Hidden From Your Eyes

This is a picture of a pew in St. George’s Coptic Church in Tanta, Egypt.

I do not want to look at it. I cannot stop looking at it.

I’d rather it was hidden from our eyes.

There is blood on this pew because a Daesh terrorist detonated a bomb in this sanctuary during worship, killing 27 people and wounding 78 more. (A few hours later another Daesh terrorist detonated another bomb at St. Mark’s Cathedral in Alexandria, Egypt, killing 17 more people and wounding another 48.)

It was Palm Sunday.

It was the day on which the Bible says Jesus said these words: “As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.’”

I wish I could stop looking at this picture. There is a smear on the back of the pew, apparently made by someone’s fingers in the drips of blood running down. Had those fingers been moments earlier waving a palm branch?

Hosanna, indeed.

We waved palm branches on Sunday, too. Young and old alike sang familiar songs from pews not that much different from the ones in this picture. As we did, our kids paraded around those pews a few times, holding their branches over their heads, smiling at the grown-ups smiling back at them, caught up in the joyful energy of the moment.

And then, you know, we went home and ate lunch.

I suppose I’ll never really understand what motivates violence like this, how such hatred and fear of the other takes root in the human heart, corrupting us, eroding us, minimizing us.

A sensible explanation is hidden from my eyes. Hatred warps the human soul. Violence only ever causes more violence. Fear distorts truth, casting instead a shadow of grotesque and horrifying false reality.

It’s the Palm Sunday juxtaposition that won’t let me go this time. Save us! From halfway around the world, a picture of a bloody church pew. A phrase from Jesus Christ Superstar that says “To conquer death, you only have to die.” A so-called “triumphant” entry, deeply misunderstood then as well as today. A cheering crowd of people who know not what they do. Waving palms, breaking bread, driving nails.

What has changed?

We’re just stuck here. Stuck between Palm Sunday and the cross. Cheers and lament. In between “Hosanna” and “Crucify.” The next big thing is already old news. That which is in plain sight is simultaneously hidden from our eyes. Spiritual déjà vu.

If I didn’t know better, I would say that it feels like we need a resurrection.

Ignorance on Display

The bumper sticker says, “Everything I need to know about Islam I learned on 9/11.”

There is a picture of the enflamed World Trade Center towers to the right of the text.

Think of the layers of horrible decision-making that bumper sticker had to go through to appear on the back of that white SUV in Springfield, Missouri.

Someone had to think of the idea. A graphic designer had to put it together. A printer had to produce it. A marketer had to stock it in a store or on a website. A citizen had to see it, like it, purchase it, stick it to his or her car, and drive around town with it in full view of anyone who happens to look.

The bumper sticker says essentially, “I am ignorant. I am choosing to remain ignorant. I am, in fact, proud to be ignorant. I want everyone who drives behind me to know that I am ignorant and choosing to remain so.”

Ignorant – adjective

1. lacking in knowledge or training; unlearned.

2. lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact.

3. uninformed; unaware.

I really cannot process how I am reacting emotionally to seeing this bumper sticker this morning. I am angry. I am stunned. I am terrified. I am hoping it’s a joke. I am afraid it isn’t.

I am praying to God that this attitude represents a tiny, tiny minority opinion. Please God tell me that it’s the smallest possible fraction of people who think this way. Maybe even just this one guy. That would make it easier, if it was just this one guy.

I know, each person in this nation is entitled to their own opinion. We are free to think what we want to think about Islam as a religion and about Muslims as individual people practicing that religion. No one should attack another person for an opinion they hold.

Unless … Yes, there is an “unless” here. It may not be a legal “unless,” but it is most definitely a moral one. You can think what you want, unless it does harm to someone. If your attitude toward another person does them harm, or creates the potential to do them harm, then it needs to be challenged. And let’s not even entertain the “how can a thought do someone harm” question; it is naïve, deceptive, and misses the point entirely.

“Everything I need to know about Islam I learned on 9/11.”

