Jesus Wept

Directly across the street from the site of the Murrah Building Memorial Plaza in Oklahoma City stands a larger than life-sized statue of Jesus, his face in his hands, weeping. It is a touching sight, made even more poignant by the fact that Jesus stands facing away from the site, as if he cannot bear to look at it - at least, not yet.



I think of that when I hear the dispute raging over the plans to build a Islamic center two blocks away from the site of the World Trade Center in New York City. Both sites are tragic. They are hallowed sites, made so by the loss of life, sacrificed in the name of extremist ideologies. Whether the god be Allah or political fervor, these acts are somehow linked to religious belief and have left a bitterness that is likely to hang on for no one can say how long.



In Oklahoma the pain was easier to bear for it was commonly assumed the perpetrator was a lone maniac; he did not represent a religious group or nation. The Twin Towers tragedy will forever be linked to Islamic extremists compounding the bitterness. Never mind that true Islam teaches peace, the terrorists have indelibly stained the image of Islam itself. Now we must struggle with our repugnance over their acts as well as our far from clear picture of their religion. The struggle is compounded by people confusing the name of our new president with Islamic culture, and tarring him with a guilt he did not earn or deserve.



I am proud to be an American, proud to revere and enjoy our government and its laws which protect the religious freedom of all individuals. I am shaken when those freedoms are threatened, no matter what the reason. I am also deeply touched by the pain that lives on in the hearts and minds of people directly touched by the tragedy of 9/11. But I think we must be very careful not to confuse the insane acts of a handful of terrorists with the beliefs and culture of the Islamic people as a whole.



I can remember breaking a dish because it had “made in Germany” stamped on its back. We were children in grade school. We knew nothing of Germany or Japan, we only knew our countries were at war, and it was a show of patriotism to destroy a product that “belonged to the enemy.” Childish? Yes, but understandable. We heard our parents talk. We saw the posters on the walls. We lived under the strictures of rationing. We could name the boys who had left our community, some never to return. We saw and wept over, the gold stars that hung in the windows of our friends and neighbors.



Now a patriotism that must break a dish because it came from a certain foreign country strikes us as foolish. Perhaps the present controversy over building a cultural center meant to educate and inform people about the true meaning of Islam and to honor the believers in Allah who died in the 9/11 catastrophe will also one day disappear. Meanwhile, I still see that statue of Jesus in Oklahoma City, weeping, his face turned away from a sight too painful even for him to see. And I think, “He is facing the other way, but he’s nonetheless there. He has turned his back, but not out of anger or disgust. He is hiding his tears.” We too must weep - for the living and the dead. But God help us, let us not also shake our fist!