My Thoughts on Osama's Death

Unless you've been living in a cave more remote and detached-from-media than a certain fortified residence in Abbottabad, you've heard the news:

Osama bin Laden is dead.

I hesitate to add my spilled words to the cacophony of voices expressing opinions about that momentous event.  With Twitter, Facebook (where I first heard the rumor late last night, which prompted me to stay up even later to listen online to President Obama's historic speech), blogs, newspapers, EVERY form of media, as well as people-to-people conversations (including the talk over my dinner table) being dominated by Osama's death, I wonder if there's any value in expressing my thoughts.  However, in years to come, I suppose I'll find it interesting to look back and read this...and maybe, my children will, too. So, I'll spill my thoughts...

My first reaction was a "Yes!  We got him!  Way to go, U.S. soldiers!"  The classic good guy v. bad guy story had come to an end, with the happy ending for which we'd all been waiting.  However, my jubilation was swiftly tempered by a growing sorrow.  Did it have to end this way?  Was there no chance for redemption?

Humanly speaking, even though I tend to look on the sunny side of life, I'm not even enough of an optimist to think that there was any way possible for Osama to change his whole outlook on life and on America, and become a peaceful man, showing regret for the lives he had ended and demonstrating the fruits of repentance.  My firm belief that "with God all things are possible" doesn't mean I'm not also a realist.

Consequently, I understand the justice of my government's actions; as "God's servants, agents of wrath," they did exactly what they needed to do.  In addition, I am extraordinarily proud of and grateful for the Navy SEALs and all of those involved in this enormous task.  I can't type "Navy SEALs" without having the faces of friends of ours--some who previously served as SEALs and some who still are--flash through my mind, and I remember countless drives past one of their training areas which was close to our home in San Diego.  On a personal level, I'm so impressed by how the mission to capture or kill bin Laden was carried out.  Well done, unnamed warriors!

With all of that in mind, however, I find myself challenged by the words in Proverbs 24:17, "Do not gloat when your enemy falls..." (and, to give credit where credit is due, that verse was posted by Adam C. on Facebook in relation to Osama's death).  Osama, no matter what else he did, was still a man, still God's creation, still someone who was loved and adored by many, many people.  And now, his life is over, and he's gone to face the consequences of the choices he made here on earth.  How dreadful!  How sad that there is such hatred among us, such willingness on Osama's part to orchestrate the deaths of thousands of people and to inspire such dark zeal among his loyal followers.  Part of me says, "Can't we all just get along?"  And another part of me answers with a resounding, "Apparently not!"

This morning, as I sat in my comfortable rocking chair in my comfortable living room in my comfortable home in my comfortable corner of God's green earth, I tried to explain to Josiah and David what had happened and how significant it was.  David listened briefly, then lost interest:  no surprise there.  But Josiah wanted to hear more about the raid, and his reaction mirrored my first one:  a hearty "hooray!" for our guys.  As we talked further, I tried to help him understand the other side of the coin, the Proverbs 24:17 perspective.  How do you balance those opposing views, and how do you communicate that to an eight-year-old?

Two examples came to my mind, and I shared these with Josiah.  First, when one of his brothers gets in trouble--say, for example, when Tobin is throwing a fit and has to go to his room--is it right and proper for Jeff and I to be exerting authority and disciplining Tobin in that way?  Absolutely.  However, is it OK for the other boys to stand around and laugh at Tobin and say in sneering voices, "Ha ha, you got in trouble!"  Not at all.

Second, when we were victims of an armed robbery here in our home, were we excited when we got the phone call early on Christmas morning of 2006 that the second robber had finally been arrested (the first was arrested the day of the incident)?  You betcha!  Was it right and proper for the investigators and police to do their job to apprehend and bring to justice those two men?  Oh, yes.  But when we saw those men in court and walked past their families, would it have been acceptable for us to crow and swagger and rub it in and relish the fact that "our" side had won?  No way.  Instead, our hearts went out to those men and those families; and even now, when I drive past the house of one of the men, I sometimes think of them, sitting out their years in prison, and I pray that God will reach down and penetrate, not just the walls of the prison, but the walls of their hearts and bring them to repentance.

I can't pray that for Osama.  His chance is over.  But what I can do is strive to keep my footing on the balance beam:

being grateful for my country and its military, 

but not gloating over our enemy's demise,

rejoicing to see justice done, 

while being sensitive to the pain inflicted by that justice,

praying for healing for the families of victims of 9/11, 

but most of all, longing for heaven where truly, fully, finally,

"love and faithfulness meet together,

righteousness and peace kiss each other."

In the words of the old hymn, "what a day of rejoicing that will be!"