My heart breaks, my stomach turns, my jaw clenches. I cannot fathom why anyone ever thought such an idea should see the light of day. I don’t know if I’m more upset about the idea itself or about its public display. I even found myself wondering about this person’s friends and family, and why nobody said anything to the driver, like, "Um, hey man. That bumper sticker is horrible and it makes you look like a moron, so you know, you should probably not put it on your car."

Someone please tell me this kind of thinking does not represent more than a handful of America’s most ignorant citizens. Please tell me that. I can’t imagine living in a community in which this sentiment represents more than .05% of the population. No wait, that’s too high. I’m still holding out hope that it’s just the one guy.

Because surely nobody else thinks like that … right?

I mean … right?

Freedom, Humor, and Violence: The Charlie Hebdo Mixture

Until now, I haven’t written anything about the Charlie Hebdo attack. Nor did I address it specifically in Sunday’s sermon. (Though I did say, “If it is not loving, it doesn’t come from God,” so that pretty much covers it, I suppose.)

I haven’t really said anything yet because, frankly, I’m having a hard time processing it. For many people, it is simple. Freedom of expression was attacked, and those attackers are evil because, beyond the senseless killing of 17 people, they were attacking one of the core principles of a free democratic society.

To be clear, I abhor violence. Nothing I write here should indicate otherwise. The murderers/terrorists who committed the Charlie Hebdo killings were in the wrong and there should be clear consequences. Violence never resolves conflict, and I will never condone a harmful act.

And at the same time, also on my mind are the limits that society places on freedom of expression. Simply put, you cannot just say anything you want at any time to any person. And as a person of faith myself, I believe one ought not ridicule, demean, or belittle another’s belief system. I certainly wouldn’t want anyone to do so to my own.

But on the other hand, I have no trouble laughing at some of the more absurd satirical presentations of Christianity. I love Betty Bowers, for example. So snarky! And Lark News is always good for a laugh (Headline: “Man Tired of Being Used in Sermon Illustrations”). I usually get a kick out of Jesus when he appears on South Park, too, although you can’t really watch that with your kids, if you know what I’m sayin.

So back and forth and back again; this whole thing is really complex for me.

The Vatican has officially denounced the attack while at the same time asking media outlets to treat religions with respect. And that would mean ALL religions. Pope Francis is quoted saying, “There are so many people who speak badly about religions or other religions, who make fun of them, who make a game out of the religions of others. They are provocateurs.”

Okay, but in no way shape or form does that mean they deserve to die. The staff of Charlie Hebdo was murdered in cold blood. They did not “have it coming to them.” It was shocking, appalling, an act of evil and hatred. And the Pope also said that it is an “aberration” to kill in the name of God and that religion can never be used to justify violence.

Now, a lot of religious satire seems to point at the way religious principles have been altered by practitioners of said religion. In that sense, the humor can be prophetic. I absolutely love the South Park scene where Cartman forms a “Christian” rock band and replaces the words “baby” and “darling” in pop songs with the word “Jesus” in order to make them “Christian,” for example.

Stuff like that illuminates truth, and if we can manage to laugh at it without taking offense, it can be quite helpful in our spiritual growth.

Comedians can be prophetic, too. People like Louis CK and Ricky Gervais and Nick Offerman sometimes say things about religion that might sound pretty harsh. But those things resonate because they are grounded in truth. I often end up laughing and wincing at the same time.

Of course also in the mix here: I had never heard of Charlie Hebdo before last week, so I was curious. Looking at their stuff now, it just really isn’t all that funny to me. It is crude, defiant, bold, all-inclusive, yes. But I guess I’m not really in the right context to find it amusing. And lacking the humor, the bite of the satire isn’t quite as illuminating.

So you see, all of that is tumbling around in my head, which has made it impossible to form a clear and coherent response. Freedom of expression. Humor. Violence. Prophetic words. Humility. Religious diversity. Truth.

So here’s where I am:

- You can’t just say whatever you want and expect no consequences to follow, especially if it is demeaning or insulting or harmful.

- To be able to laugh at yourself and your own absurdity is a gift and sign of maturity.

- Nobody should ever be killed for expressing an idea, no matter how crude and offensive it may be.

I guess what I’m saying is, we need to somehow figure out how to have all three of these ideas held together, always.