Let There Be Peace on Earth

(Despite the disjointed place this entry takes after such a joyful previous post, I feel the need to reflect and share my thoughts after watching a video about suicide bombing for my Anthropology class.)

I'm wiping away tears as I write this, surprised at the profundity of my experience, and deeply saddened by the tragic reality of the constant conflict in this war-torn region of the world, yet in spite of the seemingly hopeless situation, I feel deeply moved and inspired to do what I can to act as an agent of peace in a world rent by violence.

Recently, I have been learning about the history of the Middle East in my Anthropology class, and I am ashamed to discover that I nearly quite literally knew nothing about the subject until a few weeks ago. It has been an overwhelming amount of information, and long overdue, but better late than never. Still, it shocks and frustrates me to realize how little the rest of the American public knows about the long and complicated history of violence in the Middle East and the motivations for the different factions.

Honestly, even eight years after the pivotal September 11, I still knew little more than 1) Palestinians and Israelis hate each other 2) Osama bin Laden is the head of a terrorist organization taking refuge in Afghanistan and 3) the United States has become embroiled in the never-ending conflicts in an attempt to establish democracy and peace. It was easy to hear reports of yet another car or suicide bombing on the evening news and just pass it out of mind as something to be expected "over there" without ever learning what could drive a human being to commit such an act against his fellow human beings.

On top of learning the histories of the countries in the Middle East, I have just recently also decided to learn Arabic, even if I can't take it as a class next semester, and only tonight I was practicing reading, writing, and pronouncing some of the letters before I watched this documentary.

All of this being said, I may not be sure at the moment, but I feel as if perhaps God might have revealed another glimpse of my vocation to me. I can't think of many other reasons why my curiosity for Islam and this fascinating-- yet terrifyingly difficult-- culture has been aroused in me, but after seeing children watching footage of their father's "martyrdom" and seeing mothers weeping over the sudden and inexplicable death of their sons, after seeing blood- and dust-covered people fleeing and being carried from the flaming ruins of a car bombing in distinctly September 11-esque images and the dismembered remains of a woman suicide bomber amidst the wreckage, after seeing people throwing rocks and flares over walls that divide a city illuminated by explosions at night, I feel that

Something must be done.

And not just "something must be done," but "I must do something, even in what small ways I can, to bring the love of God not just to these people, but to everyone I encounter." Still, I also can't help but feel an increasing tug within myself when I recognize the gifts for language and communication and the ability to think critically and passively apart from emotions along with a natural curiosity that I have been blessed with. And I wonder How can I use these gifts to serve God?

For a while now, I have held the idea-- almost a vague goal-- of obtaining a job where I could serve as a peacemaker, an intermediary where I could use my talents to bridge the gaps between peoples in order to bring them closer as brothers and sisters in respect and peace. I find myself thinking more and more of the Prayer of St. Francis and it is fast becoming my mantra.

I have already embraced the French culture through learning that language, and I feel that it has prepared me to continue to do so, possibly until I can love the entire world and see it more through the eyes of God. In any case, I feel that I at least have a good stepping stone to foray ahead into the exotic and unknown culture of the Middle East. And whether it's my mission to minister to "the eldest daughter of the Church" or my brothers and sisters in Judaism and Islam I cannot say right now, but I can only pray that God graces me with the ability to radiate his love and joy to whomever I am called to serve.

It is a grim world that I find myself entering, and it would be too easy to succumb to the overwhelming darkness that stands before us. But lest I seem too hopeful and naive in my young age, I take comfort in the phrase that appears in the holy scriptures the most often: "Be not afraid!"

I will end with two quotes by a man I wish we still had among us; yet we do not have need for another John Paul II. He faithfully served in his time in this life, and it is with deepest admiration and inspiration that I look to him as my time is at hand:

"It is the duty of all believers, to whichever religion they belong, to proclaim that we can never be happy pitted one against the other, the future of humanity will never be able to be secured by terrorism and by the logic of war."

"Dear young people...Do not wait until you are older in order to set out on the path of holiness! Holiness is always youthful, just as eternal as the youthfulness of God. You are young, and the Pope is old, 82 or 83 years of life is not the same as 22 or 23. But the Pope still fully identifies with your hopes and aspirations. Although I have lived through much darkness, under harsh totalitarian regimes, I have seen enough evidence to be unshakably convinced that no difficulty, no fear is so great that it can completely suffocate the hope that springs eternal in the hearts of the young. You are our hope; the young are our hope. Do not let that hope die! Stake your lives on it! We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures; we are the sum of the Father's love for us and our real capacity to become the image of his Son."