It was one of those “light bulb moments” we can all recall, when a profound truth about life suddenly became very clear. I was a junior in high school, and was very excited about my American history class. The professor was particularly interesting.

The entire class was eager to reach World War II, since almost all of our dads had fought in that “good war.”

The day came, and we were assigned the chapter on the war for homework. The next day, Mr. Monaghan started his lecture by asking the question, “What was the major cause of World War II?”

Hands shot up: “The attack on Pearl Harbor!” a classmate replied. Not quite, our teacher explained, since the war had actually begun 15 months earlier than Dec. 7, 1941.

“Hitler’s war rhetoric,” came another response.

“Part of the reason, but not the reason,” answered Mr. Monaghan. On and on we went, dozens of answers from eager students, none completely correct, according to the teacher.

Finally, a suspenseful classroom was silent as we anticipated the correct answer. Mr. Monaghan looked at all of us. “The major cause of World War II,” he dramatically whispered, “was World War I.”

And for the next 45 minutes he made his point, backing it up with the writings of other historians. The bitter memories of the unprecedented carnage of the 1914-1918 War, the inequality and injustice of the Treaty of Versailles, the humiliation of the German people, and the poverty and despair of post-war Europe all created a climate ripe for a demagoguery that could only lead to yet another epic battle.

The “light bulb” went off in my own 17-year-old mind: war only leads to more war.

That moment came back as I recently read a comment from Pope Benedict XVI, in which he observed that Europeans have long concluded that no lasting good comes from war, even for the apparent victors.

Another masterful professor of history, Msgr. John Tracy Ellis, during his standing-room only lectures on “The Catholic Church in Modern Europe” during my graduate student days at The Catholic University of America, commented, “The popes of the 20th century are becoming prophets of Christian pacifism.”

He would begin with St. Pope Pius X who died literally of a broken heart a week after the outbreak of World War I in 1914, after trying desperately to stop it; he continued with Benedict XV, whose “Peace Plan” historians now assess as remarkably pointed and prophetic, but which was sarcastically dismissed by both sides.

Then came Pius XI, who stood up to the fanaticism of Hitler, Mussolini, and Stalin with thundering encyclicals, and who warned about signs of yet another cosmic battle; Pius XII was hailed for his diplomatic initiatives and pleas for peace as he could hear the bombs from his own bedroom.

Blessed Pope John XXIII issued Pacem in Terris, in which the beloved pontiff exhorted the world to peace in simple, poetic, evangelical language that moved both John F. Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev; Paul VI would stand before the United Nations on the Feast of St. Francis, 1965, and rivet the attention of world leaders with his poignant, terse words, “No more war! War never again!”

And John Paul the Great, himself born in the rubble of World War I, run down by a Nazi army truck in 1940, and harassed by Communism’s jackboots as a priest and bishop, would become the most indefatigable and effective apostle of world peace in memory. And now Benedict XVI continues the cause. In fact, as he wrote last New Year’s Day in his “Message for the World Day of Peace,” “The very name Benedict, which I chose on the day of my election to the Chair of Peter, is a sign of my personal commitment to peace.”

That litany of holy men calls to mind the words of the British historian, Arnold Toynbee, who said, “In his work for peace, the pope has the world as his parish.”

Well, clear enough, you might reply. What else are we to expect? After all, the pope is the Vicar of Christ, the Prince of Peace. No wonder he is consistently for peace and against war. But, for those of us in the “real world,” I’m sorry, but war is a fact of life.

Not quite. For those of us who claim to believe in Jesus Christ as the Son of God and our Savior, who take seriously our response to his call to discipleship, sealed in baptism and nourished by the Eucharist, who daily try to live as committed members of His church, judgment has to be in favor of peace over war. In the words of John Paul the Great, “War is never inevitable, but is always a defeat for humanity ... Christians are called to be sentinels of peace.”

St. Francis of Assisi, whose feast we anticipate next Wednesday, had it right. This “patron saint of peace” viewed peace as a reality, not just some vague, cerebral, ethical dream. As a matter of fact, his teaching would hold, it is peace that is realistic and pragmatic. It is peace that is the way things are meant to be; it is war that is the distortion, the exception.

Come to think of it, the realistic and effective peace movements that brought some light and hope to an otherwise dismal and deadly 20th century were all inspired by Jesus. One thinks of Mahatma Gandhi, who claimed that the Sermon on the Mount was the normative teaching in his life; Bishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa; Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the Baptist preacher of non-violence; Corazon Aquino, the architect of the peaceful revolution in the Philippines; Lech Walesa, the faithful son of Mary, Queen of Peace, in Poland; and, of course, John Paul II. Don’t tell me that peace is some pipe dream. It is a noble, obligatory Christian vocation!

As you know, last month 95 pilgrims from the archdiocese — myself among them — enjoyed a pilgrimage to Ireland, “In the Footsteps of St. Patrick.” Much of our

time was spent in Northern Ireland. I had not been there in nearly a decade, and was elated to find peace in Northern Ireland! I saw no tanks, no bayonets, no soldiers in camouflage, no barbed wire, no border patrols, as I had previously.

“What happened?”I kept asking our hosts. The answer they gave was this: two things “happened” – one from above, the other from below.

From “above,” political leaders and civic officials – in Northern Ireland, England, the Republic of Ireland, and even (to our pride) from the United States – got serious about negotiation, compromise, and strategy.

But, our hosts insisted, something happened from “below”: individuals, moms, dads, priests, sisters, leaders, simply got fed-up with bloodshed, bombs, bullets, violence, revenge, and retaliation. From kitchen tables to parishes, from neighborhoods to churches, from towns to cities, from farms to factories, the people of the north said, enough! Bolstered by faith and prayer, burdened by memories and anxiety, exhausted by funeral processions and security checks, the word went out: We cannot live this way. We do not want to die this way. It’s over!

This is... The Preferential Option for Peace.

Now... and here’s the “hot-button issue” ... is war always and everywhere (intrinsically) evil?

We have to respond, no. The answer is important enough to quote directly from The Catechism of the Catholic Church (#2309):

“The strict conditions for legitimate defense by military force require rigorous consideration. The gravity of such a decision makes it subject to rigorous conditions of moral legitimacy. At one and the same time:

— the damage inflicted by the aggressor on the nation or community of nations must be lasting, grave, and certain;

— all other means of putting an end to it must have been shown to be impractical or ineffective;

— there must be serious prospects of success;

— the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. The power of modern means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.”

Thus, on rare, carefully assessed situations, military action as a last resort can be morally justified, and the defense of one’s country in such endeavors can indeed be a noble duty. Pope John Paul II himself, for instance, called for the international community to organize peace-keeping forces to end the “ethnic cleansing” and horror of civil war in the former Yugoslavia, remember?

Which brings us to the current urgent debate on the war in Iraq. Thoughtful voices can be heard on both sides, one maintaining that American initiatives in Iraq are morally licit and meet the classical requirements of a “just war,” the other holding that our military action there is not only a political disaster but clearly immoral. Both sides agree in expressing high regard for our men and women in uniform, who are most exposed to danger, and who are most desirous of the establishment of peace and a return safely home.

It must be stated that the voices of Pope John Paul II and of Benedict XVI (both as pontiff and as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger), as well as of the bishops of the United States, strongly and consistently question the wisdom and morality of this current war.

As believers, we can condemn the atrocities of Saddam’s regime, defend our country’s right to defend itself against international terror, and honor our nation’s brave troops, while still holding that our military action in Iraq cannot be morally justified, as more and more of us seem to be concluding.

As St. Francis yearned, “Lord, make me a channel of our peace!” – a prayer as urgent today as ever before.