Hostage Homecoming

What a homecoming it is! One after the other we have seen hostages held in Lebanon set free. Tom Sutherland and Terry Waite, Joe Cicippio and Alann Steen, and the last American captive, Terry Anderson. We wish the same for two Germans, Thomas Kempner and Heinrich Streubig.

These are days we have prayed for and anxiously awaited. What a joy to see families reunited, banners waving, crowds cheering, television cameras rolling. The former hostages remember the grim shadows of loneliness, lost years, times of illness, dark cells, and days of beatings. The shadows are there, but they are in the background. Now is a time to reconnect, to take a fresh look at what the experience teaches, to pause and recoup one's resources and then to make a new beginning.

It is a kind of baptism, passing through death to life. That new life has brighter colors and a more determined purpose for them, and even for the rest of us who have prayed for them and felt with their families and loved ones. It is a time for unreserved gratitude to God and rededication of our lives to seek God's purposes for ourselves and our world. Humanity is not forgotten. Divine presence remembers, renews, restores hope.

Soon we can relax. Hostage taking will become a bad memory of the past and we can put it to rest. Or is it really that easy?

Perhaps we are beginning to learn that opposing others is not enough. We must actively contribute to peace, reconciliation, and resolution of conflict.

One thing we dare not forget is that frustration leads to extremism and violence. Young Lebanese Shiite Muslims who saw their jobs dissolve in a shattered economy were desperate to survive. When their loved ones were killed or injured by Israeli or Phalangist forces, they took up the gun. When towns and villages were crushed by the advancing Israeli army, they were incensed.

When they knew that certain acts of aggression could not happen without U.S. weapons and tacit political support, they vowed to strike back. Initially, extremists kidnapped American hostages to put pressure on the United States and Kuwait to release revolutionary comrades from a Kuwaiti prison. But their ultimate objective was to create an "ideal" Islamic social and political order, modeled on the Iranian revolution, free from foreign domination, one they hoped would be more just in serving the needs of people.

One may seriously question their utopian dream and condemn their resort to violence, but we must still recognize the source of their anger. That is what several of the former hostages have indicated in one way or another after they were free. To be deprived, alone, devalued, made to suffer, and separated from families is wrong and inexcusable. We and our families know that. But the experience has led many of us to be more sensitive to others who live in uncertainty and oppression, to advocate more sympathetic insight into Middle Eastern issues and their human dimension.

A few days ago I hugged Tom Sutherland warmly. To celebrate with the Sutherland family his freedom and theirs was a joyous and memorable experience. It brought to mind that night I bid Tom and three other hostages a tearful farewell and wondered if I would see them again. Later I felt that same jab of desperation when I met the Sutherlands and other hostage family members. But hope and prayer and love never died. The families supported each other and were knit together by invisible bonds.

Later, as hostages were released one by one, each time there was gladness but genuine concern for those who remained captive. The human dimension was paramount.

Perhaps we can all begin to recognize the human dimension of the world's troubles more clearly because we have seen tragedy, suffering, and hope at close range. That is what faith is about.

Benjamin M. Weir was professor of mission and evangelization at San Francisco Theological Seminary when this article appeared. He was held hostage in Lebanon for 14 months from 1984 to 1985.