My Crusade

Centuries ago some distant relative of mine traveled over land and sea for the chance to fight in the name of Christianity. As he embarked on that quest his heart pounded with pride and his spirit swelled with hope that his battles would deal a mortal blow all enemies of God. Battles defined by the very essence of a fight between all that was good and all that was evil.

He would have fought under the emblem of the Jerusalem cross. Could there be anything more sacred, anything more worthwhile, than defending his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He would have been told of severe, brutal and barbaric persecutions of his brothers in the gospel, his fellow Christian by savage Turks. He would believe that those who had been labeled infidels had usurped holy land that had been divinely granted to those of the faith of Christ. He would have been taught that the call to do battle was obedience to the very command of Christ himself.

Throughout time, acts of individual brutality, national oppression and international war have been waged and maintained with leaders using the name of God or His prophets to justify and even glorify carnage. The brutal killings in Paris thrust these thoughts to the forefront of my mind and remind me that mortifying humiliation and cause for shame extends beyond any one religious dogma. Evil, done in the name of the greater good and by command of God, makes up too many of the threads that weave the tapestry of human history.

When people commit these acts of terror we hear worldwide condemnation and outrage. Then the conversation begins to seek labels to define the perpetrators of these horrors.  Is there some comfort knowing they are extremists? Am I supposed to feel better because I am a Christian and these people professed Islam? We are told of flaws in their character and psychology because we want to believe that we live in a world where good will prevail. We seek comfort that those who would do such acts are not like us. We do all we can to find those differences.

But sometimes when we identify those differences, we link them to others who have no such horrible flaws. When we use the labels of Christianity and Islam in the context of these killings we run the very risks of broadening the divide rather than creating a bridge. While we must seek these people and invoke punishment upon them I can see no justice for them. There is no punishment that is fair. But we can find justice for us. We can be greater than the terror they esteem. The one reason to not respond to terror with greater terror is because it is not fair to us.

And I have hope. Each day people who had differences that were once fatal, talk, play, and live in peace. I suspect we will never live free from tragedy and horror, but I will continue to try.