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Today, with the Iraq occupation fading from our daily news and political discourse, and when discussed mainly in detached, strategic or polical terms, I thought I would offer a poem about the violence, from someone who has never been in war. I wrote this in February 2003, anticipating the horror of what everyone then thought would be a long, gruesome siege and urban battle in Baghdad. Of course it has now turned out to be just such a horror there and in Fallujah, Mosul, Ramadi, even if it occurs in slow-motion and out of our sight. With the specter of United States troops remaining for an indefinite period, and who knows how much more brutal urban fighting and civilian "collateral damage" will occur, this poem suddenly has a new immediacy. Fair notice: it is a very sad and graphic (not violent) war poem, but we must grapple with the pain we are causing as a nation. Because our government has censored the reality of this war from us, we must rely on our own imaginations, centered in our loving hearts, to feel the pain we are causing. If we cannot face that pain, even in print, we can never generate the empathy needed to put an immediate stop to this and all future wars. The conclusion, consistent with all real theology, offers hope. (I changed the last work in the title from "siege" to "surge") LETTER FROM A FAMILY UNDER SURGE Only one of them died, Mr. Bush, the night our recovering little enclave My oldest daughter, barely Fourteen, I swear, Mr. Bush, she just died of grief And looking you right in the eyes The true heart of God And to learn You see, true divinity appears mad in world of pride and vengeance. Washing the feet of the man who ordered the killing of your entire family? Who would do such a thing? The answer most relevant to Twenty-First Century America: Jesus, but not, I am sad to say, the Jesus touted by our imperial, violent Christian right. The mother's final prayer for true love looks like weakness in the US American world where might and vengeance rule; looks like pure fiction from a Muslim, whom we are popularly taught understand only force and violence. This is precisely the problem. Until we can imagine a world in which hatred is met with love, until we are able to meet hatred with love, we will never live in peace and love ourselves. That's what I mean when I say that divinity and true love are highly radical, even dangerous today. I cannot claim to have the courage to live true to these teachings always, or even most of the time. I can only do my best. Each of us can only do our best, but we must at least make the attempt. For who else is there?
http://madnessofdivinity.blogspot.com Bruce is 46 year-old father of one, stepfather of three and grandfather of two, who left a lucrative law practice at a large national law firm to work, advocate and write for social justice and equality and find a way to incorporate a spiritual life into the material world. He now struggles along to make a decent living while holding true to his deepest principles in Portland Oregon.
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