Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84Plough Quarterly • Spring 2016 19 clerical attire. Muslims are not allowed to hear the prayers of the Christians, read their writ- ings, or enter their churches. Christians cannot bear arms and must submit unconditionally to the directives of the Islamic State. They must bow their heads, endure every injustice without complaint, and pay a special poll tax, the jizya, if they are to live. It churns the stomach to read this contract: it blatantly divides God’s crea- tures into first-class and second-class humans, and leaves no doubt that there are also humans of a third class whose lives are worth even less. It is a calm, but utterly depressed and help- less gaze we see in Father Jacques’s face on the photo as he covers his mouth with his hand. He had reckoned with his own martyrdom. But to see his parish taken hostage – the children he christened, the lovers he married, the elderly to whom he promised the final sacramental unction – must be enough to make him lose his mind, to make even a man so thoughtful, so inwardly strong, and so God-loving as Father Jacques lose his mind. After all, it was on his account that his fellow hostages had stayed in Qaryatain rather than fleeing Syria like so many other Christians. Father Jacques no doubt believes that he has incurred guilt, but I know this much: God will judge him differently. Is there hope? Yes, there is hope. There is always hope. I had already written this speech when I received the news that Father Jacques Mourad is free. Citizens of the town of Qaryatain helped to liberate him from jail, then disguised him and brought him out of ISIS territory with the help of Bedouins. He has now returned to his brothers and sisters in the Mar Musa community. Obviously, a number of people were involved in the rescue opera- tion, all of them Muslim; each one of them risked their life for a Christian priest. Love has The Mar Elian monastery before, during, and after its destruction by ISIS forces in August 2015. These stills were taken from an ISIS video. prevailed over the borders of religions, ethnici- ties, and culture. And yet, as magnificent as this news is – indeed, as wondrous as it is in the very sense of the word – our worry must nevertheless outweigh our joy, especially our worry for Father Jacques himself. Indeed, the lives of the two hundred other Christians in Qaryatain are