The violence of our borders

The job may be finished, but for the families of over 1,000 people missing from September 11, closure is still distant.

New York authorities announced Wednesday that they will halt their DNA identification of remains from September 11, leaving almost half of the remains unidentified.

Nearly three and a half years later have passed since September 11, 2001, and we as a nation and world are still looking for closure from the wounds of that day. The United States has since occupied two other nations, and U.S. foreign relations have ranged from close affinity with the rest of the world to hatred.

Just this week, President Bush traveled Europe to attempt to improve U.S. relations with the world in the aftermath of these years of violence. While I affirm this week's improvement of U.S. relations with other nations, I wish to look at an international relation of a far different scale.

In the summer of 2003, less than two years after September 11 and in the midst of the Afghan and Iraqi wars, Mennonites gathered in Zimbabwe for the Mennonite World Conference. The conference was a memorable experience, but like any conference, the best memories are not from any official conference setting.

In the bar on the campus of the Bulawayo Polytechnic College, a few friends and I entered into a conversation with a man we seemingly shared nothing in common with. He was a Muslim from Zimbabwe, and we were American Christians. Our worlds were at war with each other, but we were able to do what our leaders seem unable to accomplish: talk to each other.

Though I have since forgotten the man's name, I can never forget the strong unity we shared from our separate corners of the world. He stressed that the Muslim world was not the fundamentalists threatening the world with terror. Likewise, my friends and I stressed that we did not support the violent actions of our nation.

Our conversation stretched on for an hour. We discussed our homes, our politics, and our faith. We were very different people who led very different lives, but we were still people searching for the same goals of truth and happiness.

In the almost three and a half years since September 11, violence has compounded on itself as the world tries to work out its differences. It is easy to be perplexed or fearful when meeting with people that do not act as we act or pray as we pray. This is where the message of peace is even more important. Our peace message extends beyond complaints about military spending and weapons.

Our peace message is not some philosophical humanist musing. We are a peace church because we act in Christ's peace just as we receive Christ's peace. These past three and a half years have been years of fear. We fear for our lives when we are reminded daily in the media that people want to kill us.

Christ tells us that we do not have to fear the different people around us. We do not need to build borders and defense systems when we have Christ's protection. Christ does not care whether the other person has a different ethnicity, belief system, or sexual orientation. He merely asks that we view the other person for who he or she is: a person with the same fears and aspirations we possess.

We cannot expect the world to disband its militaries while the world's people fear one another, but we can work to dispel that fear. Guarding ourselves and our communities from those who are different from us only perpetuates the violence. Living Christ's message of peace is as simple as sitting down for a conversation with another person. Christ welcomes us with an open heart. We must do the same.