I feel uncomfortable celebrating the death of anyone. I don’t care who he is or what he did. I have come to a point in my life where such vengeance gives me neither pleasure nor closure. When I heard of the death of Osama Bin Laden, and when the celebratory facebook statuses started popping up, I was quick to express my discomfort.
Perhaps too quick.
Am I happy about this man’s death? Do I support the “justice” that was done? Do I think that deadly force should be used in such a situation? No, no, and no. As a pacifist, I am against killing. I find it silly that we are told over and over growing up that two wrongs don’t make a right. We expect children to get it. Why don’t we?
Furthermore, as a Christian, I believe that justice had already been dealt for Bin Laden’s sin. In fact, we celebrated “his” death a couple of weeks ago on Black Friday. Christ had already taken his place, paid his punishment- by God’s standards he could have been an innocent man. I don’t expect our country to operate on such standards, but as a Christian, I have to remember that I deserved the cross as much as he did. I have to view Bin Laden through a lens of Christ-like grace and love. As a friend of mine so wisely stated, “Christ would have washed Osama Bin Laden’s feet.”
These are my beliefs. I stand by them. And I did not hesitate to share them with the world. But, I should have slowed down for a minute and applied some Cubism to my ideas. I should have looked at the issue from a different perspective, and I may have realized that I’ve “been there.”
I am hesitant to compare my hurts to the the loss of 3,000 lives. My pain seems to pale in comparison to the pain that the loved ones of those victims must have gone through. But I can still make connections. As a sexual abuse victim, I was hurt deeply. My oppressor had committed a crime that was considered among the worst according to society. My oppressor was “deserving” of death according to Old Testament Biblical standards. And for years, I wanted Justice.
I wanted him dead. Dreamed of it. It brought me sickening comfort to imagine situations of horrible demise for him. And I thought that if he would just die, I would feel better. I would feel vengeance. I would feel justified. I would have closure. But I couldn’t “get my hands on him,” so I took my hatred out in other ways. I became bitter toward other men who had not wronged me, I cut myself, I punched walls, I filled my thoughts with violence and hate. It took me more than 10 years to overcome this mindset (I have only been out of its shadow for 2 or 3 years), so I should not be surprised that some Americans are still dealing with their pain in the same way I was.
But I learned something from my experience- hatred does not heal. Had my abuser died, I would not have suddenly been cured. In fact, I probably would have delved even deeper into the bitterness that I had surrounded myself with. My thirst for vengeance had only set me back. I’ve heard a quote that said something along the lines of, “wanting revenge is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Spot on, I’d say. Spot on.
Osama Bin Laden is dead. But the hurt is still alive for many people. May I remember what it’s like to go through such deep hurt. May I remember how difficult it was to dig out all those roots of bitterness. And may I patiently and lovingly try to help others people heal. I have healed to the point where I honestly feel that I could look the man who molested me in the eye and say, “I forgive you.” I hope someday my fellow Americans can think about Bin Laden and say the same thing, but healing doesn’t happen overnight. It is a long process that slowly unfolds as we learn to forgive.
Ah, forgiveness. It’s not a lack of justice, it’s not a pardoning of evil. It is healing. For the oppressed AND the oppressor. And it is beautiful, no?
