I read that this month (which isn’t quite over yet) apparently is the deadliest in terms of U.S. military deaths in Iraq (on May 2, 2003–almost exactly a year ago, Bush declared “major combat operations in Iraq have ended). The article I read tacks on this last sentence: “Up to 1,200 Iraqis also have been killed this month.”

This highlights one of my main problems with the division of the human family into nation-states. Does God tally casualties by nationality? (No, John, he does it be religion…) When I read this article, I think less in terms of numbers and nationalities, and I grieve for those who are still alive: perhaps there is a new childless mother in the dusty streets of Fallujah, cradling a small broken body (and perhaps an older sibling looks on with anger). Halfway around the world, another mother greets a flag-draped black coffin containing what remains of her only son. Which sacrifice is greater? Which grief is greater?

Nationalism is the grown-up version of high school spirit. It is no less childish. From the grand perspective, American lives are no more valuable than Iraqi lives. Humans who were raised in the Middle East are no more or less precious in God’s eyes than those humans who live between the arbitrarily drawn lines that mark the borders of what we call the United States. You wouldn’t know this by reading the news.

I hope that we get overthis narrow-minded approach to the valuation of human life someday.