In honor of the general political spirit of the season, I thought today would be a good day to write about politics.
Although it could be fun to spend the next 30 minutes examining the opaque ideals and questionably inconsiderate forms of valiance that weave throughout the attitudes, claims, and accusations emitting from opposing political participants, the “Affairs of State” that I want to simmer on for a bit are more churchy in nature. What can I say? I don’t want to disappoint my readers after being so long absent, by not posting at least a couple of religiously confrontational monologues. It would be wrong! That being said, let’s jump in!
*I wrote this way past my bedtime, so please forgive the typos and redundancies that are more than likely to follow.
In Pari Delicto: A Brief Fictional Account of an Uncomfortable Situation
They were fighting again, and the funny thing was that neither could remember who had started it. As a matter of fact, neither had anything but vague inclinations as to when their arguing had begun, or if it would ever stop. Both were in pain. Both were angry. Highly accusatory tones and defenses had been hurling both directions indefinitely, so it seemed, and damaged feelings and egos were bleeding voraciously out of each of them. Who was to blame? Well, both were to blame, because both had participated in the ongoing fights, both had spoken in hurtful, unloving ways, and both had refused, at some level, to forgive the other.
When I walked into the room, startling at least the man (the woman was facing him, so I couldn’t see her face to judge her level of surprise), an awkward silence ensued. Momentarily, the woman walked out of the room by a far door, and the man approached me and shook my hand. “Hi, I am Impartial, and I am equally to blame.” His hand was large and sweaty, and shockingly, inappropriately tight. “Oh, well,” stumbling back a couple steps as I wrenched my hand out of his, “well, what is your wife’s name?” He smiled. “That wonderful woman who just left the room? She is just, well…” the man lowered his voice respectfully, “you know.” I quickly grimaced in understanding, “Oh, oh yes, I know.” He nodded, a look of sincere impartiality spreading sorrowfully across his face. “I am so sorry that you saw us fighting like this. Her moods are so… unpredictable, you know.” I nodded, appeasingly. The man paused, then added “Women are so hard to satisfy. But I know that’s a two-way street. And life is so stressful. Relationships are just hard, I mean, you know…” This man assumed that I knew a lot more than I did, but the more I accepted what he knew I knew, the more comfortable I felt in his presence. Straightening up suddenly, as if startled by his own gracious spirit, the man shook his head and declared, in a steadier voice, “well, so is life. Nobody is ever entirely to blame in these situations. As a matter of fact, where two parties are involved in disagreements and fights like these, both are probably equally to blame.” I nodded vigorously again, and he continued. “Regardless of why the fighting started, she is just as responsible. Why? Because she contributed equally in the arguing, and she said just as many, if not more hurtful things than I did. But I’m not saying that I am not also to blame. Sometimes I just can’t take any more of her… her… you know…” he faded off as she entered the room and took the opportunity to disappear out of the front door.
The woman walked stiffly to the sink, turned on a loud stream of water, and began clanking dishes around as she sniffed discreetly. I clumsily scooted a chair out from the little wood table a few feet behind her, facing the front door, and took a seat. Eventually, she asked me if I would like a drink of water. I said “yes, that would be very nice, thank you,” which made her sniffling increase. After handing me a glass, over my shoulder, she pulled out the chair to my left and sat down. She also had a glass of water, and I could tell from a glance out of the corner of my eye that she was staring at it intently, as if it were some rare and captivating jewel. A few long minutes passed in which she and I continued to avoid looking directly at one-another. The social inappropriateness of my presence had nearly suffocated me when she took a deep, resolved breath, tucked her hair behind her ears, glanced up at the front door, and then, for the first time, turned to face me. I adjusted my position so that I could give her my full attention. She spoke, in a firm but fragile voice, “I am Unforgiving, and I am equally to blame,” she said. Then she shook her head sadly. “Nobody is ever entirely to blame in these situations. As a matter of fact, where two parties are involved in disagreements and fights like these, both are probably equally to blame. I know this.” Then she wept. I stared at her face, unable to speak, unable to signal my agreement in any way. Blood crusted her nose and cheekbone, and one of her (nearly imperceptible) eyes was encircled with swollen, dark purple and yellow bruising.
The legal doctrine "in pari delicto," or “in equal fault,” is not in and of itself a wrong concept. There are cases in which multiple parties are equally culpable of wrong, wherein multiple parties are equal offenders. However, in my experience and the experience of many others, this doctrine has been widely and inappropriately misapplied. The belief that there is no perpetrator or victim in the majority of sinful (oppressive, harmful, etc...) relational dynamics, is unbiblical. Does the Bible say that every human is broken and sinful, in need of God’s redeeming love? Yes. Does the Bible say that every human is equally responsible in scenarios involving human sin? Nope. Does the Bible say that because humans are sinful, it is excusable for other sinful humans to harm or oppress them? Does it say that because humans are sinful, they have no right to bring their cases before a just judge? Nope, and nope. Does the Bible say that a husband and wife are to function as a unit, or team? Absolutely. Does the Bible say or imply that within marriage a husband or wife is not 100% responsible for their sin against the other, or that being married somehow magically eliminates the perpetrator/victim dynamic in scenarios involving sin? Nope. Does the Bible say or imply that justice is extremely important? Yep. Does the Bible say or imply that justice within broken human relationships is treating everybody as if they are equally to blame or equally not to blame for sinful relational dynamics? Nope.
I trust that all of you would agree with the above claims. The brief fiction I wrote preceding these statements was an extreme example of injustice and wrongly ascribed “in equal fault,” but, unfortunately, many subtler forms of this take place and are easily accepted within Christian circles. Simmer on this for a bit, and then come back for my next post.
While you’re thinking through these concepts, consider how the use of the words “forgiveness,” “grace,” and “love,” may be used destructively in conversations with people who feel like they are being oppressed or harmed by their spouse, religious leaders, or some other person in their life. There is a real “victim” stigma in certain Christian circles, driven by a defensive and arrogant attitude that labels a struggling person who is experiencing relational difficulties as dramatic and self-centered, or just plain old delusional. Well, or just, you know, female.
I have personally witnessed, too many times, Christians giving other Christians surface-level lessons in morality, when they should have been listening closely to their brother or sister’s distress. I am sure that I have done this exact thing on many occasions, which makes me sad. Y’all, Jesus didn’t love by telling broken, bruised people that the reason they were miserable was because they were being selfish, or that they should just buckle up because relationships aren’t easy. He didn’t shame them. He didn’t tell them that their relationships would get better if they would show their oppressors love. Jesus fed the hungry. He wept with the sorrowful. He touched the untouchable. He healed the broken. He gave life to the dead. Jesus mourned over the brokenness of Jerusalem, and wept over his people, because He looked directly and honestly into their situations and hearts. He didn’t stick morality band-aids on their mouths and wounds to protect himself from their inappropriateness. He didn’t forbid their healing on the Sabbath. He didn’t banish or deny their realities.
Neither should we.
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