Before We March Again: What If We Stopped to Really Look?
- Martin Jarvis
- Jun 20
- 4 min read
There’s a lot happening in the world right now, and for many, it feels like we’re on the edge of something big. Something dangerous. Once again, we’re being nudged—slowly but surely—toward war. The headlines may say it’s about Israel and Iran, but if you look beneath the surface, it’s also about us. Our country. Our people. Our future.
In my last blog, I spoke directly to religious folks—those who are sincere in their support of Israel but may not realize just how much of that support is built on misunderstanding.
I wasn’t criticizing anyone’s faith. I was simply offering a reality check based on scripture. And I’ll say it again here: most of us have never truly studied the Bible for ourselves. We’ve inherited beliefs from pastors, parents, and tradition—but not always from truth.
Now, I’m a Christian minister. But I don’t say that as someone stuck in dogma. I say it as someone who’s walked this path with my eyes open. I used to be an atheist, and that journey has given me a unique lens—not just of faith, but of reality. And the reality is this: we are being led into another conflict. One that doesn’t have to be ours.
The last time America truly won a war was World War II—and that was with the help of strong allies and a united homeland. Since then? Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan... our firepower was unmatched, but we still lost—because we misunderstood the people we were fighting. We underestimated them. We didn’t listen. And now, here we are again.
But this time, it’s worse.
Our military isn’t led by seasoned veterans with deep experience. Many of them were fired. In their place are political appointees—people who may wear the title but lack the weight. And sadly, too many are “yes-men,” chasing position more than principle.
We are not the same nation we once were. Our alliances have shifted. Even countries that once leaned heavily on Israel are now choosing new partners, not because they agree on values—but because economics speak louder than ideology.
So what are we doing?
Why are we still tying ourselves to a nation whose actions have repeatedly stirred tension in an already fragile region? Why are we sacrificing our people, our money, and our peace for something we can’t control and might not even truly understand?
I say this not out of malice—but out of love. I feel sorrow for the Israeli people. I feel sorrow for the Palestinian people. I feel sorrow for the Iranian people, the Ukrainians, the Russians, and for everyday Americans who work hard and live quietly—people who are always the ones to pay the highest price when the powerful make decisions in secret.
Because let’s be honest: it’s rarely the leaders who suffer. It’s the sons. The daughters. The neighbors. The soldiers. It’s people like you and me who live with the consequences.
And somewhere in all of this, we’ve been told that to even question our loyalty to Israel is antisemitic. That’s a heavy accusation. But let’s unpack that for a moment.
Antisemitism is real, and history has proven how dangerous it can be. But history has also shown that we conveniently ignore other forms of hatred. Anti-Black. Anti-Mexican. Anti-Muslim. Anti-immigrant. Anti-poor. We’ve turned antisemitism into a moral spotlight—while leaving others in the dark. And ironically, most Israelis today are not even Semitic by lineage. So what are we really defending?
What we should be defending is truth.
What we should be defending is peace.
What we should be defending is the value of every life—not just the lives we’re told to care about.
As a military veteran from a family of military veterans, I hold deep respect for our armed forces. I love our military. But I’ve grown cautious of the civilian leadership that too often plays political chess with military lives. Time and again, we’re dragged into fights we shouldn’t be in—fights built on fiction, pride, or profit.
What Israel did by striking Iran was reckless. And now they’re facing retaliation. Their missile defense system is being overwhelmed. And once again, America is being drawn into a fire that isn’t ours. But we still have a choice.
We can choose to walk away—not in betrayal, but in wisdom.
We can choose diplomacy. Economics. Alliances that build stability—not war.
We don’t need to keep propping up one nation’s poor decisions in order to prove our loyalty. We don’t need to get caught in their battles to prove we’re not antisemitic.
And we certainly don’t need another generation of American names on another wall.
This moment in history calls for maturity. For clarity. For compassion rooted in truth.
We have work to do in our own house. Division. Corruption. Poverty. Racism. Gun violence. Mistrust. If we’re going to be a beacon to the world, then we’d better make sure the light is on here first.
Maybe the most patriotic thing we can do right now… is pause. To reflect. To ask hard questions. And to have the courage to say: “Not this time.”
Because this time, the cost may be too great.
Peace.
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