII in 1950, leaves it an open question whether Mary actually died and was then raised up to heaven or whether she was directly assumed into heaven without having died first.)

In 1946, Pope Pius XII, in a letter to the world's bishops Deiparae Virginis Mariae, asked them:

"Do you, venerable brethren, in your outstanding wisdom and prudence, judge that the bodily Assumption of the Blessed Virgin can be proposed and defined as a dogma of faith? Do you, with your clergy and people, desire it?" To this inquiry, the Pope received an unsurprisingly resounding response, which he characterized as "outstanding agreement of the Catholic prelates and the faithful." This showed, the Pope claimed, "the concordant teaching of the Church's ordinary doctrinal authority and the concordant faith of the Christian people which the same doctrinal authority sustains and directs" (Munificentissimus Deus, 12). 

Those were the days! Try to imagine such concordance in today's conflict-ridden factionalized world! Try to reimagine today the missionary self-confidence and future-oriented hopefulness expressed in that Holy Year of 1950 in the papal bull defining the by-then fully accepted Catholic doctrine!

Preaching at the Sixth National Marian Congress of France in July 1950, the Papal Nuncio to France, Archbishop Angelo Roncalli (the future Pope Saint John XXIII) composed this prayer:

O Mary, Mother of Jesus and our Mother too! We hail you with this cry that all generations repeat, contemplating the mysteries of your life and the splendor of your Assumption. Once more we hail you as blessed, beata; intercede for us, O glorious Queen of the world and be ever mindful of us, particularly in the dangers and needs of the present hour.

Photo: The Crowning of Mary, Queen of Heaven, Mural by Willian Lauren Harris, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY.

To watch a video (with commentary in french) of the proclamation fo the assumption by Pope Pius XII in 1950, go to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-AKESyTZZM8.

Theo - A Kris Kringle for our Dispirited Age

 

Every Christmastime, I rewatch Miracle on 34th Street. Originally, however, that famous film was released in summer and was not initially presented as a Christmas movie. To me, how a film that features Santa Claus could not be a Christmas movie defies all explanation! That said, Santa Claus aside, Miracle on 34th Street is a movie about how someone who personifies goodness brings joy to other people's lives and gets them to do good things that they probably ought to have had enough sense to do on their own, but never would have. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi (Atria Books, 2025) has a similar feel (minus the Christmas context), highlighting classically human themes of friendship and kindness, mutual service, and responding to the sadness and loneliness so endemic in modern American life.

Allen Levi originally self-published his novel through Amazon in the fall of 2023, but the book really took off in 2025 and has since became a huge success, finding its way onto the New York Times "Bestsellers" list for weeks. The story follows "Theo" - an 86-year-old Portuguese-born man, who uses only his first name - through his eventful year as a visitor residing in a Southern Georgia town called Golden. Theo focuses much of the year buying up portraits of local residents. The portraits had been done by a local artist named Asher. Theo sees them hanging on display (and for sale) in a local coffee shop called The Chalice. Theo's plan in purchasing the portraits himself is to give them as gifts to their subjects. First, Theo sends the portrait’s subjects a handwritten letter on fine paper, inviting them to come to the prearranged meeting place, promising that he’s “a harmless old man, a widower, a father, a toothless lion with only innocent intentions.” For the most part, the recipients of the portraits and the other locals whom Theo befriends respond positively to his generosity and prove to be grateful for an opportunity to tell Theo their story.

Much of the novel is about the unique network of generosity and mutual friendship which Theo creates, and how most of the others in downtown Golden respond to his initiatives. The author supposedly turned down offers from a Christian publisher for Theo of Golden. Even so, this is a novel permeated with a Christian sensibility, with occasional references to both Christian beliefs (e.g. heaven) and practices (e.g. Sunday churchgoing).  The novel’s conclusion features a Christian funeral service that includes an edifying homily on the story of the Risen Christ's encounter with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. (Since Theo is Portuguese his religious background would presumably have been Catholic. The local church, however, although the minister is a Father Lundy, looks somewhat generically, non-denominationally Christian.)

If the novel has a particular weakness, it is that the conclusion which ties everyone and everything together appears a bit too contrived, which (to my mind) may actually diminish the gratuity of Theo's kindness. The book could also have been a little tighter (i.e. shorter), the main point having been made and remade multiple times. (Rare is the book that couldn't benefit from being shorter!) That said, it is a beautiful story that highlights hope for humanity and prioritizes authentic Christian values in this time when such contrary values seem to predominate in our culture and in our politics.

As Father Lunday says: "For a year, he was in our midst and now, looking back, can't we say that, when we were with him, our hearts burned within us, our souls stood on tiptoe, our eyes recognized something good and true, and our minds could believe, if not fully, then ever so slightly, that love and heaven and forgiveness are the most real things that we can know in this world?"

