'Take My Eyes with You!'

We stepped into the church and immediately began to see, feel and even smell the extent of the destruction.  

Remnants of Death, Destruction, Defeat

Our tour leaders advised us to wear surgical gloves and masks because of the remaining fumes and damage.  

A house of worship, once a spiritual home to a city, now stands as the scene of a war crime.  

The Immaculate Conception Cathedral, the main Syriac Catholic church in the Middle East, bears the scars of ISIS's hatred.  

Soot blackened the columns and coated the arched ceiling. Burned pews sat forlorn to the side, no longer fit for use. 

ISIS particularly aimed its wrath against the cross. They tore out, threw down or sledgehammered into rubble this symbol of the Christian faith.  

We walked outside into the courtyard and saw the carnage continue. 

Islamic State terrorists snatched thousands of books from the church, piled them up in the courtyard and burned them. Only a pile of white ash blown by the wind remained as evidence.  

The scene reminded me of the Nazi book burnings in 1933.  Both fanatical groups tried to erase free thought and religion.  

Spent bullet casings littered the courtyard floor.  

At the far end of the area, ISIS fighters used the colonnade for target practice, training killers in a space consecrated for Christian worship.  

Sister Diana of the Humanitarian Nineveh Relief Organization (HNRO) gave us the tour of the church and city.  

She lamented, "They are against every Christian symbol. Everything actually, wherever they saw a cross, they took it down. They tried to do as much as they could in their power to say, you know, you Christians stop living here. This is not your land. It makes me speechless."  
  
Welcome to Qaraqosh 2016

This story began on the night of August 6, 2014.  

Church bells rang, phone calls were answered and the word went from house to house.  

The message was the same: "The Islamic State is coming. Flee for your life!"  

In the dead of night, out of this northern Iraqi town of nearly 60,000 Christians, most left except for a few of the elderly and invalid.  

The midnight flight of Qaraqosh was just one chapter in the exodus of thousands of Christians from Mosul, Bartella and other Christian villages in the summer of 2014.  

Since then – more than two years and counting – they have either languished in refugee camps or housing provided by humanitarian organizations. Some left the region to become part of a burgeoning Christian diaspora from the Middle East.    
 
The Painful Trek Back 

This October, the Kurdish military known as the Peshmerga liberated Qaraqosh as part of the offensive to retake Mosul, Iraq's second-largest city.  

Now some of the former residents are making the painful trek back to their homes, neighborhoods, and churches.  For those traumatized by the past two plus years, they must now bear the emotional strain of seeing what ISIS did.  

From the church to the corner store to the cemetery, the destruction of the Islamic State – or the coalition air strikes targeting ISIS – is overwhelming.  
 
The Christian church in northern Iraq stands at a crossroads between returning and rebuilding or becoming those blown by the winds of war to the four corners of the earth.  

The question remains, what is the way forward for these followers of Jesus and other persecuted minorities of the Nineveh plain? Will the Christians of northern Iraq be able to absorb this latest body blow to their hearts?  

Congressman Jeff Fortenbery, R-NE, introducted one public policy solution.
 
A Lifeline

Fortenberry built House Resolution 152 on the foundation of the Congressional declaration of genocide against Christians and other minorities in March 2016. 

The resolution says in part "… the indigenous communities of Iraq's Nineveh plain region – Assyrian, Chaldean, Syriac Christians, Yazidis, and others – have a right to security…."

It would support the Iraqi creation of a safe zone, allow for autonomy and commit the international community to help maintain the security.  

The resolution envisions a three-level security system with a local Christian militia, the Iraqi army or Kurdish military and an international rapid response unit.    
 
As Robert Nicholson of the Philos Project states, the proposal for a new province in the plains of Nineveh is rooted in Iraq, not the U.S. 

"On Jan. 21, 2014, the Iraqi cabinet ministers decided in principle to turn the Nineveh Plain into a province,"  Nicholson said, adding, "No solution for post-ISIS can be imposed from outside." 

The Nineveh Plain Province must be approved by the Iraqi people and administered by the minorities themselves. 

But with President-elect Trump proposing a safe zone in Syria, it seems likely the incoming U.S. administration might support another one inside northern Iraq.  
 
A Grim Alternative

Kellsey Beal, a volunteer for HNRO, told CBN News,  "It's really scary to think that if something really big doesn't happen that ISIS could be successful in trying to destroy this community. It isn't without hope, but people need to help."  

One Christian official in Erbil told me he hopes some of that help comes from the Church, "Don't forget them. Don't give up on them. They're still here and there's still hope, but there's only hope if the rest of the world's Christians continue to show solidarity with them."  

What better time than Christmas to show this solidarity?  
 
For those still in northern Iraq or others scattered around the world, the attachment to their homes runs deep.  

Before my journey to Qaraqosh, I met a couple in Jerusalem at the Notre Dame Center. I explained I would be leaving for northern Iraq in just days.  

Years ago, this couple lived in a town very close to where I would be visiting. Now they lived in Michigan as part of this worldwide Christian diaspora.  

You could feel the wife's heartache as we talked about her homeland. With tears streaming down her face, she said, "Take my eyes with you."