24 March 2012

Who is Guilty?

A few days ago, a pastor whom I respect, shared on Facebook an op-ed piece about the Sgt. Bales tragedy from David Brooks entitled "When the Good Do Bad". The op-ed was published in the NY Times.

He prefaced his sharing of the article with this: "The doctrine of depravity and original sin, so often despised and marginalized these days, surfaces again as we ask why "good people do bad things"".
My response (below) was not an actual response the Brooks article, but more to the concept of depravity as a theological construct to explain why the world is (in the minds of some) spinning out of control. 

Not to give Sgt. Bales an excuse for what he might have done (he hasn't been found guilty yet), I can't help but think of the depravity he probably witnessed in the execution of his "duties", which were, of course, to neutralize the "enemy" by any means necessary. One of the purposes of basic training is to re-orient the mindset of the recruit, so that they will be able to pull the trigger if, and, when necessary. We take young men and women and teach them how to kill. Of course, because it's done in wartime, it's an acceptable form of killing.
 Of course, the counter argument is that of the hundreds of thousands of men and women in uniform, only a handful commit such heinous crimes. That's true. However, the number of PTSD cases the VA is monitoring (over 200,000 according to a recent NPR story) should give all of us pause to think and consider. While these men and women may not commit heinous crimes, their mental health has been adversely affected by what they experienced. Depravity or not, they have come home radically changed.
 I think Mr. Brooks puts too much of the blame on Sgt. Bales and not enough on the system that trained him and deployed him multiple times. Is depravity just the burden of the individual, or is the system depraved as well?

Depravity, as defined by Mirriam-Webster is "marked by corruption or evil, especially perverted." I am not a Calvinist. I can't accept the idea that all humanity (created in the image of God) is marked by corruption or evil. Yes, we all struggle with sin and need the grace of Christ in our lives to redeem us. But I can't accept either Calvin's or Jonathan Edward's notion of a God who can hardly wait to condemn us. When I read the Gospels, I read about a God who has unlimited and unimaginable love for us. The parable of the Prodigal Son paints a picture of a loving father who, when he sees his wayward son off in the distance, runs to him in an incredible show of love and forgiveness.

I don't know what happened to Sgt. Bales on that fateful night. I do know that many lives are forever changed because of the acts he has been accused of committing. I also know that in the eyes of God, Sgt. Bales is as loved as I am. In the Episcopal church, we often pray for forgiveness for the sins we have committed as well as for the sins committed on our behalf.

If found guilty, Sgt. Bales will face punishment, as well he should. However, as a Christian, do I share some of his guilt as well? How do I make amends to the people who have been hurt by this event?

01 March 2012

Open Heart

I'm currently reading a book by Kenneth E. Bailey entitled Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes. Dr. Bailey spent over 40 years living and teaching in the Middle East. He is Christian and his specialities include culture and language, including Arabic, Hebrew and Aramaic.

In Chapter 7, The Lord's Prayer: God our Father, Dr. Bailey tells a story that happened to him while giving a lecture in Riga for the Latvian Lutheran Church. His students were of the age that they would have been educated within the state communistic system. Curious about how they came to faith, he asked a young woman about her journey. She never went to church (they were outlawed), her family were atheists and she was not aware of an underground church in her area. 

The young woman explained: “At funerals, we were allowed to recite the Lord’s Prayer. As a young child I heard those strange words and had no idea who we were talking to, what the words meant, where they came from or why we were reciting them. When freedom came at last, I had the opportunity to search for their meaning. When you are in total darkness, the tiniest point of light is very bright. For me the Lord’s Prayer was that point of light. By the time I found it’s meaning I was a Christian.”

I loved this story. I love how the Holy Spirit took advantage of a young woman's curiosity and turned it into faith. No human-constructed formulaic prayer needed. Just an open heart.  

This Lent, may I have an open heart that the Holy Spirit can take advantage of.