"Now is the day of joy - let us not revenge; now is the day of good will, let us not be mean-spirited. In this day of peace let us not be conquered by anger..." St. Isaac of Nineveh
A seventh-century Nestorian monk from Beth Abhe on the Persian Gulf, Isaac was bishop of Nineveh for only five months before withdrawing to the mountains to live in solitude. He reportedly lost his sight from studying the Scriptures voraciously.
I like this little factiod about the Nestorian monk. He stepped away from a bishop's position in Nineveh to get lost in the mountains; folks probably said he was crazy. That's got the makings of a good John Denver song. And in those mountains, he studied Scripture "voraciously" (great word) - he gorges himself of the words of God to the extent that his physical faculties of sight just peter out. The optic nerves said, "Enough. We can take no more. If you want to see from now on, you'll have to use something else." I wonder if Isaac lost his sight before he wrote those words or after; I'm going to bet on after. I bet that way because it seems that in order to see, really see, we have to lose our original eyes. We have to look with something different than those little white balls stuck in the indentions in our faces. We have to use our hearts.
I believe we can still use those eyeballs, however, in seeing with our hearts. Many have "seen" the hanging of Saddam via the cell phone camera's pictures that made their way to the internet. News agencies have reported the debacle and the White House is apparently reeling again over something that looked like a necessary thing, but now looks like what is was...revenge. I wanted that bastard to die for all those crimes to humanity, all those children lying in the street, gassed by this man's inherent evil...but when I saw him dangling from that rope, something, maybe my real eyes, said, "That's wrong. I've been conquered by anger, I've been mean-spirited, I've been revengeful."
Should Saddam have paid for those crimes in some way, been held accountable for the injustice? Absolutely. But to have paid with his literal life? I just can't see it. I haven't lost my sight from studying the Scriptures voraciously, but I have read 'em. And those Scriptures, those holy words, those utterances from the voice box of God speak of mercy always overcoming justice. That's not very American, I know, but America sometimes doesn't listen or see or ask or seek or knock. I don't know how Saddam should have been punished; I'm not sure what mercy would have looked like. But if Isaac were still alive, still bloodied from falling down mountain passes due to his blindness, still walking around muttering God's words which had become his words due to his voracious appetite - I'm going to bet that Isaac would have cried, "Mercy...'Today the Bountiful impoverished Himself for our sake; so, rich one, invite the poor to your table. Today we received a gift for which we did not ask; so let us give alms to those who implore us and beg. This present day cast open the heavenly door to our prayers; let us open our doors to those who ask our forgiveness.'"
John: But, St. Isaac, I didn't see Saddam ask for forgiveness.
St. Isaac: Really? What did you look with? Those round things in your head? Oh, my son, your blindness is worse than mine.
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