The Callus Heart of Man

When people see unpleasant things portrayed in "entertainment" fashion, they often speak about how it makes them feel. One reads such things in film reviews or hears comments from acquaintances, when they talk about a particular emotion that a scene evokes in the viewer. In my mind, the reaction such scenes evoke should pale in comparison with what we feel in real life. There is a sort of strange disconnect there if that isn't happening.

Just today, I was walking across our enclosed parking lot at work, when I heard screaming from the park across the street. There is often someone screaming in that park. Most often it is children playing, while screaming at each other from the top of their little lungs. Just as often, I hear the blustering shouts of young men playing basketball, and using language which only serves to make them appear ignorant and brutish. I hear so much noise from that park, so often, that I had become a bit desensitized to it. Today, the screaming was different. As I walked across the lot, I became suddenly aware that a man was yelling, and his voice was carrying like a seasoned stage actor without a mike.

I began to visually search the area while my ears vectored in on the origin of the shrill and desparately repeated calls for help. I centered on two men about one-hundred feet away. They were standing on the other side of a small sedan at the corner of the park nearest me. At first I thought they were fighting, but then I realized that they were not the source of the screaming. I could tell that one or more persons was on the ground on the other side of the car. Either that man was being beaten by a third man, or he was being forced into the car against his will. By the time I made it to the fence to see what was going on, the two men standing were anxiously watching me watch them. This all transpired in scant moments, and I had a couple of options. One was to scream a warning at these men to stop what they were doing, the other was to climb over the six foot fence on our lot, topped by barbed wire and run over and "engage" the attackers. I chose a third option and ran into the building to call the police.

I have a number of cop friends, and once before I ran over to that park to deal with a person who was behaving badly toward a child. There were three of them and only one of me, but I went anyway. Relating the story to one of those cops, who I attend church with, I was told, "Dave, don't do that. Just call us. It's our job." He was very nice to me. He left out the part about what a goober I was for doing something so stupid, and the part about, "What if they had a gun?" So I called the police.

Meanwhile, my co-workers ran outside to relay a play-by-play to me while I was on the phone and unable to see what was happening. The guys involved must have seen me running into the building, and figured out that I was going to make the call, because they jumped into their cars and took off. That's when the speculation began. The police arrived, asked questions and got descriptions from the other people in the park, and then left. I have no follow-up information, but one of my co-workers said that he hoped that the man wasn't being abducted, and that he had been taken away before the police arrived. That is when I realized I needed to pray. I should have realized it sooner.

I don't have any idea what actually transpired in the park, but I don't have words to describe what those desparate screams were like when they met my ears. I have heard screams like that before, and I hope I don't hear them again. I've led such a sheltered life. It always amazes me when men become so callused in their hearts that they will treat other people in such ways without feeling for them.

I was in a discussion this evening with some men who said that Jesus was just another man, and Christianity just another religion. I told them, "From my viewpoint, I have a book wherein the author says, "Love the Lord God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength." and "Love your neighbor as yourself." If the whole world did those two things, what bad could possibly come from it?" I was ignored.

That is what people are doing when they treat other people with such contempt. They ignore not only what they know to be completely wrong, but also the horror of the person experiencing the suffering being inflicted upon them. In a way I am very grateful that I have led such sheltered life, but as painful as it can be, I am also glad that I can see these ugly instances in life for what they are, because I love and serve a God whose goodness, love and grace are such a contrast to them.