What drives a human being to hate his brother so much that he can kill him? What possesses a ruthless dictator to disregard human life for the sake of self preservation? We are no more than the relationships that bind us to this world – can they not see that? Relationship is the only reason for which we are here. Without it, life is meaningless.
But what can I do for those people across the world whose very lives are being stripped from them simply because they were in the way of one man’s thirst for power? What can I do for my brothers and sisters who are being murdered because they were not born into the right ethnic group, caste, or religion? What can I do for my sisters who are being killed because they are not only women, but because they refuse to diminish this fact?
I have no training. I have no skills. I am young and still quite a bit naive I am sure, and I am only one person. And so I humbly surrender myself to the fact that the world is not mine to save. It is not mine to bind its wounds or heal its lands or purify its waters to make it liveable again. It is God’s, and though I am its steward, I am not its Saviour.
The world begins to crumble around me and I wonder: where do I fit into this puzzled mess of life as it now is? I drive to church this morning in a peaceful quite, but the other side of the world is telling a different story. Countries at war, Asian communities in crisis, people’s lives are being lost and yet I am sitting here, still unsure of how I fit into all of this chaos.
This summer I am going to Bolivia to volunteer at a home for young orphaned girls. I will go and look upon their faces and attempt to remind them of the infinite worth that their Creator has given them, the mark that He has imprinted on their hearts. And yet the peace and conflict studies students inside of me tells me that though my heart is geared towards compassion and helping others, I was really created for something much bigger than that.
I am a child of war. I was born into it, and I have continued to be a soldier fighting in this war since I first felt the sting of injustice in my heart. In this universal fight between good and evil I am a warrior, but I will not take up a sword. Instead my weapon is my mind, my heart, and my voice. And so, I submit myself in prayer, and I pray that God will bring justice and that He will bring it swiftly. I pray that I will not contribute to or instigate any more of the hatred that consumes our world. And I pray that I will be prepared for what I know is inevitable, and that I will bear good fruits so that others may prepare themselves as well.
What makes a man hate his brother? Fear, selfishness, pride, indifference? Perhaps all of these things.
What can make a man love his brother? That is the question, for which the answer we should be seeking.
