Is being “passionately ambivalent” an oxymoron? I hope not, because I would implore us to feel precisely that over Osama bin Laden’s death. My appeal is not so much to the sense of logic as to a gutty passion deep within the soul.
Ambivalent about what? Not over the death of a man who personified inhuman bloodlust, any more than I would be over the death of a Hitler or Stalin. But, yes, ambivalent over rejoicing too raucously and brazenly at the fall of a mortal enemy.
Part of me does want to wrap up in the Stars and Stripes, honk the horn of my (American-built) Honda, and mindlessly hoot, “U-S-A! U-S-A!” After all, should there not be some urge, less than prurient, over rejoicing at the downfall of one’s foes? You may count me in as one who would revel at ground zero, the White House fence, or even my local city street.
But, then you would have to count me out just as assuredly. Maturity, particularly spiritual maturity would, I hope, kick in, admonishing that the downfall of one’s enemy, even when it is deserved, should be an occasion for thoughtful circumspection.
Maturity should give birth to the sobering consideration that the blood of even the most evil man on our hands dare not desensitize us to the intrinsic presence of God in every human being. War is bad. Somewhere, a mother weeps. Somewhere a babe is orphaned. Killing to spare more souls from being killed may be a necessity, but let us never forget that it is a necessary evil. It dare not become the occasion for wanton merrymaking.
Before someone starts dancing around with the Bible all wrapped up in the flag, let me thump my own Bible and remind him/her of the magnificent pronouncement in Proverbs 24, “Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when he stumbles, do not let your heart rejoice, or the Lord will see and disapprove and turn his wrath away from him.” That’s pretty direct and unambiguous.
With Passover recently concluded, Jews — who have arguably been among the most vilified of people — have had their own such annual reminder at their Seder. Drops of wine are symbolically poured from the “cup of salvation,” signifying that salvation cannot be brought to full fruition so long as blood — even the blood of one’s enemy — is spilled in its pursuit. And even the ministering angels are upbraided for undue rejoicing, according to rabbinic Passover lore. As the angels sang their hallelujahs and hosannas while the Egyptian charioteers were overpowered by the Red Sea, God himself stifled their jubilation and bellowed angrily, “The work of my hands is drowning in the sea. How dare you sing me songs of praise?” Accordingly, we chant only half the otherwise appropriate Psalms during the latter days of the festival. Celebrate we do. Rejoice we do. But with neither a full cup nor a full mouth.
Just perhaps this is the cue for how to respond to the death of bin Laden or the other tyrants whose venom engulfs the world. His respectful burial at sea may have been such for a number of pragmatic geopolitical considerations. But, I would like to believe that it is also a sign that someone’s moral compass was pointing in the right direction. Let us hope that it bespeaks the collective conscience of America in these trouble-fraught times.
I’m raring to burst forth with “I’m proud to be an American!” with all the bluster that Lee Greenwood can muster. But, then let’s cool our jets and consider with good conscience what we might lose of our own souls by gloating too loudly when our enemy stumbles. Solomon was, indeed, the wisest of all men.
Rabbi Marc Howard Wilson lives in Greenville, S.C.
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