I was reading an article of yet another crime involving pornography. It is again child pornography. This is child pornography is called "Class 4" or something similar under British law. The only worse classification is 5. The height of tragedy is that these images, concocted by Satan himself, were held by a child murderer. This child murderer was a child himself when he murdered a toddler. He was let out at age 18 and given an entirely new identity. All of this was in the interest of his safety.
A child, from a horrible background commits a horrible murder. And society believes it is too expensive to house the murderer and attempts "rehabilitation." Few people believe it is really possible, yet the attempts continue.
I am going to assert that as long as any pornography is considered "normal," then rehabilitation is impossible! As long as images of degradation of any human being are tolerated in the mainstream, these crimes will continue and escalate. It has not been proven that the murder of this child was sexually motivated, only that sexual assault was included. I really don't care about the motivation. I care about the results!
Child pornographers are "motivated" by greed. The result is pure evil. I know it can be argued, even by me, that those very pornographers were victims themselves at one point. That is where this evil comes from. It is passed from generation to generation, spreading and mutating like the horrible virus it is. The mutations are caused by each generation slacking more and more in accepting immorality.
Each of us has been there. I've seen the steamy movies and watched to the end just to know how it turned out. I have sought to balance an artistic eye, only to have it assaulted by an image I can't erase from my mind. I have had the nightmares that the evil I have allowed in my own life, has played on. I don't hold myself innocent here and instead, find that speaking out against these atrocities is a way to heal and help the images fade.
The idea that we are allowed to muck around in the mud and still come out clean is even an idea touted by many evangelical Christians. They have this image of us being "dungheaps covered in a blanket of snow" that is Christ's sacrifice for us. But that is just plain not good enough! Either God actually makes us clean, or He doesn't. This idea that we are merely "covered by Christ" is what has led many to a path of continued depravity.
The whole point to authentic Christianity is an actual uniting of ourselves with Christ on the cross! It is not a simple, "Gee thanks for dying for me Jesus, now I will try to do better because I love you so much." That is absurd, and yet it is what many churches teach, (and sadly many Catholics who are not in union with Church teaching.) Every time a crime is committed against a child we are to re-examine our own lives and nail to the Cross each crime we committed against Christ. Every time we caused a child to doubt the love of God, a "great millstone" is hung around our necks.
The only way to stop the advance of evil is to grow in holiness. The only person I can change is me. And the only Person I can truly allow to change me is Christ Himself. He lives in us all and we must recognize him at every turn and invite him to each moment in our lives.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
People Are Genuinely Good.
I really believe that. People are genuinely good. I haven't blogged in awhile. My computer was broken and then I just couldn't get my spirit into it again. This is really for me, I guess, since I have about 3 regular readers (Hi there!) so thanks for reading. I suppose if I got that "follow button" going I might have more, but it just hasn't happened yet, so here I am, me and my keyboard.
I really want to get this out. I almost put it in my private journal but I wanted to type it and my last private journal got lost in the computer crash. For whatever reason, I want this out there. I want it out in cyber-space so that I could somehow find it again if I need it. I think it is one of my more important "confessions."
I selfishly want to know everyone. I believe, no matter what, that people are inherently good and I want to know them all. I say that is selfish because at the heart of it, it is. It is all about me. I, I, I. I want to know the goodness in all people. I want to experience it. And mostly I want to measure up to it and be worthy of knowing that goodness.
Like all epiphanies, this one had a catalyst. (That word means "a beginning" or "an ignitor" for one of my readers who says I use too many big words.) And epiphany, in this case means "a big new thought or revelation." The catalyst was my friend's step-dad died of cancer. (Basically closer to her than her natural father, and helped her become the woman she is.) Death often makes people mull over life and examine their conscience, so I guess I am no different.
But in this case, I am doing all of it for entirely selfish reasons. See, I didn't know him. Without having reconnected with an acquaintance from high school, he would just be another name. But that is what is getting to me. He lived this exemplary life and I didn't know him. His funeral is going to be huge, and I never heard of him until I reconnected with someone I barely knew in high school. I feel like I missed out. He was this major contributor in the life of someone who I have come to know and respect. And I never got to witness it. Somehow, it makes me feel very insignificant.
I am going to the funeral, but again, I doubt my motives. Am I going just to go? I want to "be there" for my friend, but it feels so weird. Why would I need to "be there" for her when people who knew him already are? It isn't like she or I lack friends. She has dozens and so do I. If it were a small funeral I wouldn't hesitate to add some comfort to a small number. But this was one of those genuinely good men who had a devoted wife, lots of friends, and was a giver to society. He didn't share my religious beliefs and I know little of his politics other than the two governors who will attend. So why am I going?
Because he mattered to someone who matters to me. Because I wish I had made different choices in life and had gotten the chance to meet him. Again, all about me. How selfish am I that I shed tears for "what might have been?" He was a good man, from what I hear, a great man actually, and all I can think of is, "I missed out." And on a deeper level I want to be able to support my friend because she represents the one type of friendship that I have never had. I have never had a truly close friend who is on nearly all of the same common ground as me. I don't have to explain my religious beliefs, or political stance, or parenting style, or my husband's idiosyncrasies, or my family, or anything. She just "gets it." That hasn't happened with any close friendship, ever. But I didn't know him. So we aren't on common ground.
