Thursday, October 31, 2013

What it Means to be a Real Hero


           This morning around 4:30 AM I awoke to what sounded like a person hitting their hands against our door (not knocking, but as thought they had just run to the door and were only able to hit it once before being pulled away). I also heard the sound of a woman’s shrill screaming and a man’s voice arguing and yelling. This was only for a moment though and it was all muffled by the sound of the soft rain. Flashes of lightening and claps of thunder had been periodically pulling me briefly out of sleep all night. Plus, I had only been asleep for about an hour after having spent 45 minutes dealing with two frightened and crying girls. Although there was now silence, and I am not one to jump out of bed at every unusual sound, I had the terrible thought of someone being attacked outside, screaming for help, while I just stayed in bed because I was too sleepy to get up. Then I heard the screaming and yelling again. This time I was certain that I was awake and not dreaming. I immediately thought of our neighbors across the street.

            A month or so ago while talking with one of our other neighbors, she mentioned that the night previous the woman two houses down had been beaten up pretty bad by her husband. Apparently she had come running out of the house all bloody, knocking on another neighbor’s door begging him to call the police. Incidentally this neighbor apparently has a gun, which he did not need to use that night, but I am glad that he had in his possession as he is an older man undergoing chemotherapy and would not have been able to defend himself or the battered wife. It made me think about the fact that we do not own a gun, but I fairly quickly decided that I would like to keep it that way. I was glad that our neighbor let me know about the situation so that I could keep an eye out for any trouble. I imagined, as I’m sure most guys who enjoy action movies do, allowing the wife to come into our house as I stood firm in the entranceway defending her. I imagined having to fight the man and him cowering away once he met with someone who could hit back.

            Nichole often cringes at my enjoyment of hand to hand combat in movies. It’s not that I enjoy violence. I abhor senseless violence and am actually very disturbed by scenes in movies or books where the bad guy kills or harms innocent people. But “violence” justified by the defense of the weak and innocent or for the preservation of freedom is something that strikes a cord of excitement and vindication that resonates to my very center. This is why I enjoy superhero movies or any book/movie with good guys fighting bad guys. I think the idea of being a hero; of rising up in a situation where a wrong is being done and making things right resonates with most people and that is why this is the usual formula for a good story. I think the ultimate example of a movie that fulfills my hero fantasy is “Quigley Down Under.” If you haven’t seen it, check it out.

            As I am prone to do in any critical examination of an issue, I started to consider the application of the scriptures and gospel teachings. The use of physical force to defend the innocent is amply justified in the scriptures and by the brethren. Think of all of the battles told of in the Book of Mormon and Bible where the Lord is clearly on one side. We are told that “if all men had been, and were, and ever would be, like unto Captain Moroni” (a man who spent his whole life fighting and killing in the defense of freedom) “then the very powers of hell would have been shaken forever and the devil would never have power over the hearts of the children of men.” That’s quite a statement considering the fact that Captain Moroni was not the most diplomatic guy. He didn’t mince words. He didn’t like to negotiate. He knew what was right and wrong and he had no tolerance for those who wanted to call good bad and bad good. His response to the draft dodgers of his time was capital punishment. His response to the terrorists of his time was to “arm even the women and children, follow them into their own land, and give them battle even until they are destroyed from off the face of the earth.” His response to political leaders who weren’t doing their job was to “smite them with the sword, so that they can have no more power to impede the progress of the people and the cause of their freedom.” Imagine such an approach today. The justification of physical force to defend others is clear.

            And yet…Jesus said, “blessed are the peacemakers”, “agree with thine adversary quickly”, “resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” ,“Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” Alma and Amulek submitted themselves to be tortured and then stood by and watched as women and children were burned. Thousands of Lamanites willfully lay down before their attackers and were killed, leaving their wives and children widowed and fatherless. Jesus permitted himself to be scourged, mocked, tortured, and crucified.

