I Want To Hate Them

I want to hate them. You know, the terrorists. I just remember that 9/11 day. Many parents came to the school, my mom included. They picked us all back home, to “safety”. It was the Dominican Republic! Why were we conquered by fear in that moment? Because in that day, the course of human history changed. The era of Terror began.

When we say the word “terrorist”, we give it a clear definition in our heads: Middle Eastern, bearded, crazy-eyed dude with a turban and a big hate against the United States of America, with no respect for life, no regard of honor, involved in a religious war that desires to eradicate the unfaithful to what they call Islam.

But can we box terrorism in just those things?

Modern western world has been the target of hundreds of attacks since 9/11, 2001. New York, London, Moscow, Paris, Berlin, Orlando, Manchester, Kabul, Aleppo, Bagdad, Boston, Damascus…The list of cities is unending. Right now, nobody is safe.

Nobody is safe.

Right now, people ask themselves: Why? Why are we being victims in a war we never intended to be? Why are our sons and daughters being the target of a hate we never stirred? Why do they hate us so much? Why are they killing people? What’s the reason? Some American “patriots” would say envy of the U.S. of A. Others would say fear. Others say that the attacks are just retaliation of the “World Police” international politic of the USA in the last 60 years.  However, do those reasons justify the thousands of Christians slaughtered day after day in the Middle Eastern? Does it justify the thousands of non-jihadi Muslims killed every day? Does it justify the deaths of hundreds of Europeans in France, Belgium and England in the last 5 years?  For me, the answer is no. It is nonsense. It is ridiculous. It is cowardice. There is no reason to do such a thing to another human being.

I want to f***ing hate them with all my heart.

But I can’t.

I can’t because love needs to overcomes my chest, even in the wake of disaster. It is not a feeling, is a decision. I can’t because I know that they are still human beings too (although people think the opposite). I can’t because I realize that our fight is not against flesh and blood, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places (Eph. 6:12, NLT). They are not the real enemy.

When I realize that, I can’t help to feel helpless concerning my own pain for the losses, anxiety for the fear or the desire for vengeance. I don’t know where to put those feelings of despair and impotence.

Thank God, the Bible tells us about one man, who suffered, like no other: Jesus.

He was a refugee. He and his parents fled to Egypt when Herod called the slaughter of the babies in Judea.

He was persecuted for his beliefs. The Sanhedrin wanted to kill him, because of His teachings; which were completely different from the Law the Pharisees taught in that time.

He was a foreigner in the land. We know that His real country is the celestial one. He came just for a moment.

And even in the wake of treason, pain, humiliation and ultimately death: He uttered these words: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34, NLT).

To forgive in the midst of bitterness? It is possible. To hope in the middle of despair? It is possible. To live again when death is lurking around a whole generation? It is possible. To love when hate seems to be winning the battle? It is possible. Let’s go to the Teacher, and learn from His example. Let’s become beacons and ambassadors of love, hope, restoration and life. Let’s try to recover from the ashes, and build new foundations of love for the next generations to come.

For me, this is hard, for I want to hate them. But I know I can’t.