Redeemers and Destroyers
I was tooling about with my bundle of hate after I got home today and read the usual articles about Islam doing its level best to ruin all that is good and pure in the universe, how failed human beings were tormenting, killing, or otherwise inconveniencing others, and other bits of sunshine when I came to my journal's Friends List. The most recent story from one of these friends inspired me to once again entreat him to abandon his pathetic family and strike out on his own. I knew it wouldn't work, but I thought I owed it to him to try.
Then, I read an earlier entry he had made, just below.
Bad things seem to cascade down upon him endlessly, and he soldiers on as if no more than a few extra pounds had been added to the load he carries. The world truly does seem to weigh down upon his shoulders, yet even when he bears responsibility for the failures of a group of nigh-brain-dead incompetents, he asks for nothing except what every human asks of the sky in times of need. Even when total strangers compound his problems with their own petty and unrelated needs, he does not balk or flinch away. And when the Earth itself seems unrelenting in piling its problems upon him, he carries the world on his shoulders with nothing more than an exasperated sigh.
He is selfless in a way I have never witnessed in a living human being. He represents the very best of what humanity could be; kind and unashamed of it. So naturally the world does its best to destroy him. Perhaps it is shame that drives people to push him further towards being like them. Perhaps it is fear of his ability to endure without their empty religions, their guilt-based social mores, or their hollow and dessicated toys of fortune.
He is not perfect. He is not the Messiah. He is not without his wants, his needs, or his desires. But if every man were like him, the human race might truly ascend into something better than what we are now, and no man would want for anything.
So where does that leave me? Where does that leave those who are like me, who believe in the same goodness and idealism he does, but cannot muster the ability to forgive? What of us who see injustice and feel an overwhelming desire to obliterate it before it can corrupt those who have resisted its influence? I think only of my parents, grandparents, friends, family, and loved ones.They always come first--I rarely ever think of myself beyond my soul-searching. But can I truly call myself a good man when my foremost desire in the face of evil or hardship is to see it destroyed and brought to ruin? It is easy for a redeemer of humanity to consider himself good and righteous, but what reassurance is there for a destroyer like me?
History needs its destroyers. Some evils cannot be fought with kindness. Understanding will not overcome every obstacle. We joke about it, mock the notion, and use it sarcastically... But sometimes violence really is the only answer. This is a theme I have explored often, but it seems I still lack an answer. History will always need its destroyers to clear the path for the redeemers and rebuilders; but can you embrace such a notion and still hold on to who you are? How can you live in the shadow of hate and not give in to its violent urges? Destruction is, by its very nature, evil. Love creates; hate destroys. Compassion sustains, while cruelty erodes. Forgiveness mends things together, and anger tears them apart again.
I cannot tolerate the enemies of innocence and life. If I combat them, whether with words, with the sword, with the market, or with nothing more than a handful of scattered ideas, must I necessarily be counted among the evil? I could never live up to the virtue of my friend, who redeems our existence with his kindness and selflessness. Would history then damn me for wanting to see the enemies of such virtue obliterated?
Redeemers and destroyers... Long have I tried to be a builder, to foster peace and forgiveness in my soul--but it is in my blood to destroy. It is what I have always done best. Could I embrace that side of me, and not lose myself again to madness and despair? Is there a middle-ground that I have yet to find? Is there some hidden path I have yet to see?
Then, I read an earlier entry he had made, just below.
Bad things seem to cascade down upon him endlessly, and he soldiers on as if no more than a few extra pounds had been added to the load he carries. The world truly does seem to weigh down upon his shoulders, yet even when he bears responsibility for the failures of a group of nigh-brain-dead incompetents, he asks for nothing except what every human asks of the sky in times of need. Even when total strangers compound his problems with their own petty and unrelated needs, he does not balk or flinch away. And when the Earth itself seems unrelenting in piling its problems upon him, he carries the world on his shoulders with nothing more than an exasperated sigh.
He is selfless in a way I have never witnessed in a living human being. He represents the very best of what humanity could be; kind and unashamed of it. So naturally the world does its best to destroy him. Perhaps it is shame that drives people to push him further towards being like them. Perhaps it is fear of his ability to endure without their empty religions, their guilt-based social mores, or their hollow and dessicated toys of fortune.
He is not perfect. He is not the Messiah. He is not without his wants, his needs, or his desires. But if every man were like him, the human race might truly ascend into something better than what we are now, and no man would want for anything.
So where does that leave me? Where does that leave those who are like me, who believe in the same goodness and idealism he does, but cannot muster the ability to forgive? What of us who see injustice and feel an overwhelming desire to obliterate it before it can corrupt those who have resisted its influence? I think only of my parents, grandparents, friends, family, and loved ones.They always come first--I rarely ever think of myself beyond my soul-searching. But can I truly call myself a good man when my foremost desire in the face of evil or hardship is to see it destroyed and brought to ruin? It is easy for a redeemer of humanity to consider himself good and righteous, but what reassurance is there for a destroyer like me?
History needs its destroyers. Some evils cannot be fought with kindness. Understanding will not overcome every obstacle. We joke about it, mock the notion, and use it sarcastically... But sometimes violence really is the only answer. This is a theme I have explored often, but it seems I still lack an answer. History will always need its destroyers to clear the path for the redeemers and rebuilders; but can you embrace such a notion and still hold on to who you are? How can you live in the shadow of hate and not give in to its violent urges? Destruction is, by its very nature, evil. Love creates; hate destroys. Compassion sustains, while cruelty erodes. Forgiveness mends things together, and anger tears them apart again.
I cannot tolerate the enemies of innocence and life. If I combat them, whether with words, with the sword, with the market, or with nothing more than a handful of scattered ideas, must I necessarily be counted among the evil? I could never live up to the virtue of my friend, who redeems our existence with his kindness and selflessness. Would history then damn me for wanting to see the enemies of such virtue obliterated?
Redeemers and destroyers... Long have I tried to be a builder, to foster peace and forgiveness in my soul--but it is in my blood to destroy. It is what I have always done best. Could I embrace that side of me, and not lose myself again to madness and despair? Is there a middle-ground that I have yet to find? Is there some hidden path I have yet to see?