The Hallmark of Evil

I remember back in the summer of 2001, when Taliban militants destroyed the tallest Buddah statue in the world.  I read the article about it in Time magazine, and said when I saw the photos of its destruction, "This is evil."   I remember thinking in my bones, this is evil. Destroying beauty, destroying what others consider sacred, destroying art, destroying anything which brings others hope and peace, is violent, is cruel, and is evil.

 

Today, I looked at the news feed and saw once gain, militants within ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) group first stopped people from praying at the shrine, then filled it with dynamite and destroyed it.  They blew up "Jonah's tomb"/the Muslim Shrine of Yunus so that according to witnesses, there is nothing left but dust. They even released a video but I won't post it.

 

But digging below the newsfeed which is oddly making the rounds, there lurks a thread about the video being six months old, manipulated and a piece of propaganda. Indeed, a quick search indicates there were reports back as old as 2013 --ancient in internet terms, about the destruction of this site.  Yet I found the films of the destruction touted on CNN, editorialized at the Washington Post, and on other sites today. 

 

So we are left with what happened and why is it important?   If ISIS destroyed a shrine for the purposes of destroying a shrine, (asserting rule), it is evil.  If they claim to have destroyed a shrine for the purposes of establishing themselves as powerful and promoting fear in those who might pray or practice a different faith, it is evil. The hallmark of evil is destruction, is violence, is the willful elimination of the sacred. Lies are also a hallmark of evil.   

 

The world is focused on the sensational of this story, the reporters tell you not to blink or you'll miss the destruction.   They mention the oddity of the story of Jonah because that's splashy.  But they are not asking the question "Why?" Perhaps it seems simply par for the course with the chaos that marks this week's news cycle.  But truth is found by asking questions rather than repeating whatever catches the ear and the eye. Why?  It is dangerous to ask why, because it then demands an action if we get an answer that indicates, here is an evil. We must act if we would not be complacent or complicit with evil.

 

Then I came across this story over at the Anchoress, I'd not read it, but I'd seen the headline, that the US government knew ahead of time of the plan by ISIS to overrun and chose to not respond to it.  There were reasons, but perhaps they should answer and rethink, why? Those caught in the crosshairs who have the misfortune of not subscribing to the radical form of Islam promoted by Isis, face the choice of conversion, paying a tax for being non-Muslim, or death..  Those who dare to speak up against this religious/ethnic purge in Iraq, might wind up like Professor Ali ‘Asali. 

 

So again, the destruction of the innocent, the creation of a state of permanent fear, and prospect of violence for speaking out against violence, looms.  And if we continue to watch with a detached spirit, one day, it will be asked of us.  Why?  If we recognize in these acts, the destruction of beauty, the assassination of dissent, the threatening of those who think differently, the displacement of residents who flee out of fear, why are we not doing something?  If we just watch, we will see a wild fire of evil consume more innocent, more beauty, more of what we value, hearth and home, peace, freedom and family.   And one day, we'll have to answer what we aren't asking now, why?

 

What we can do? 

 

1) Stay informed.  Amnesty International, BBC, and whatever other sites you deem credible.  But cross reference.  I liked this article over at Get Religion. 

 

2) Pray.  We perpetually underestimate in the way a child misunderstands space and time, the efficaciousness of prayer.  Best bet?  The Rosary.  Pray to the Queen of Peace, asking her to ask her son to grant his peace, to pour it out over the whole world, the way one might pour out water or rather what we're asking for, wine.   We are out of peace the way the people at the wedding feast of Cana were out of wine.  If you've never prayed the rosary, here are two favorite sites.  here if you want to do it quietly with meditations on the mysteries, and here if you want to pray with others.

 

3) Fast.  Jesus tells his apostles, there are some demons which can only be driven out with prayer and fasting.  We often think of Fasting as only a seasonal thing.  Rather, we should think of it as a necessary thing, something which helps dislodge the evil of this world, even if we know it not, just as exercising gives benefits we do not see, even if the number on the scale hasn't moved much.  (Sigh, now I have to fast and exercise).  It doesn't have to be an over the top thing, just offer something up, anything, but do it knowingly.

 

4) Give alms.  Give to a charity that either provides needed necessities to refugees from the violence or one which helps give sanctuary or which helps them leave.   While it is a dated list, the American Institute of Philanthropy rates the top charities capable of distributing aid to those in need. 

 

5) Speak out.  Name it.  Evil works best when people either turn away their gaze, or say nothing. 