One of the things I have come to know in my almost 39 years is that I have common ground with everyone. I have never met a stranger and I don't believe that evil is inborn. I believe we all have a natural predisposition toward evil but we are all inherently good. The Catholic Church refers to it in terms of "Original Sin," and "concupiscence," which is a tendency towards sin. We all have it and we all can overcome it. Without getting into too much theology, It is the teaching that we can all come to God even if we don't exactly know how, if we genuinely seek Goodness. My hope is to be one who fulfills the great Bishop Fulton Sheen's prophetic words, "There will be many surprised people in heaven." Surprised that I made it and surprised at who else did too.
In the end I think it all comes back to this idea of "control" that I am finally attempting to give to God. I can't save the world. I can't even really change the whole world. But I want to have at least known of as many people as possible who have touched it. I want to experience people. I want to see, first hand, joy and sorrow and distinguish the two while at the same time know that they are often two sides of the same coin. I don't make joy and sorrow, God does. Sorrow can be a very beautiful thing. What is the joy of reunion in heaven without knowing the sorrow that preceded? In heaven it is everlasting joy. What will it be to know everyone who ever was and ever will be and to fully know God? I have no words. I have no words.
I really want to get this out. I almost put it in my private journal but I wanted to type it and my last private journal got lost in the computer crash. For whatever reason, I want this out there. I want it out in cyber-space so that I could somehow find it again if I need it. I think it is one of my more important "confessions."
I selfishly want to know everyone. I believe, no matter what, that people are inherently good and I want to know them all. I say that is selfish because at the heart of it, it is. It is all about me. I, I, I. I want to know the goodness in all people. I want to experience it. And mostly I want to measure up to it and be worthy of knowing that goodness.
Like all epiphanies, this one had a catalyst. (That word means "a beginning" or "an ignitor" for one of my readers who says I use too many big words.) And epiphany, in this case means "a big new thought or revelation." The catalyst was my friend's step-dad died of cancer. (Basically closer to her than her natural father, and helped her become the woman she is.) Death often makes people mull over life and examine their conscience, so I guess I am no different.
But in this case, I am doing all of it for entirely selfish reasons. See, I didn't know him. Without having reconnected with an acquaintance from high school, he would just be another name. But that is what is getting to me. He lived this exemplary life and I didn't know him. His funeral is going to be huge, and I never heard of him until I reconnected with someone I barely knew in high school. I feel like I missed out. He was this major contributor in the life of someone who I have come to know and respect. And I never got to witness it. Somehow, it makes me feel very insignificant.
I am going to the funeral, but again, I doubt my motives. Am I going just to go? I want to "be there" for my friend, but it feels so weird. Why would I need to "be there" for her when people who knew him already are? It isn't like she or I lack friends. She has dozens and so do I. If it were a small funeral I wouldn't hesitate to add some comfort to a small number. But this was one of those genuinely good men who had a devoted wife, lots of friends, and was a giver to society. He didn't share my religious beliefs and I know little of his politics other than the two governors who will attend. So why am I going?
Because he mattered to someone who matters to me. Because I wish I had made different choices in life and had gotten the chance to meet him. Again, all about me. How selfish am I that I shed tears for "what might have been?" He was a good man, from what I hear, a great man actually, and all I can think of is, "I missed out." And on a deeper level I want to be able to support my friend because she represents the one type of friendship that I have never had. I have never had a truly close friend who is on nearly all of the same common ground as me. I don't have to explain my religious beliefs, or political stance, or parenting style, or my husband's idiosyncrasies, or my family, or anything. She just "gets it." That hasn't happened with any close friendship, ever. But I didn't know him. So we aren't on common ground.
One of the things I have come to know in my almost 39 years is that I have common ground with everyone. I have never met a stranger and I don't believe that evil is inborn. I believe we all have a natural predisposition toward evil but we are all inherently good. The Catholic Church refers to it in terms of "Original Sin," and "concupiscence," which is a tendency towards sin. We all have it and we all can overcome it. Without getting into too much theology, It is the teaching that we can all come to God even if we don't exactly know how, if we genuinely seek Goodness. My hope is to be one who fulfills the great Bishop Fulton Sheen's prophetic words, "There will be many surprised people in heaven." Surprised that I made it and surprised at who else did too.
In the end I think it all comes back to this idea of "control" that I am finally attempting to give to God. I can't save the world. I can't even really change the whole world. But I want to have at least known of as many people as possible who have touched it. I want to experience people. I want to see, first hand, joy and sorrow and distinguish the two while at the same time know that they are often two sides of the same coin. I don't make joy and sorrow, God does. Sorrow can be a very beautiful thing. What is the joy of reunion in heaven without knowing the sorrow that preceded? In heaven it is everlasting joy. What will it be to know everyone who ever was and ever will be and to fully know God? I have no words. I have no words.
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