Remembering "The Great War" Again

Remembering “The Great War” Again

“This is a war to end all wars.”—Woodrow Wilson.

I remember when we celebrated the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I, the Great War, the War to End All Wars. The war officially ended in 1918 on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. In 2018, at 11 a.m. on November 11th, or Veterans Day in the morning, bells tolled in churches all over the globe. Special programs about the war were held worldwide, most notably in England, Paris, and France, where the world’s diplomats met to commemorate the peace accord that ended the war.

Both of my grandfathers served in the war and came home. I never heard Grandfather Johnson speak about his experience. The other, Grandfather Whaley, rarely talked about the war itself, but he had much to say about his time in the army. He was born in what is now the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. Joining the armed service was his higher education.

When I was in college, my grandfather wrote to me weekly on his old typewriter, whose keys often stuck. The lines of type were uneven. Every letter, however, was full of his army experiences and how he related them to my new life in college. He would remind me that book learning was not the most important part of my new life. He believed the best lessons were found in the people I would meet and the places where I would travel. Almost every sentence ended with etc., etc., etc. 

I kept every one of his letters. The girls on my dorm floor would gather each week to hear about his wisdom from his life experiences in the army during World War I, half a century earlier—and about his present life in small-town Virginia. 

 My latest book, Letters from my Grandfather, is about my grandfather’s letters and my response to him now, more than fifty years later.

Did I forget to mention that my grandfather always included a dollar bill with each letter?

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Learning From friends and Kate Bowler About Being Human Because of Our Limitations: Acceptance

Learning from Friends and Kate Bowler About Being Human Because of Our Limitations: Acceptance

Today, a friend and I were talking about our limitations. During the conversation, I said, so righteously, that I tried not to let my limitations define me. Shortly afterward, I read Kate Bowler’s weekly writing: “Are there forms of truth-telling that can ONLY come from our limitations, our faults, our quirks, our suffering, our humanity? What would that be like, if you trusted yourself to be a person who can face the future not in spite of your limitations but because of them? Without our limitations, suffering, quirks, humanity, how can we possibly say that we have discovered what it means to be human?”1

Bowler went on to ask us to write about times when our suffering made us more human rather than less so, changed our minds, made us apologize, made us laugh at ourselves, or enabled us to sit with someone else’s sadness rather than try to solve it. 

First of all, what serendipity that our conversation and Kate’s writing came so close together. That always makes me pause and realize there is truth in this connection.

I have witnessed in my own life affirmations of all her writing prompts. I have learned to apologize more freely for not accepting the actions of people who became that way because of their suffering, and to see their goodness rather than seeing them as all bad. I have come to laugh at myself when I start doing the same things my parents did, things I knew I would never do. Each day, I know more and more about how to listen, listen, and listen to people in pain instead of being there to fix them. More and more, I see God using me, defects and all, especially teaching me to accept others because of the suffering and mistakes in my own life.

The paradox: A mistake is not a mistake unless we don’t learn from it.

But not every mistake is a learning lab.

1 Kate Bowler, “You are not a Robot. Yet, on Authenticity, Abraham Lincoln, and Why Your Limitations are the Whole Point, ” Kate Bowler from Everything Happens, August 19. 2026

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Love Thy Neighbor

Love Thy Neighbor

“We are all rooted together in the ground of consciousness, God’s gift to all of us, and our joining is absolute. When the Islamic mullah prays with a true, quiet heart, I believe the souls of the Iowa farmer and the Welsh miner are touched. When the gong sounds in the Japanese monastery and the monks enter the timeless silence of Zazen, their quiet nourishes the Brazilian native and the Manhattan executive. When Jews and Christians pray with true willingness, the Hindu scientist and the Russian policeman are enriched.”—Gerald G. May, Will and Spirit (HarperOne, 1982), pp. 319–320.

 Many authors remind us of our connection to nature and the world around us. Others remind us of our relationship with the poor, the weak, the sick, and the lonely. Gerald May reminds us of our connection to other religions—how the Spirit moves along so many different paths we do not understand. Too deep for words. 

There is more to this than simply recognizing God at work in so many varied ways. May also tells us that this Spirit intimately connects us. What we do to further the Spirit, to connect with God in our own day and in our own way, makes a difference across the globe, even in some distant rainforest. 

Again, this relationship is a profound mystery beyond our knowing. Sometimes, when I read this passage from May, I sit and almost feel the Iowa farmer working his black dirt, a reminder of our four years spent in Iowa City training. Then I try to cross the Atlantic to England. I can connect with the shepherd, his dogs, and the sheep striding through green pastures because we have made several trips to England and Scotland. 

Given our current political situation, I am finding it increasingly difficult to connect with the people in Russia. I have never been there, but I have always wanted to visit St. Petersburg to see Rembrandt’s Return of the Prodigal Son at the Hermitage Museum. Next time I watch a newscast from Russia, I will look at it and try to imagine the people there rather than the leaders. I think this could make a difference. Perhaps they are doing the same for us.

I am also reminded of Arkansas’ Interfaith Friendship Camp, where children from different religions come to play and learn about each other’s traditions.

Saint Mark’s also hosts an interfaith service, “Love Thy Neighbor,” in September, connecting us to the music and dancing of many faith traditions. Afterward, we share a meal together.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/