Not Sad About Muhammad's Execution

The Pastor’s Page
I had a horrible spiritual struggle this week.
John Allen Muhammad, one of the so-called “DC Snipers,” was executed on Tuesday, and I found, to my horror, that I was not sad and I was not sorry.
I am opposed to the death penalty. I do not think it deters anyone from crime, nor do I believe it brings “closure” to the families of victims. Murdering one person, even if it is done legally, does not assuage the grief of another.
I also think that it is horribly criminal for a legal system to kill another human being. Murder is murder…which is why normally, I am sad, even to the point of being sickened, when someone is executed.
But this time I was not sad and I was not sorry. I would not have voted for Muhammad to be executed, but I was not sorry he had been.
I tried to explain my feelings to myself. I was angry at Muhammad, not only for indiscriminately killing 13 people over three weeks, but also for pulling in Lee Malvaux to help him, and also for thinking that killing people like he did would make it easier for him to kill his wife, and thus, get custody of his children.
The gall!
I did think about the fact that he leaves behind those very children who are probably very sad. They are sad that their father did what he did, and, even if he had not been the father they needed, that he has been killed. After all, he was their father.
And I did think of my normal response to the fact that people do heinous things: that they must be mentally ill and were never treated. In my mind, I just do not want to believe that people can do things like kill lots of people and not be sick. Normally, I argue that these people have probably been mentally ill since childhood and were never diagnosed, never treated.
I still believe that, and I think something was wrong with Muhammad. I think that in addition to maybe having been sick from the beginning, that illness was probably exacerbated by the time he spent in military combat.
But still, I was not sorry.
I heard one of the former police chiefs of Washington, D.C. say that what Muhammad did was calculating and planned, which it was. That being the case, he deserved to die, he said.
I found myself thinking that sick people can be manipulative and calculating. They can know the difference between right and wrong and not have the capacity to make right choices. I found myself arguing, internally, with this chief, saying he was being too hard. Nobody deserves to be murdered.
Then I stopped myself. How hypocritical. Here I was, not sorry and not sad that Muhammad was gone. I had no box to stand on, no legitimate perch from which to sing my song of self-righteous indignation.
I feel so bad about not being sad or sorry that Muhammad is gone that I have had to resort to deep prayer, asking God for forgiveness. It is up to God whether or not he wants to forgive me for this one. Theology has it that he will…
But God’s forgiveness notwithstanding, this week of wrestling with my feelings has humbled me, and has shown me a page of my soul that I had not before come across.
And no matter how hard I try, I still cannot say I am sorry or sad that Muhammad is gone.