As a native New Yorker, I have for almost the past 30 years driven over the world famous Brooklyn Bridge, looking at the skyline of lower Manhattan before turning onto the FDR Drive. This trip, begun in earlier years out of necessity, has now become a ritual every time I have the opportunity to visit.

I still remember the first time I took this route, looking up and seeing the World Trade Center. As a dyed in the wool urbanite, this very location—on the bridge looking up—has given me great peace across the years. It was the intersection of God-given knowledge being applied through the old—the bridge—and the fairly new skyscraper constructed when I was a child. As I write this, I remember the Twin Towers with the two floors of shopping, the subway, a PATH station taking commuters to New Jersey, and the constant press of multicolored humanity that moved below, around, through, and in these buildings.

And then September 11, 2001 changed my favorite view, the New York skyline, and the collective psyche of New Yorkers and all Americans. I called the Bronx to check on childhood friends, and accidentally dialed the number of a firehouse in my old neighborhood. The fireman on the other end of the line told me that the smell of Ground Zero had made its way to the firehouse, about 20 miles away. Last Sunday, about 10:30 p.m. our time, celebration of the death of Osama bin Laden rang across this country. Since then, there have been many who have said that to celebrate the death of a man, albeit a wicked one, goes against the principles of people of faith. Others have rightly said that the terrorist threat still remains—and look for its increase as a result of this action.

To me, the celebration for many isn’t blood thirst, but psychological closure. Until last Sunday, many Americans were like the victims of violent crimes, who, not receiving counseling, were left to battle their pain and suffering alone. Since 9/11, America fought, and still fights, in two wars, with the potential of a third. Bloodshed of our troops becomes more common. A country unaccustomed to defeat and abuse until Sunday was incomplete. Much more importantly, those who directly suffered as a result of these attacks—forgotten by the country—needed closure.

As people of faith, we know that life introduces us to suffering caused by the wicked. We must remind others and ourselves that wickedness did not cease on the earth due to the demise of bin Laden, just as it continued after the death of Adolph Hitler. As we live our faith, it is incumbent upon us to be a living epistle of how to live through our pain, of how to be wounded healers, and how to live as the righteous so that evil will be made to retreat. Light repels darkness, and whether it be the misguided burners of Korans, the birthers who major in the nonexistent, racists with a divisive agenda, or those who live in Christian religion rather than a relationship with Jesus Christ, we who know better must continue to be bright lights of the Lord’s love.

As people of faith, we ought to have gratitude that further atrocities against persons will not be carried out through Osama bin Laden.  Also, we should share solidarity with those who are loved ones of people murdered in attacks directed by bin Laden.  These days may well be extremely difficult for them.  Finally, as people of faith—especially those of us who have recently focused on the death and resurrection of Jesus—we must avoid at all costs sentiments of revenge and resentment.  Jesus, as he faced a violent death, has given a witness free of any resentment and revenge.  Even though others may have shown no reverence for the dignity of human life, their disregard for life’s dignity does not give us permission to reciprocate in kind.

How should people of faith respond to Osama bin Laden’s death?

A CNN poll discovered that 61 percent of the respondents thought Osama bin Laden was in hell.  Why CNN believed this was a useful piece of information to gather is beyond my imagination.  Politics is befuddled enough without adding a murky layer of metaphysics.  What matters is the hell created on earth, and how we respond to the inhumanity of those who feel justified in using terror as a weapon for an ideological end, or simply for maintaining power over others.

It is a somber thing to take the life of another even in the name of justice.  This is because life is precious and it makes a difference how one defends life.  There is always the temptation to become like the enemy.  Hate and vengeance do not operate within a moral imperative.  Triumphal dancing in the streets may be a spontaneous expression of relief on the news of bin Laden’s death yet humiliating our enemy does not serve justice.

In the defense of humanity bin Laden was hunted.  He helped to plan and inspire the death of thousands, including Muslims.  He hijacked not only the planes that caused the tragedy of 9/11/2001 but also the Islamic faith to justify his terrorism.  The demise of any tyrant gives hope for the pursuit of peace.  The best response to bin Laden’s death is a renewed effort to build and sustain interfaith tolerance and cooperation.

Even as we defend the human spirit against every power that would diminish it let us not forget that the line dividing good and evil runs through every heart.  And humility is always the better part of valor.

How should people of faith respond to Osama bin Laden’s death?

As a Christian clergyman I simply cannot rejoice at anyone’s death who I believe lacks knowledge of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. While Osama Bin Laden has his hands stained with blood and perished the way he chose to live, his is, nevertheless, a tragic life. He chose to kill and destroy rather than heal and live peaceful. It is unfortunate that he did not know and therefore forfeited a more excellent way to make whatever point he was trying to make in life.

How should people of faith respond to Osama bin Laden’s death?

It is human to feel joy at bin Laden’s death. He embodied the evil that left so much devastation and grief in our country. But that joy is limited. His death was just one of thousands he caused, planned or inspired, and the grief he left behind overwhelms any pleasure at his death.

I remember that, for many of us, the hanging of Adolf Eichman, architect of the Holocaust, ultimately brought little comfort much less joy. It could not compare with the horrors he caused. Eichman and bin Laden celebrated death; our best response is to celebrate life.

How should people of faith respond to Osama bin Laden’s death?

I can clearly recall where I was as the devastating news of September 11 unfolded and the anguish it brought to so many families. If the death of Osama bin Laden brings them comfort then I am grateful for the easing of their pain. I must admit to not feeling the unbridled euphoria that I am witnessing on T.V. and in the news, perhaps because I feel now is a time to be reflective, not only about this one individual who wreaked such havoc but about the ideology that fueled his hatred. My fear is that the ideology that spawned acts of terrorism did not die with bin Laden and that the work ahead for all of us to combat ignorance, bigotry and hatred. Now is not the time for jockeying for credit, for conspiracy theories, but for deep introspection and gratitude for what binds us as human beings.