Requiescat in pace, Father Jacques Hamel

Martyred at the church of St. Étienne,

Named for the first martyr.

Before Pure Will he bows so reverently,

His captive mind conformed to prison sheikh

Electric monitor around his wrist

Can’t leash the lust of teenage liberté.

Straps faux explosives, enters martyr’s church.

Allahu Akbar! he shouts in sanctuary

Then forces Father to his well-trained knees

And Introibo ad altare dei

Is choked by chants condemning Nasrani.

As navel-gazing terrorists tape the scene

Small blips that beep across surveillance screens

Are all that police of state can strain to see.

He draws a thin red line across priest’s throat

Who swore to judge that Muslims love mercy.

“Impossible I didn’t produce a devil”

His mother pleads “he liked to watch TV.”

Enunciate égalité and claim

Fraternité—each death equals the same.

In haste to mute the speech of demagogues

Who demonize and promise walls will save

We cannot see the blood that spilled today,

Can’t taste the bitter sanguine poured this way.

If In persona Christi could he be

We could then grace with gravity his grave

We could then hear the Father’s final words—

Va-t’en, Satan, Va-t’en, Satan he prayed.

—Joshua Hren