ISIS and the Middle East
By Reverend Tom Capo
11/16/14
“They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up swords against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore; but they shall all sit under their own vines and fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid.” This quote from the Jewish Bible prophet Micah is a statement of hope for our world. I wish I could say that this is happening right now, but I’d have to be blind to the many wars and atrocities that are occurring in so many places. This image of the Tao with peace and justice represents the complexity that we face. I believe all of us would prefer that the human race would sit together peacefully under vines and trees with no-one prodding us, through words or actions, to be afraid, but that, most emphatically, is not the world we live in. How do we balance justice with peace?
What has been on my heart for some time has been the group ISIS, also known as ISL or the Islamic State or Isil or Daesh. This splinter group from the Al-Queda network has taken over vast swaths of Iraq and Syria. They are well armed, extremely well-funded, and have lots of people from around the world volunteering to fight for them. They have used mass killings, beheadings, intimidation, and fear to control their own soldiers as well as the people in the cities that they have taken over. As far as I know, they seem to have no interest in peaceful dialogue as a means to their ends. Unitarian minister, Transcendentalist, orator, and poet, Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: “Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it can only be attained through understanding.” So how do we reach an understanding with people who have no interest in any understanding beyond, “join us or die?” How do we reconcile Emerson’s lofty philosophy with the fact of a violent fundamentalist group whose rampage must be halted?
I am increasingly disturbed and, let’s be honest, afraid of what they are doing and what they might do. I am having some flashbacks to feelings that I had during 9-11 when the twin towers were destroyed and the country was afraid—having experienced a catastrophic foreign terrorist attack on United States soil for the first time in modern history. I remember my irrational fear while interacting with a Middle-eastern stranger in a grocery store a few days after the attack. Yet, after a time, I was able to find an inner peace. I chose not to live in fear; I chose not to give power over my behavior to a group that wanted me to be afraid; and I chose not to treat my Middle-eastern and Islamic brothers and sisters differently because of what some extremists chose to do.
What’s helping me cope this time is an experience I had about 6 years ago, while serving in Cedar Rapids. Tensions were high between the Jewish and the Islamic communities due to what was going on in the Middle East. People here in the United States had family and friends who had been wounded or were in imminent danger due to the fighting in Israel. The Rabbi at the time defended the right of the people of Israel to protect themselves against the bombings of innocents, and one of the Imams compared the Israelis’ persecution of the Palestinians along the West Bank to the Holocaust. They took this dialogue to Facebook, and predictably, the tension between the two groups escalated. A number of faith leaders in Cedar Rapids, of which I was one, decided to hold a Peace service on neutral ground, the Unitarian Universalist church that I was serving. Both the Imam and the Rabbi were invited and attended. They consciously put aside their reactive and inflammatory words. The Rabbi said a beautiful, elegant, and loving prayer for the Palestinian children along the West Bank. Then the Iman stood up, thanking the Rabbi for his words while he shook his hand, and then prayed for peace for all the people who live in Israel. Some of you may be sitting there thinking, “so what? That didn’t solve the conflict in the Middle East.” And you’re right, it didn’t. But it did bring peace to our own multi-national community. In a sense, we thought globally and acted locally, and the result was peace between the Jewish and Islamic communities in Cedar Rapids.
The Rabbi prayed for the children, just as we did today in our prayer. But again I wonder what is the balance between protection and love—how do we know when we go too far in one direction, thinking of protection, and believing that we are at war primarily because we are safeguarding the world for our children or our children’s children? Mother Teresa wrote: “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” The Rabbi and the Imam remembered that we belong to one another, but there are so many in our world who forget.