by Cindy Hasz
American Reporter Correspondent
San Diego, Calif.
March 31, 2002
A SONG OF JOY IN A WORLD OF SORROW
SAN DIEGO -- The day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is a really anti-climactic day. Known as Good Saturday to the Christian faithful, it is neither the dark drama of the crucifixion northe resplendent, boulder-busting glory of the Resurrection. It's a bona fide,certified, really bad day where defeat seems a foregone conclusion, even totrue believers.
For a ragtag band of Jews in the fulcrum of history that was Palestine between B.C. and A.D., their Passover lamb had been sacrificed andthey were in hiding. Two millenia later, Israel mourns the latest "Passover Massacre," this one in the town of Netanya. Many are in hiding again.
True disciples of jihad and suicide bombing the world over, from Bin Laden to Arafat, are also in hiding or besieged and otherwise holed up in their paranoid, delusional version of a martyr's upper room as Israel gears up to avenge its newest Passover lambs.
There is great dissension, even in our own country, on who the good and bad guys are, but there seems to be general consensus that we are at the square root of impasse festering into a wormhole of disaster. It doesn't even matter that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict itself could be the global suicide bomb that takes us all out. Distinctions of innocence and guilt will then be a mute point.
The original Passover brought deliverance for Israel, the end of hundreds of years of oppression and slavery in Egypt. The Old Testament story tells of the miracle of a Jewish leader who parted the Red Sea, saving his people and simultaneously wiping out the terrorists ofthat day. They have a long history of fighting suicidal idiots, these Jews.
America's Time magazine asks, "Can Israel Save Itself?" Newsweekasks, "Can the Catholic Church save itself?" (Yes, there's a correlation... human time bombs proliferate in every theology that fundamentalism has turned into a rancid contempt for and denial of human flesh.) Whilemany Palestinians have long ago given up any hope of salvation, militantIslamic warriors see themselves as sacraments of death created to cleansethe world of particularly Jewish and "Western" sins.
Who can deny, on this day of quiet between Passover and Easter, that the whole human race seems inexorably crazy and in need of deliverance, of a mighty, non-denominational, non-religious salvation experience?
Especially in need of salvation, as Christopher Hitchens says, are the three great monotheistic religions of the world: Christianity, Judaism and Islam. And Salmon Rushdie indicts the Hindus, too, in his native India, for the constant bloodletting in the name of many gods. Frankly, I think God is as sick of it as we all are, sick of being a convenient excuse for murder.
From the days of Cain and Abel, mankind has hated itself. That indeed is fruit of the original sin and "them apples" are not just Western. The evil that seems to spring eternal from human hatred is a virulent plague that smites our firstborn, our lives, our countries and our planet regardless of religious allegiances. Paradoxically, and shamefully, many times it seems to be caused by religious allegiances. Ah, the ecumenism of evil.
While I wait in this day, this life of the world between Passover and Easter, in the tomb of grief where the world is mutilated by perennial crucifixions, theistic and atheistic alike, I will do more than hope.
I will rage against the dying of the light. I will sing a thousand tongues of sorrow, tongues of mercy, tongues of fire, beseeching the winds for a new and lasting Pentecost to prevent another holocaust of any nation, race or religion.
I will sing the Song of Solomon, the song of any true prophet impaled like the thorn bird between the world that is and the world that is to come: that love is stronger than death. I will sing that love itself will one day conquer the hatred of the human which corrupts the graves of both Israeli and Palestinian, of Christian and Muslim and Jewish flesh alike.
I don't know that I will ever live to see that day, but if not I will die singing of this resurrection. The resurrection of that original, unbroken world we've all glimpsed in elusive dreams, our stubborn hearts and the eyes of our children. The light of the real, the true and the good.
Lord God of love, the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Ishmael, Jesus and Muhammad ... Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on this bloody Earth.
Cindy Hasz is a mother, nurse and writer living in San Diego. She can be reached at email@example.com.