By Gary W. Farris
“Al-Zarqawi Dead”, the headline said, 144-point type catching the eye.
I imagine the soldiers in Iraq celebrating: “Yes! We got him” they would shout,
thumping one another and shaking hands.
I don’t blame them at all,
They fear each day Abu Musab’s handiwork—meet his disciples on a bloody
field of battle with no winners and victory precious.
Their sacrifice earns them any joy they can find.
But my heart weeps for a nation, which,
in large, bold type celebrates
the end of a human life,
the end of hopes and dreams for a family;
Exults in perceived punishment instead of potential redemption.
Abu Musab had a family, children, cousins, all
mourning their loss this afternoon in a dry, hot desert, made
to bloom and survive by the handiwork of his ancestors,
by the sweat and toil of true followers of the
Prophet. heeding his call to seek godliness.
I can’t say where the turning point is,
Where the teachings of peace and strength and God
turn to acts of violence and hatred and vengeance.
Where hands that should be building community and faith
turn to tools of death and sorrow.
I know it is a step-by-step degeneration,
Inspired not at all by a tolerant and loving deity, but
by human beings striving for power, wealth, for
deep lusts conjured up from natural human sources,
Further stained by satanic enticing.
In this, my heart weeps for two nations.
The first,
victimized by those who would claim to lead it
to a paradisiacal existence through hellish means, through
destruction of fellow-citizens,
Fellow-worshippers of a one true God.
The second,
A nation of people blind,
unable to fathom or imagine
our own complicity,
our own lusts and greed
Which have helped pave this path.
“Al-Zarqawi Dead”; finally, a semblance of victory,
But there is no victory in death.