Je Suis Charlie
Je suis Charlie . . . again. As incomprehensible as it may seem, another terrorist attack befell in the midst of the Friday night life of Paris. Sifting through the news, especially among all the diaphanous, tri-colored posts of Facebook, we sometimes find ourselves tempted to judge through the lenses of politics rather than to feel through the eyes of compassion. We inevitably think, what should we in America do about this imminent threat that seems likely to come our way as well? What does it even mean to say, “Je suis Charlie”?
We do not have to reach too far back to remember the attack on the Charlie Hebdo Magazine last January for their sacrilegious depictions of Muhammad, the prophet of Islam. In solidarity, people cried, Je suis Charlie (I am Charlie) to stand with journalists’ fundamental ethics of freedom of expression and the press. We felt compassion for journalists targeted at work and shot in cold blood, rightly so, and we wanted to send a message that we all stand for the values of freedom; hence, the “I am Charlie” sentiment. For a while, we were all journalists. We were all Parisians maybe. Many may not know that the magazine had also depicted quite offensive images of Jesus in the past. Few may not have chosen to proclaim solidarity in light of those pictures; however, most still declared that in spite of the parodies, we want to protect people’s freedom of speech whether we like the expression or not.
Shortly after the attacks on the World Trade Center in Manhattan, the television aired vigils from around the world where countries flew the American flag or lit up buildings in red, white and blue. The sentiments came across loud and clear—we felt connected by others’ compassion. People were standing with us, lending strength with empathy. In fact, a well-known newspaper in France declared that, “Today, we are all Americans.” Before we move away from this compassion and empathy into judgement and prognosis, let’s sit here a minute and ponder the loss. Parents are without their sons or daughters, husbands are without their wives, friends are without their peers, and children are without their moms or dads after the sudden events of last Friday night. There are even a few American exchange students who were studying in Paris who will not be returning home now. Amid airstrikes and pending acts of retaliation, people are grieving. We all know grief in one aspect or another. It takes time to flesh out; it never really disappears from our thoughts. We can take a moment to feel this tragedy. We can take many moments to pray for the families torn apart by violence and the post-traumatic stress that will follow. We can plead with God, Our Father, to miraculously bring peace that passes understanding, comfort that humans just can’t attribute to anything other than The Holy Spirit of the One True God. Whether we agree with the action plans brewing or not, whether we agree with the politics of France, we can say that “We are all Parisians,” at least for today. Je suis Charlie.
Photos by en.wikipedia.org & commons.wikimedia.org
