Wednesday, August 3, 2016


(Posted by Glaucon Jr)

When I was a boy, I watched my dad beat the hell out of my mom at least three days a week until I was old enough to do chores, and then he gladly included me in the beatings and trips to the hospitals for my "clumsiness." 

Riddle me this, Batman: if someone--anyone--walked in and saw that, would he have said, "Stop bickering and put this hard feeling behind you?"

When I was sent to the States during the summer before 8th grade to stay with my uncle, I was covered on my back and buttocks with bruises that were in the shape of the belt buckle (since dear old dad used that end to hit me for getting a B). 

When my uncle saw it, what did he say? Was it "we need reconciliation in this family?"

No one ever said anything. And so it continued until I was old enough to fight back, not just physically but emotionally. No relatives, nothing. Because we don't talk about it. It upsets things. But while you're keeping the peace, the most defenseless bleed.

And that's the point, good people. I appreciate your wanting peace and harmony, but brutality isn't a joke. It's not something to gloss over. 

My dad apologized later, and it took time not only to forgive, but for him to accept forgiveness. None of it comes easily or cheaply. 

So stop with your groanings about how the demand for justice disturbs your delicacy. You insult the victims, and quite honestly you diminish the contrition of those who work to make amends. 

This is the substance of working out one's salvation. Don't trivialize it with the Gospel According to Hallmark.

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