Rome's Third Patron

 

Quam clarificata est Jerosolyma Stephano, tam illustris fieret Roma Laurentio ("As Jerusalem is made glorious by Stephen, so Rome is made illustrious by Lawrence"). So said Saint Leo the Great preaching on today's feast of the great Roman deacon-martyr Lawrence. Back in 2012, during my time at "Saints School" in Rome, I got to visit three Roman churches named for Saint Lawrence - San Lorenzo in Lucina, San Lorenzo in Panisperna (honoring the site of Lawrence's martyrdom), and the great Basilica of Saint Lawrence Outside the Walls, where Lawrence is buried. (The Photo above is of the altar at the site of his burial).

 

Christian Rome produced many martyrs - among them Pope Sixtus II and four other Roman deacons, whose memory we commemorated at Mass just last Friday, who were martyred just four days before Lawrence in 258 during the persecution of Emperor Valerian. 

What made Lawrence stand out so?

 

As deacon, Lawrence was apparently in charge of the material possessions of the Roman Church and of its alms for the poor. According to tradition, after the execution of Pope Sixtus the Prefect demanded that Lawrence turn over the Church's treasure. Supposedly, Lawrence quickly distributed as much of the Church's property as possible to the poor and then went to the Prefect and presented to him the poor. "Behold in these poor," Lawrence said to the Prefect, "the treasures I promised to show you." 

In the late 20th century, it became quite common to talk about a "preferential option for the poor." Lawrence lived it. Hence his standout status in 3rd-century Rome - and a good reason why we remember (and hopefully imitate) him even today.

Homily for the feast of Saint Lawrence, Saint Paul the Apostle Church, NY, August 10, 2026.

Pompeii: Out of Time

 

One of the many side-benefits of the popularity of Christoper Nolan's blockbuster movie The Odyssey has been a widespread increase in interest in classics generally. For me personally, it led directly to my discovery of Mary Beard's fascinating and entertaining podcast Instant Classics. And it was on Instant Classics that I learned about Pompeii: Out of Time, a three-part documentary-drama television series recently produced for National Geographic and hosted and executive-produced by British actor (and Cambridge-trained classicist) Tom Hiddleston.

Hiddleston's series sets out to identify residents who might have escaped the disaster. Working with the "Pompeii Survivors Project," Hiddleston cross-references names inscribed on objects and buildings found in Pompeii with names that also appear elsewhere in the Roman world after the eruption (traditionally dated August 24, AD 79). He thus follows the fates of three individuals, who might have had potential to survive: Avianius, a headstrong teenager from a downwardly mobile family currently apprenticed to a bronze smith; Julia Felix, a wealthy businesswoman who owned a bathhouse on her estate; and an otherwise unidentified soldier, possibly a Praetorian Guardsman, whose belongings were recovered at the elite beach resort of Herculaneum several miles from Pompeii and even closer to Vesuvius.

In the first episode, "Tremors," Hiddleston follows some of the early signs from Vesuvius  as earthquakes disrupt the city. He follows Avianius and Julia Felix while he counts down to the beginning of the eruption. A key concept here is Hiddleston's desire to challenge the popular idea that Pompeii was destroyed without any warning, What in fact he examines is the different physical, social, and psychological pressures which contributed to each individual's eventual real-time decision to flee immediately or to delay during the appoximately 30 hours over which the tragedy transpired..

In the second episode, Hiddleston depicts the first four phases of the eruption. We watch as daylight disappears into darkness. (The fifth phase will be the final pyroclastic flows which ultiately buried the two cities intact for centuries.)  Hiddleston highlights the attempted flight from Herculaneum (dramatized as led by the Praetorian Guardsman.) As pyroclastic surges begin, hundreds will die not in Hurculaneum itself but on the beach from which they were trying to flee. He also highlights how Julia Felix tries to maneuver her household and customers away from the disaster.

In the third episode, Hiddleston uncovers possible evidence about the tragic fates of Avianius and Julia Felix, and considers what survival would have meant in practice for Pompeii's residents.

I guess it is a clever technique to bring us along following particular persons, expecting (or at least given initial reasons to hope) that they will survive. However, hoping our characters will survive only leads to disappointment when in the end most don't make it. Of course, it highlights the dramatic pathos of the event, but we already know it was a titanic catastrophe! By tracing the specific stories of particular people, Hiddleston seems to be trying to make that catastrophe come alive and its tragic character so much more personal for us as observers.

One of the three apparently did survive, however. Avianius apparently made it, although his mother did not, facts attested by a subsequent gravestone. For Avianius, survival meant moving on alone in the world. Survival too - for the few who, totally traumatized and now alone, did survive - was also tragic in its own very deep way.

My grandmother grew up in the shadow of Italy's other active volcano, Mount Etna near Catania, Sicily (which is making herself heard again as this is written!). As a child, I remember worrying that a volcano might erupt in the Bronx! There was never any danger of that, of course. But volcanoes continue to endanger our fragile human world - as Vesuvius itself may yet someday do once again! The twin traumas of massive deaths and traumatized survivors may yet continue to haunt our tragedy-burdened world.