 

 

Lessons Learned from Riding the Bench

Whatever lessons you failed to master as a kid, come back to bite you as an adult.

When I was a kid, I absolutely rotted at sports. This was back in the Jurassic era, when kids were assigned to A and B teams, and you could even be a second stringer on the B team, or not make it at all. I doggedly tried out every year for every sport and consistently made the B second string or sat out the season. I drooled over the idea that some day, if I just worked hard enough, I'd make the A team and get a ribbon, a trophy or maybe even a letter. I was a victim of too many After School ABC specials. I even prayed for this daily. When I wouldn’t make it, I was often reminded, “Sometimes, God’s answer is “No.” but being a bullhead, I figured I’d keep asking.

Fast forward to adulthood, when the one letter I did manage to get remains locked in a memory box somewhere, the wisdom of 25 years sans trying out for A-teams has informed me that not having your name on the list is survivable. That lesson isn’t being taught today, at least not to kids.

In the enlightened 21st century, children now have endless options for participation in “non competitive” sports, meaning anyone can play. The term “non competitive” is hopelessly misleading, as I see antics on and off the fields of play that rival the steroid scandals in cycling and judge rigging in ice dancing. Competition may have been removed from the play, but it hasn’t been extracted from the parents. Parents who made the team when they were kids on merit, are determined to show that their kids would have made the cut in the old school. I know of one mom who played her four year old up with first graders. She lied on the application. No one had the temerity to ask, "What was the point?"

Spotting high school talent scouts with note pads scoping out forth grade CYO games, I started to snicker. I was told very seriously by another mother, if your name gets circulated, you could get a free ride by the time you get to applying for private high schools. Looking at the field of boys, all of whom I had personally seen have long discussions about which pokemon was best and which character in Harry Potter they would be, I wondered why any adult would spend time projecting what a 9 year old might become as at 15?

I thought things would be better when some of my children showed promise in the sports of their choosing. One of my girls seemed a whiz at basketball. She was even invited to join a select team. The initial pride at having a “talented” player went out the window when the coach explained; we would have to pay a four hundred dollar registration fee, plus money for uniforms and three nights of practice a week. Maybe I would consider this if my daughter was in high school and it meant college scholarships, but this was third grade! Besides, at $400 per ten weeks, I figured I could save for college and maybe we wouldn't need a scholarship!

The parents in the league looked at me with pity for denying my daughter this shot at the “big leagues” for a reason as flimsy and petty as money. I saw a mother tsk at me and murmur, “What a shame, her daughter showed real promise.” This refusal to commit was a moral failing on my part and doomed my daughter to a lifetime of lackluster accomplishment in the world of sports. If so, well, at least I know what sin I committed to wreck her life. Given her other talents, I’ll take that chance.

Another of my sons is a natural athlete. If there is a ball in play, he’s on it. He’s good. He’s fast, he understands the game and he cares about sports. It must be a recessive gene. Anyway, I couldn’t wait to see him on the field. Finally, it would be my kid everyone cheered. I dreamed happily of watching him score a goal and say to the camera, “Hi Mom!”

Like most fantasies, reality was far uglier.

In his first practice, my son did a gloating dance as he scored on a kid half his size, from his own team! Then there was the fight he had with a girl because she stole the ball from him. I'm yelling "Red Card!" and the coach explained, they didn't do that at this level of play. Yes, he still moves like a gazelle but I dread showing up at the sidelines. I feel I need to carry a sign that simply says, “Yes, it’s my child. I’m sorry and I’m working on it.”

The problem is, he’s really good at sports. He’s just not a good sport. At one game, when my child was being particularly aggressive and had been warned by the referee, I shouted to the coach, “BENCH HIM!” Everyone else watching the game looked at me as if I were nuts until I explained. “I’m his mother.”

Given that he’d scored the only points our team had made this season, the coach shook his head. I’d be forced to teach the virtue of humility some other way…like maybe when he had kids.

The years have resulted in a treasure trove of ribbons and trophies in my house that signify having played a sport, having been a good sport, having been good at a sport and having simply showed up to watch a sport. As I picked up the feather duster to remove the recent cobwebs, I pined for the days when you might not make the team. The morals learned from not winning, from riding the bench were clear; Not everyone is good at the same thing; Life isn’t fair; Sometimes things happen; Practice and work hard and maybe; all these life lessons came from not making the cut.

Suddenly, making the B teams didn’t seem like it was such a bad thing. And I heard God lovingly laughing at and with me, “Now you’re finally getting it.” And my daughter came home, "Mom, can I try out for competitive softball this Summer?"