The Prayer of St Ephraim the Syrian
O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, meddling, lust of power, and idle talk.
But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to thy servant.
Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own sins and not to judge my brother for Thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen.
May 11, 10:40 PM
What a strange juxtaposition of events. One day we were singing joyously “Christ is risen!” and only a week later came the news “bin Laden is dead.” I wonder if I am the only one who feels the tension of that contradiction, or even sees the contradiction at all. Surely I cannot be alone in this.
It is not that I am denying death. I know too well that death is still something we all must face. The contradiction I see is in self-styled Christians announcing in the media that this was a necessary outcome. The contradiction is in the celebrations that broke out after the news came. O Judgement! Thou art fled to brutish beasts, and men have lost their reason! How can we shout “Christ is risen,” then in the next breath celebrate the death of a man- any man?
Some may argue that by bin Laden’s death countless others may be saved from his plots. Maybe, but al-Qaeda will not go away. No doubt several others, his sons perhaps, have already risen up in his place, preaching the same hate, the same violence. How can we know anyone has truly been spared?
Some may argue that he deserved it. No doubt, he did. I cannot help but question the sufficiency of that argument, though.
Tolkien deals with this question in the mines of Moria through the mouth of Frodo, when he discovers the evil Gollum is following him. The wisdom of Gandalf is worth repeating.
FRODO
It’s a pity Bilbo didn’t kill him when he had the chance.
GANDALF
Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand. Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?
Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment… even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.
I cannot shake the feeling that we as a nation are walking around like Lady MacBeth with blood on our hands, and that this is a stain we will not be able to wash out. Can we give life to the dead? No? Then what business do we have taking it from the living? How dare we play God, deciding who lives or dies, setting ourselves up as judge, jury, and executioner. Did this man deserve to die? Sure, but by the standards of righteousness, so do we.
It has been a week and a half, and still there is the sting of it shouldn’t have happened this way. Rational arguments say we had to do something. It is expedient for one man to die for the people. (Funny, that sounds familiar.) The trouble with rational arguments is that faith is not rational. It is most decidedly not based on the rational. Faith is, always has been, and always will be spiritual, and the spiritual life is often counter-intuitive.
Do not ask me what we should have done instead. I have little interest in political discussions, nor do I think they would be at all productive at this point. What I do know is we “deal out death in judgement” at the risk of our own souls.
The question, I suppose, is whether I really want to follow Jesus or not. If not, then I am free to plaster the internet and airwaves with my hatred for another human being. If, however, I honestly want to follow Jesus, if, like Paul, I wish to be a slave to righteousness, then I must deny myself, take up my cross, and follow Jesus. I must see every man, even the most monstrous, as a living breathing image of God and treat him as such. Rather than wish him dead or rejoice at his demise, I must pray for his salvation. And I must continue this even if it costs me my own life. This, after all, is what Jesus would do. This is what Jesus, his apostles, and countless others through the ages have done. If I wish to be counted among God’s friends, I must act like one of God’s friends.
Yes, it is irrational. Yes, it is counter-intuitive. But it is neither if I remember that this life is not all there is, and that my goal is not to last as long as possible here and somehow maybe cheat death. No, if my goal is Christ, then this makes all the sense in the world.
I certainly do not rejoice in a man’s death, nor do I think public celebration is wise or appropriate. However, I believe the issue may be more complex than that. We serve a God who is full of grace and peace, but also justice and vengeance. I prefer peace to violence as a default, but I believe there needs to be room for God to work through those He appoints, for His will (which we cannot pretend to know unless He tells us directly).
I’m curious to hear your response to this blog post; he says it better than I can, and with more first-hand experience: SEAL Pastor
— Elbie · 13 May 2011, 11:07 · #
Also, this one is interesting.
— Elbie · 13 May 2011, 11:34 · #
The “justice and vengeance of God,” Elbie, are viewed rather differently in Orthodoxy than how you suppose. Here is an article that deals with the difference in semantics.
Here is a shorter post more directly related to the events in question. This blog is loaded with good stuff on the subject. You might, when you have time, read his essay Christianity in a One-Storey Universe.
As for your friend HarmonicMiner, I think if the Christian response to tyranny were, in fact, as he suggested, the final book of the Bible would be more of Christians taking up arms and less of “No really, God is in control. Stand firm.” No, the Christian response to tyranny is prayer, patience, and long-suffering. There is no saint in history that I can think of who is remembered as a saint because they fought violence with violence. We do remember some murderers, but the distinction is that their lives of violence were interrupted and reformed by repentance.
Prayer is powerful. Someone (not necessarily you, but someone) might say that prayer is too passive and ignores the immediate threats posed by someone like bin Laden, but that argument points to a rather earth-bound view. If prayer were not powerful, we would not have the story of the furnace that had one too many occupants, or the lion’s den that wasn’t quite as deadly as intended, just to name a few. (Why we don’t hear about such feats now is more symptomatic of modern spiritual complacency and less that God is somehow inactive.)
— christina · 13 May 2011, 13:19 · #
This entry is definitely echoing what I have been thinking ever since I first heard of the revelries that were taking place at the news of Bin Ladin’s death. Well, ok – it got started shortly after I first heard the news, but then got accentuated and delved into as I read fellow Christians posting celebratory comments with dismay. Granted, other Orthodox Christians making similar sentiments known were also helpful.
I came across this blog and found it fitting in with my thinking on this, and in my sharing it I hope it also finds some relevancy with others.
— Ioanna · 15 May 2011, 20:32 · #