A Need For Healing

What amazes me about the current state of our country is not the hatred. White Americans have hated Native Americans since the Vikings banged ashore. White Americans have hated black and brown Americans since they first found they couldn’t exist without them. White politicians have hated since they first found that hatred produces votes. Others just find hatred sexually arousing and a good substitute for performance.

No, what amazes me is deeper than that, much deeper. I know folks who normally appear as those whom the Galilean would call his “brothers and sisters in grace.” They are kind, generous, delightful to talk to, pleasant in all outward aspects and ready to help with the flash of an eye. They can even quote scriptures with ease, particularly the “letters” or the Old Testament. Unashamedly, they specialize in “thoughts and prayers.”

Then, they click on social media. The Galilean weeps.

They post the most hateful, vicious, hideously false, divisive messages that one can imagine. Stuff, much of which must emanate from the Russian Meme Factory, as hideous as one can imagine. Posts that aren’t intended to express a debatable idea, but only to guarantee their hatred bona fides, much of it directed at those whom the Galilean loved the most.

What is wrong here?

I don’t think they are bad people in general. Rather, I think it simply indicates that, somewhere, there is an abscess on their soul. Let us all hope (or pray if we choose) for a great healing. That would make the Galilean smile.

Torment

In the rural community in which I grew up, there was a man who suffered from what we would now classify as moderate retardation. An African-American man of indeterminate age, he was known by all as “Happy Bill.” As far as I know, he never harmed a living soul. He tended to roam the neighborhood and was a frequent visitor to my family’s grocery. His pleasant and non-threatening personality made him welcome on most any occasion.

He had a trait, this unfortunate man, that made him a frequent target of torment and frivolity. When jabbed in his ribs, he would yell out whatever thought was lurking in his mind at that second, or so folks thought. The thing I remember is that his outbursts involved neither anger nor retaliatory insult toward his tormentor. Neither did he ever lash out at another individual, the crowd assembled, or a definable group. To have done so, would certainly transformed the act of torment from fun to revenge, or a more dangerous and sinister situation.

I’ve often wondered what miraculous and internal defense mechanism directed his utterances to the ridiculous, and yes … even humorous, instead of the vindictive. It is unthinkable what dangers might emerge if a person were to answer any mental provocation with an unfettered and unfiltered response, with no regard for the possible consequences. I suppose the ability for restrained and analytical reaction to provocation, along with the gift of thoughtful discourse, represent two of the many blessings that evolution has provided humankind, as this most gentle of men demonstrated. Good for us.

"A soft answer turneth away wrath:

 but grievous words stir up anger."
 - Proverbs 15