I would like to share here part of a "Letter to the Editor" that The Reverend Charles Stanley of North Carolina sent to every major newspaper in the world (thanks, Ted).
I have a vivid memory of coming home, as a boy of about nine years of age, and telling my father of feeling helpless horror as I watched the neighborhood bully unmercifully torment a boy even smaller than myself. My father reflected for a long moment, then quietly inquired of me as to what I had done about it. I said that I had watched until it was over and had then come home.
The look in his eyes penetrated me to my core for he had never looked at me in that way before. He said that he was deeply ashamed of me and he sent me to my room with instructions to think about what had happened. It seemed hours before he came to my door. He sat beside me on my bed, and, for a painfully long while, he said nothing. When finally he spoke, he explained, "There will always be among us dishonorable men who are devoid of humanity and compassion. They are but naked animals and an empty shell of what truly is a man. They attempt to fill their emptiness by the exercise of power over others, thinking that it makes them whole men. Often they are enraged that they do not even understand their own emptiness, what it is that they lack.
"When these men are also cowards, they disguise themselves as sheep among the flock and attack from the shadows. This is the vilest form of sub-human behavior for even animals attack openly when they must attack.
"When humanity and integrity are present in a man, he expresses them as compassion. When compassion and strength achieve perfect balance within a man, they manifest as wisdom. The compassionate man feels the pain of others. The wise man protects others from pain. For, if you watch and do nothing to protect others, who will come to your aid when you alone remain and the bully comes for you?
"Some things are far more important than your personal safety and freedom from pain. If ever again you see someone being hurt, protect him, even if you are certain to be injured in the process. Then I will know that I have truly raised a man."
This line, "...they do not even understand their own emptiness, what it is that they lack", really struck me, for it is a deep truth. If we know only one way of doing things, that is then our limit. This reminds me somewhat of Edmund, a nearly-illiterate teenager I used to work with. He'd lived all his life in the inner-city projects, and knew no other way of life. I tried so very hard to get it across to him the magic, the wonder, the seemingly miraculous way that books could open up the world for him.
I don't know that he ever learned to really read. I didn't keep up personal contact with him. I do know I've never seen his name in the crime column of the newspaper, and I guess that's something. He wanted to become a chef...
