There’s so little to say in the wake of tragedy, after the dead have been covered over and the wounded have been carted off.
What is there to do but to fall to our knees, bow our heads, and weep for the young Mormon boy wounded while serving his mission and the mother of twins slain by yet another woefully misguided suicide bomber?
The experts tell us that crying is a good thing. Tears have the power to heal us from the inside out, they say.
Is it possible that the suicide bombers have lost the ability to weep?
They bear no sign of grief, no flicker of regret in their eyes, no unsteady tremor of the hand. There’s not even a hint of hesitation in their gait as they walk to the corner market or to the nearest ticket gate and call out the name of a god they barely know but claim to serve. Then kill over and over and over again in Allah’s name.
And before the blood is mopped up, before the wounded are rolled into recovery rooms, before the next-of-kin have been notified, our nation’s politicians and talking heads have taken to the air waves to denounce, not the terrorists who are waging this unholy war, but instead their fellow countrymen.
They claim to have all the answers for all the ills that plague this world: These talking heads, these politicians who couldn’t fix a leaky faucet without calling a plumber.
I should like to shackle them all one-to-another, like a prison work crew, and offer them over to the terrorists.
Make a swap.
For all the lives of the innocent people not yet slain, here take these, instead.
Do what you will with them.
You might start by cutting out their tongues. Not many would blame you.
But you must swear by the god you say you serve that you will put an end to the violent attacks on innocent people, good mothers and Mormon missionaries.
In return, we will happily trade you our arrogant and xenophobic.
Karen Spears Zacharias is the author of Mother of Rain (Mercer University Press). Watch the stage adaptation at The Springer Opera House April 7-17th.