Every anniversary of 9/11/01 is difficult for me. I was a pilot that day, in the air as those two planes were used as missiles to strike the World Trade Center towers one and two. To this day I get queasy as I relive the events of that day and the days following. I remember as if it was yesterday taking off and flying back to my hometown a few days later. Never before or since have I experienced such conflicted feelings.
That was going to be the topic for this post, but another, much more recent event, has brought all of those feelings back to me, albeit in a much different manner. As I write this (9/11/18), it has been less than a week since a young man was shot and killed by a police woman who, according to her story, mistakenly entered his apartment thinking it was hers. The young man was my brother in Christ, according to all who knew him he was a great disciple of Christ. The young police woman was also highly respected by her peers, earning the right to become a part of a special unit to combat crime in her city.
This is a tragedy of epic proportions. There simply is no good way for this to be resolved. Botham Jean will never be brought back to life. The young officer will always have to deal with the fact that she took an innocent life. It simply does not matter at this point if she is convicted of a crime or not. If she was a conscientious officer – and by all accounts she was – this event will traumatize her for the rest of her life. It should.
Seventeen years ago we learned what hate can do to a country. It is obvious as I read what people are saying about this tragedy in Dallas, that we have not learned a damned thing about hate. And for those of you who wonder, yes, I thought long and hard about using that adjective. There is nothing about hate that is not damnable and damned. And, those of us who hate will share in that damnation.
When I told my wife about the events, her response was that she hoped the young man was not black. He was. She said she hoped the police woman was not white. She is. Those two facts are apparently all that some people need to know. People of another race are to be hated. Police are to be hated. Hate, hate, hate.
I do not want to suggest that the officer is not guilty of a horrendous crime. At the very least she is guilty of a gross negligence that deserves some penalty. I am simply not competent enough to know all the laws of Texas and to know what punishment is appropriate for her crime. She is guilty of taking an innocent human life, in his own apartment, where he should have felt the most safe.
But as I write this – less than a week after the events unfolded – there simply has not been enough facts of the story released for ANYONE to know what happened, except, of course, the officer. So much misinformation has been distributed as to make any decent understanding of that night almost impossible. Some claim there was a verbal exchange between Botham and the officer. There was at least one report that she was returning home after a fifteen hour shift. True? False? We as the general public simply have no way of knowing for sure.
One response that I have seen from a number of people is that, because the officer was off duty, she was no longer a “police officer” and should not be accorded any of the protections that come with her position. I simply want to ask: at what point does a person cease to fulfill his or her occupation? Does a doctor cease to be a doctor when he or she leaves the hospital? If he or she were to come upon a person in distress or having been wounded does the doctor say, “I’m sorry, I clocked out – I’m not a doctor anymore?” Does a fireman simply walk away from a burning house with the excuse that, “My shift is over – I’m not a fireman now”? A police officer, especially in uniform, is a police officer. In the event of an emergency, if a person is in distress, if there is a crime being committed, that officer is bound by their oath to respond. To suggest that the officer not receive the protections also afforded to those who put their lives at risk every day is simply absurd – and full of hate. Yes, she is also thereby held to a higher standard – especially when it comes to drawing her weapon. Is she to be exonerated simply because she wears a badge? Absolutely not! But as I understand the situation, the Texas Rangers have handled her case with all due respect and dignity. They did recommend charges be brought against the officer while carefully investigating her story. That should be enough – but apparently it is not.
I have been deeply touched by the response of the family. Botham’s mother has been the picture of grace – extending forgiveness to the officer while at the same time demanding answers for the death of her son. On the other hand, the interjection of lawyers has inflamed an already emotional situation, and the charges of racism have roiled the city. This was not, and is not, a question of racism. It is a deeply disturbing example of human weakness, even recklessness, that resulted in the death of an innocent man. As a city, as a state, as a nation, we need answers. As the grieving mother has stated – there are just far more questions than answers at this point, and that has to be almost impossible for the family to bear.
As I drove to work this morning I noticed that both sides of the main road of my little town were lined with American flags. I almost had to pull over (and probably should have) because of the tears in my eyes. I remember so clearly why those flags are out today.
Seventeen years later we have not learned a thing about hate. We have a president who spews hate with every word he utters. We have a ruling congress that views each little opposing (D) or (R) as a symbol of execration. We have a culture in which polite discussion has ceased to exist, and in it place all we have is blind and deaf shrieking and screaming.
A sensible person would think, on this day of remembrance of one of the most horrific examples of evil this world has seen, that we as a civilized culture could put down our weapons long enough to realize the catastrophic end of a culture founded on hate. An eye for an eye works only until everyone is blind.
Jesus died because of hate. Our hate. Our hatred of God, our hatred of each other, our hatred of ourselves. If there is a symbol of hate that we should all recognize it is the cross.
It is not insignificant, then, that one of the last things Jesus said while hanging on that cross was, “Father, forgive them . . .” Jesus was nailed to the outside of the cross – he never let the hatred get inside of him.
Just a question – If Christ fills our heart – where is there room for hate?
God, have mercy on me, a sinner.