Blaming

The first thing that tends to happen when we are hurting is that we start looking for someone to blame. We’re constantly trying to make sense of our world and our place in it. Tommy Lee Jone’s character, the sheriff in No Country for Old Men, tries to make sense of his west Texas world where people take life for no reason. His moment of awakening comes when, having spent his entire career dealing with the darkest side of humanity, he finally admits that, though it puts his soul at risk, he sees no alternative to admitting that he is part of this world, too. Each of us bears some of the blame for the misery in it.

Then there is Jesus, on the cross, asking his father not to lay the blame for his death at the feet of those who are actually causing it because; “they know not what they do.”

Blaming is easy. Drawing a direct line between the hurt I feel for abandonment or betrayal to the person(s) I once trusted who have now caused is easy. But, once I’ve drawn the line, what good have I done? Where does blaming get me? Where does it end?

It hurts to leave a church after ten years, especially when I dreams of ten more and then some. There’s plenty of blame to go around. And, around. And, around. The blame-game is circular in motion, with no one knowing who will finally discover they don’t have a chair when the music stops. The world becomes a particularly unsafe place when there is no one left standing to take responsibility.

The only way out is when someone finally decides to break the cycle of evil by absorbing into himself, as Jesus did on the cross, responsibility for all the blame. Blaming is a dead-end street. Acceptance opens doors of hope otherwise inaccessible.