"Where Are your Wounds?"

"When I stand at last before the face of God, God will say to me, 'show me your wounds.' And I will say, 'I have no wounds.' And God will ask, 'Was nothing worth fighting for?’" 

I could write a column containing just that phrase, repeated 16 times.

South African writer Alan Paton put it into the mouth of a fictional character decades ago.

This principle has marked the best of my life. Falling short of it has marred the rest. Too often I've been too lazy, too busy, too comfortable, or too uncertain to stand up when I should have.

No one can live up to this principle always; but we should know what it means, and keep a crocheted version pinned to the walls of our heart.

It meant for the early Christians that in a world marked by greed and violence, you could get hurt for preaching goodness and love. As Bishop Cantú commented during a radio conversation, that's why, when disciples complained to Jesus, He told them that preaching the gospel was meant to be hard.

It meant for Paton's fictional black school principal that, while it might be easier to go along, not making a fuss, attending white people's tea parties without bringing up politics, there came a time when he had to show up (and later speak up) at anti-apartheid rallies.

If you see someone getting beaten on the street, you do what you can to distract the attackers. In a roomful of bigoted “Christians,” the rights and dignity of an atheist are worth fighting for. Or a Muslim. Whatever group you hang out in, do you honestly believe that your God wouldn't honor you for standing up to protect an innocent stranger against intolerance and injustice? If you see your god otherwise, please consider adjusting your focus on that god.

The phrase doesn't mean fight violently. It doesn't mean just the big fights: opposing apartheid, segregation, the caste system, or genocide. 

 

It means speaking up (preferably without pomposity or self-righteousness) whenever anyone is being unfairly victimized. When I was in the wrong place as a 17-year-old, a stranger saved me from being shot. I've stepped in to save people from beatings – and been beaten myself, with no one stepping up to help me. Others I know have also intervened in violent or potentially violent situations. Sometimes just one person is enough. 

 

I watch again the video of the two black men handcuffed and jailed for simply sitting in Starbucks, waiting for a friend. They never raise their voices. I'm saddened by the Starbucks employees' conduct. (The video shows they didn't need those seats.). The police bought into the “crime,” and didn't seem to think twice when the friend showed up.

But what of us? When should we bystanders speak up? I hear my police friends saying those Philadelphia officers could have been interviewing the two men because of an outstanding felony warrant. There may be times when instead of quietly videotaping we need to ask employees – or the police officers hired to protect and serve us -- what they're doing. We might be arrested for obstruction of justice or disorderly conduct. Or someone might listen. Failure to listen to reason, spoken calmly, would teach us something in itself. 

 

At least, bear witness. Expose injustice however and whenever you can.

And if there are wounds? Better those than the deeper pain from not acting.

                                                           -30-

[The above column appeared this morning, Sunday, 22 April, in the Las Cruces Sun-News, as well as  on the newspaper's website and on KRWG's website.  A spoken version will air during the week on KRWG and KTAL, 101.5 FM]