He was a bit past middle age, a bit past overweight, with a disturbing knot on his right shoulder. He spoke quickly. Eyes darted. And he struggled to force a smile. It displayed more as a grimace.

“She left me. And, can you believe it, moved into the house down the road? I could accept the divorce, but just did not like being reminded every time I would drive down the street.”

The lady nodded politely. She was pushing beyond 40, blond and slim, showing evidence that once this was a very pretty lady. And as the conversation developed, I suspected the guy was in over his head.

“Yeah, my sister's husband left her. She said it was the best thing ever to happen to her.”

He stared for a moment, seeming not to comprehend. Then continued. “I dunno. Sold the house and got another job. We tried to work it out, and just couldn't. So I moved on. Just can't understand it...”

She plodded on with her retortive story: “He got laid off, or fired, I'm not sure. And wouldn't find another job. Finally got to working at Kroger for $6 per hour, and seemed perfectly happy. My sister told him- Look, just because you're not willing to work according to your earning potential, doesn't mean I'm not going to expect proper child support! He just grumbled. She said- Yeah, nothing has really changed. He's still laying around, grumbling, trying to control my life.”

The guy stared again, then continued his monologue. “So I moved to Rome. She didn't seem to want to make it easy for me to visit the kids. Finally we found a church about half-way, and we'd meet in the parking lot.”

He rubbed his shoulder and said something incomprehensible. I leaned a little closer. As much as I could understand, they talked a bit about the weather, traffic, and some more about his divorce. Then they got up to go to the salad bar. She doused her plate with romaine lettuce, feta cheese, croutons and bacon bits. His of course was piled high, with lots of tiny little tomatoes and a lava flow of bleu cheese dressing. They sat and began to eat, and with no blessing I noticed.

The guy had this habit of taking huge bites, and talking out of the side of his mouth as he chewed. Perhaps she did not notice. But it was obvious she kept direct eye contact to a minimum. She spoke of her pet, and apartment. By now it was obvious she was single, with no significant other. He talked of his job- sales, or accounting, I am not sure. It seemed nondescript, and certainly not a passion. Somehow he then returned the conversation to his true passion, his divorce. His ex was money-hungry, and just couldn't seem to let go and move on. Unlike himself.

He would just like to meet someone nice, someone with whom he could talk and have coffee. Someone unlike his ex. She nodded and said Yes, that would be nice. They both ordered specials from the menu. His plate was empty in a hurry. She asked for separate checks and he did not protest. And the tip? He left $2, I guess one for each.

As I watched them leave, I was pretty sure these guys would not become a poster-couple for e-harmony or match-dot-com. Across the table my wife scowled, “Are you going to eat your food now?”

With deep sadness, he goes about the systematic process of destroying another person.

With great hurt, she withdraws support and participation at the most critical time, allowing the project to implode.

She possesses a heightened sense of justice.  Most often she is deeply religious.  Yet the world and others are judged through the prism of self.  And it is a harsh judgment, with exacting vengeance.

Forgiveness and selflessness are feigned, but non-existing.

He hurts others.  Deeply.  It is a pattern of life, never acknowledged, and cleverly cloaked in righteousness and justice and lots of other Messianic terms.

He, and she, are cripplers.

They are in all walks of life.

Too many are in the church.

It is wonderful when you recognize you have a problem, and seek help.  That is what the church is for.  That is what God is for.

Many, however, do not recognize it.  They go through life perhaps a bit puzzled why they have few healthy social connections, wondering why they seem to be a magnet for the hurts and mistreatment from others, never truly realizing it is they who have the biggest problem, not others.  If this person is lucky (or, as we say in the church, “blessed”), he or she somewhere along the way will connect with a significant other who truly loves him.  Perhaps this partner is crystal clear about the deep imperfections, and works hard to move him toward better health.

Too many times, though, the loving partner becomes a facilitator and enabler, instead of helper.  He cannot bring himself to admit that the person, with whom he is most intimately connected, has a great flaw.  Instead he learns to make excuses.  And he soothes, comforts, and justifies when the inevitable backlash of hurt comes along.  Inevitably the emotional and social cripple will generate backlash and injury.  And the inflictor in his warped mind actually understands himself to be the victim.  And so he will go through life hurting others, deeply unhappy, and all along the one who could help him the most instead naively promotes the condition.

I see this played out in marriages.  Perhaps the wife is a manipulative and hurtful person, by pattern of behavior.  Or, maybe the husband has the repeated habit of handling perceived flaws of others in a totally inappropriate manner.  He attacks and injures.  I see these people.  I recognize the harm they inflict upon others.  And I wonder why their mates or parents or children allow it to continue?  Surely they know.  And if they do not know, it is an ignorance of choice.  Yet as a minister I tread upon dangerous ground if I dare to confront the perpetrator.  Most often he will not recognize what he has done.  Sometimes, I look into the eye of the facilitator, and realize that she knows.  She knows.  But too much has transpired, too many times the matter has played out, too much is at stake to be honest.  Instead, I am likely to become the object of wrath.  There sits the quiet, facilitating partner.  And when push comes to shove, he or she will play it safe.  Honesty and change come at great cost.  Better another excuse, another justification, another inflicted injury upon an expendable person.

Such crippled and dangerous people are all around.  They are a source of great misery in the workplace.  And they are in the church.  Since it actually requires great intelligence, competency, and creativity to continue to fool self in such a way, often these people are able to elevate selves into places of influence and power.  Then they become most dangerous.  They can inflict even greater harm upon others.  I do not think they are necessarily evil, at least in no greater proportion than the general population.  But they inflict great harm, and they do the work of evil. 

At this point in life I’ve come to fear these persons.  As I have written, they are quite accomplished, and connected with enablers.  When threatened, the crippler will show his fangs and bite deeply.  And then the enabler will finish driving in the nails.  I avoid the Crippler.  It involves a spiritual battle, and I am no match. 

I do not own a gun either as an instrument for self defense or recreation.  Why?  It is mainly because of fear.  A rough, tough, NRA member might look at this with disdain.  He would have a bumper sticker proclaiming,  “You'll take my guns when you pry them from my cold dead fingers!”  But I do not consider mine to be a sissified fear.  It is more an awesome respect of what a gun can do.  I’ve fired rifles and pistols.  I can blast away a coke can, and have proven fairly good with a target, but have yet to hit a moving critter.  And that is o.k., because I would then feel sorry for the killing.  It is not very realistic that I would eat a squirrel or rabbit, or go to the trouble of cleaning a deer.  Maybe I am a sissy?

Firing a gun is nothing like it appears in the movies.  The weapon is heavy and packs quite a punch.  If you wave it around like a toy or a joystick, you could very well blow a hole in your face.  And guns are made to blow holes in things, big and ugly holes. 

To own a gun as a weapon of self-defense is to come to a conclusion.  It is to be willing to kill another human being.  I think I could kill someone, for the right reason.  Many seem quite willing to kill for less than the right reasons.  If someone wants my television, or car, or deigns to disrespect my property, then do I have the right to take his life?  Perhaps according to the laws of the Old West, I might.  But I have to live with myself.  A human life is precious, even more so because I believe every person is stamped with the Image Of God.  Until life is clearly threatened, and there is no avoidance of the confrontation, then I think I have the moral responsibility to forego the use of deadly force. 

When you have a gun in your hand, and you feel almost paralyzing fear, you have before you some God-like possibilities.  Someone is breaking into your house.  Some punk is going to rob you.  A big guy issues to you a verbal threat.  Yet, you have in your hand the great Equalizer, a gun.  The threatening person may or may not be armed, and may or may not be intending to injure you.  I can understand- it is better safe than sorry.  So, when do you pull the trigger?  Lots of people are shot and killed because, in a moment of anxiety and fear, someone perceived them to be a threat.  He looks menacing, but in reality he could be on his way to work.  He might be a danger, or he could simply be a drunk.  And the problem is- when you kill someone- it is final.  Can you live with it?

There have been a few times in my life when I felt truly threatened.  It was dark, and I was alone, and I felt I was being watched and even stalked.  But nothing happened.  So I will never know if there existed a real threat, or simply my perception.  In those moments my heart seemed to beat out of my chest and hands wanted to tremble.  And, what if in my fear I “perceived” an imminent danger, and my hand was on the trigger of a gun? 

I am just not convinced that I have the right to kill someone, simply because I can.

I was checking out some of the t-shirts and bumper stickers available on www.cafepress.com. They offer thousands, and the option to create your own. I did a search of “annoy a liberal”. Among the results of interest, I pass along the following:

Then I searched “annoy a conservative”. Here are some offerings:

Isn’t it interesting our tendency to dilute the convictions/beliefs of another person into a phrase that can fit onto a bumper sticker or t-shirt? People just are not so simple. Well, maybe some are. Some are quite willing to parrot the beliefs of another, even to adamantly accept them as personal convictions without due examination. Perhaps on the surface they sound good. And those who advocate such beliefs comprise a social group that is personally appealing. So I guess it is easy to believe something, advocate it, and even judge others who do not conform, without personally giving worthy process and examination to the matter.

Why do you believe? It is a great question. I am convinced most of us are truly afraid to give an answer. Instead, we attack the questioner, because it is a mighty big relief to take the focus off one’s faulty reasoning and shallow convictions, and watch the other guy squirm. Or we get stubborn about it. “I believe, and that’s just it.” Teeth are clinched, eyes set, and mind hardened. Sometimes it is impossible to admit you are wrong. It would require too brutal a personal honesty, and too many apologies to others.

I am not saying that reason is the great determiner of right and wrong. And I am not saying that the smartest person is always right. But I am saying that anything worth believing is equally worth examining. The more important the belief, the more thorough should be the examination. God, for example.

I will focus upon political/social issues for a few posts. Next writing, I want to consider the “Right To Bear Arms”. It is connected to the Second Amendment of the U S Constitution.
Do you have the “right” to own a bazooka?
The “right” to gather a militia and build a fortress in Idaho?
Does this refer to a collective, and not individual, “right”? Then, would the government be justified to seize all personal weapons?

We will talk about it with the next post.