            The scriptures and the teachings of the gospel are full of seeming contradictions like this and it is something that really fascinates me. It is what I believe to be one of the “mysteries” of the kingdom that Christ talks about. How is it that God never changes, and yet things definitely change in regards to what we are supposed to do? I’ll just throw out a few examples: birth control, marriage, priesthood, substance use, and gender equality. I believe that God has always intended for us to have children and provide for them well, to be faithful in marriage, to honor the priesthood, to keep our bodies healthy, and for men and women to treat each other with love and respect. However, as I am reading the Old Testament currently, things were definitely different back then, as they were different in New Testament times and in the 1800s and as they are now. I think things just keep getting better and better. That is why we need modern day prophets. That is why whatever the brethren say today, trumps whatever someone said thousands of years ago. Maybe in Old Testament times the adage “spare the rod, spoil the child” was the closest the Lord could get to explaining the fact that you need to teach your children what is right and wrong. 

            That being said, I think that the use of force and domination to enforce the desistence of force and domination is inherently flawed. You can’t expect someone to change by doing to them what you don’t want them to do because 1) It undermines your moral authority; 2) It leaves them without an example of how to behave another way and 3) It breeds resentment. This is why I don’t believe in spanking. How can you teach your child to not hit and yell when that is exactly what you are doing? Despite what millions of nay saying, stubborn, frustrated and desperate parents will say, modern day research clearly backs up the fact that spanking is ineffective. I don’t care if that’s what your parents did and you turned out just fine. I don’t care if it seems to be the only thing that works. There is more to raising a child than temporarily extinguishing annoying and troublesome behavior. I believe there is no more powerful weapon than love. As cliché and wimpy as that may sound, it is absolutely true. Courage is not punching a guy out when he gets out of line. Courage is asking how you can help and showing him that although you hate what he is doing, you love him. It is forgiving him over and over (at least 490 times) just the way Christ has forgiven you; just as Christ has forgiven me. 

            After realizing that someone really was in trouble, I jumped out of bed and went to the window. I saw a man yelling and wildly gesturing as a woman cowered at her door. In a situation like that you don’t have time to really think, you just react. I quickly grabbed my phone and called 911. I asked Nichole to take the phone so that I could get dressed and go out there. While I waited for Nichole, I watched and talked with the 911 dispatcher. Barely 30 seconds passed before a police car pulled up. Someone else had obviously already called the police. I told the dispatcher that someone was already there and hung up the phone. Nichole and I then watched as the police tried to calm the man down. They eventually left. I think the man went with them. And just like that, it was over. But I couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt terrible. I wondered if I could have prevented some suffering by doing something sooner. I thought about the boys at the shelter and how many of them had to endure more serious situations of violence and lack of safety on a regular basis in their home countries. I thought about our girls peacefully sleeping in their room and how I would gladly give my life to defend them.

            After holding Nichole until she fell asleep, I rolled over and got out of bed. I ate a bowl of cereal and read the scriptures for a while, then took our dog for her morning walk. As I came back from the walk, I noticed that the wife was standing in the doorway of her house. It was very unusual, but I thought she might have just been looking out to make sure her husband wasn’t coming back. I approached her tentatively and introduced myself. As I came closer, I realized that her husband was sitting behind the pillar facing the door. He said, “Am I being too loud again?” He then recognized me (I’ve talked with him before) and apologized. He said, “You must have been the one that called the cops. That’s good. I understand why you did. I’m not going to yell anymore, we’re just talking, trying to work things out.”  I said that I just wanted to make sure everything was ok, and looked earnestly at the wife. It was hard to read her expression but she did not seem to be at all distressed. I shook the man’s hand and let them be.

            I don’t know this man very well, but I love him. I hate what he was doing, but I love him and I want him to have the true gospel of Jesus Christ so that he can change. I imagine he feels terrible about himself. I know that I feel awful when I make mistakes, when I behave poorly. I don’t know what I can do for this family, but I want to do something. I want them to all feel safe and free and loved and full of love. Because that is how everyone should feel (good guys, bad guys, the weak and the innocent).  

No comments: