I remember 9/11...I was getting ready for school, and heading out to the bus stop. As I was opening the door, my dad had just turned on the TV, and at the sight of emergency news, he said, “Oh ----!” I didn’t know what happened, but I knew it was bad. When I arrived at school, I learned about the World Trade Center, and it was the first time I heard of Al Qaeda. I heard about the Pentagon. I learned of Flight 98 and the heroic sacrifice those passengers made. In subsequent days, words of Muslim extremists, terrorism and Osama bin Laden became frequent. I remember the religion of Islam no longer being mentioned as a religion of peace. I also remember that the United States started banding together. We started praying again. On the news, I also remember hearing word that violent acts were being committed as a reaction to the loss of 3,000 lives. Shops owned by American Muslims were vandalized. President George W. Bush reminded the people that we are not to fight our own. The terrorists were our enemy, and that is who we would fight. I was warned that my classmates may fight in this war. There was fear. There was hurt. There was hope. There was unity. I also remember a thought that came along. It became more prevalent to my heart, however, I wasn’t hearing anyone else utter the same conviction (until a couple years later). Would it be...could it be...is it okay to ask God to pray for bin Laden’s salvation? In a time of war, was it odd to pray that the enemy could find mercy long enough to come to know Jesus? I knew that justice needed to be made. I knew life-long imprisonment, in the least; death at most would be required. But...could God hold off long enough to see our enemies become our brothers? Even if only on a spiritual aspect. But maybe I was just being naïve. After all, I was only an 11-year-old girl.
I remember May 2, 2011… Well, the news came a day after, for us, Americans. Osama bin Laden was found in Pakistan and the Navy Seal charged into his home, killing him and shooting one of his wives in the leg. President Obama was announcing the victory we had wanted since September 11, 2001. The man who supported the attack on America ten years prior was dead. On Facebook, the newsfeed was filled with praises for the dead terrorist. My heart felt a mixture of emotions. On one hand, I knew there was a relief; a sense of justice was achieved. However, my heart also felt heavy. But why? As an American, I should be happy.
Right?
I asked God why I felt this heaviness. His reply: “I lost a son.” In that moment, I remembered my prayer when I was a child. I had wanted Osama bin Laden to meet Jesus on this side of death. But he didn’t. Now Osama bin Laden was burning in hell. And that is for eternity. How could I relish in his death when it meant that he would never get another chance to know God as a heavenly Father? I could not.
Two blasts blew at the Kabul airport in Afghanistan on August 26, 2021...Thirteen US soldiers were killed, up to 90 other Afghan citizens were killed, and 120 others injured as there was a plan in place to evacuate American citizens and Afghan allies after the Taliban took over the governing forces in the country. We had been fighting in a war for 20 years. Even two weeks later, the news has ongoing updates on how there are still American citizens stranded in Afghanistan. There is fear. There is hurt. There is not much hope or unity discussed.
In all that has happened in America, and that continues to unfold nationally and internationally, I am hesitant to jump on the “hate the enemy” bandwagon. I’m reminded of my 11-year-old self, and how I was praying for salvation, rather than revenge. When President Biden addressed the nation, he stated one phrase that was repeated across the newscasters: “We will not forgive. We will hunt you down. We will make you pay.” Politics aside (TV is full of opinions on the events of the world; this post is meant to mention something not being discussed publicly), I cannot agree with my president on the notion that I won’t forgive.
I am not going to apologize. But I am not going to allow hate to stir in my heart based on what happened in Afghanistan. Does what happened hurt? Of course. Should something be done. I wouldn’t doubt it. My uncle and I had a conversation last week about this. He believes the death of innocents is close to God’s heart and that there is such a thing as godly killing. In this context, it is okay to respond and bring forth justice to stop evil. Perhaps he is correct. Killing may be required as a form of self-defense. I know that in the Bible and in contemporary times, judgment has come upon those who have done evil.
There is the physical perspective. But there is also the eternal perspective. As an American, I am leery to relish in the destruction of men (and women) who are acting on terrorist means to obtain their end. I do not want to even desire for the demise of the Taliban, ISIS-K, Al Qaeda, or any other Muslim terrorist organization. Even if I have to physically defend myself, I do not want to resort to hatred.
Because as a Christian, I cannot be mindful of the physical realm alone. There is an eternal realm that we must be aware of. There is an enemy greater than the ones we see in planes. And there is a far more sobering reality than dying on a battlefield.
We are trying to fight something with artillery that can only be fought with ideology, furthermore, spiritually. Let’s face it. Even if you kill 100 Muslim extremists, 1,000 may still rise up. Because they believe in the theology of jihad. Of a holy war. They won’t be deterred from their beliefs, as many Christians are not deterred despite persecution.
To beat something spiritually, you must have spiritual weapons. And the prime weapon is prayer.
I feel sad for our nation, but I also feel sorry for these jihadists. They are ensued in a war to bring about a righteousness that they themselves cannot maintain (based on Letters from Osama bin Laden, a book I had to read for my terrorism class, this fight is over Israel (Muslims believe that Ishmael was the promised son of Abraham), oil (which the Western world loved to be involved in), and the sin tolerated in Western societies (which, maybe we Christians should be careful not to call sins vices or tolerate things unbiblical)). According to Muslim law and tradition, they have to pray certain times of day, in a certain language (not every Muslim speaks Arabic), have certain cleansing rituals, and obligations to attend to in life. Even then! When they still adhere to all the requirements Allah dictated according to the Quran, Muslims are at the mercy of their god’s choice.
But Isaiah tells the hard truth that all of us need to come to terms with. Every ‘righteous’ act we attempt to do is as filthy rags (see Isaiah 64:6). The only way we can be cleaned of our nastiness and become righteous is through the sacrifice of Jesus. He died while we were still sinners (Romans 5:5), took our sin upon Himself that we may take up the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). I don’t care what religious background you have. None of us can make it to God with our own efforts. That is why we need Jesus. And until we give Him our hearts, we will continue to “earn” our goodness, and attempt to purge the world of any evil and bring a counterfeit justice in our own strength. It is futile.
So back to 9/11’s memory. Back to the Muslim extremists that we are still guarded within our negotiations. We may have to fight. We may have to defend ourselves. Nevertheless, I choose to forgive. I choose to not allow any terrorists to gain my hate. And I choose to pray. Because at the end of it all, I would much rather see brothers than enemies. I want to see those whom I may not know their face or name be able to have a relationship with the One who has known their name and face before time itself.
Am I so naïve?
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