Last night a friend said, "Things are getting really bad in Lebanon."
I have to confess, I haven't been thinking about it much. There was the CLC institute and trying to read as much as possible in these precious few weeks at the LOC and getting ready to go to Chicago.
But the news this weekend that 57 civilians were killed by Israeli air raids over a place called Qana is hard to ignore. And this story of survivors who've been hiding under the rubble, trying to keep their families safe for twenty days, is particularly breaking my heart this morning.
At a Bible study recently, the leader talked about a theologian - he couldn't remember who, but I think it's Capon - who talked about right-handed and left-handed power. Right-handed power is the power of the gun, the power that crushes enemies. Left-handed power is the power Jesus used, that of turning the other cheek, that of loving your enemies, that of praying for those who persecute you. In his book, The Astonished Heart, Capon says, "The power of God that saves the world was revealed in Jesus as left-handed power."
As the me who studies politics, I understand why we're letting Israel keep going with that right-handed power instead of calling for an immediate cease-fire. We believe that countries should be free to neutralize terrorists, to defend innocent civilians, and to maintain security. So, even though I disagree with it, I understand why President Bush didn't call for an immediate ceasefire three weeks ago. And why he still won't.
But the me who is a Christian is having a hard time understanding why we stand by when innocent people are being killed. Seventeen children. A ninety-five year old. Someone in a wheelchair. They will be called "collateral damage," which is the technical term. They all have names. Every single one of them had a name, and a family, and a place in this world.
Can you imagine what it would be like to be in their place? To be living your very normal, middle-class life and suddenly, with no warning, have bombs falling all around you? To live in a state of terror for two weeks before one of those bombs falls on you?
I don't know what it would mean to use left-handed power in this situation. I don't know what the Christian response to a military attack is. I don't know that it even matters, given that most residents in the region aren't Christians anyway. (There are Christians in Lebanon. About 1/3 of the population. Did you know that? Should it change our perception on the conflict either way?) I don't know how you turn the other cheek when there are bombs flying around you.
But I do know that every single person in Lebanon and in Israel is created in the image of the holy God. And I know that we are supposed to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. And I know that our neighbors are the people who are different from us, the ones who it would be easier to leave bleeding in a ditch rather than going out of our way to bandage them up, help them find safe shelter, and provide them with a place to heal.
Our Lebanese neighbors are hurting. They've been beaten up and left for dead on the side of the road. I wonder if we'll help them by asking our government to push for a cease-fire. I wonder if we'll do something inconvenient for the sake of love. I wonder if we can turn the other cheek, if we can recognize that both sides are right and both sides are wrong. I wonder if the power of love is stronger than the power of guns that bring death.
I wonder, what are we going to do?