Tough Question

It was my intention to write something spiritual and uplifting. I don't think that is going to happen.  Something is lodged in my throat. Back up if you don't want to get hacked on....

Lara Logan, the news correspondent that gave the dramatic report of the riots in Egypt holed up in her hotel room, ventured out to do some reporting.  She was separated from her group, brutally gang raped, and rescued when a group of women got the military to help. She is recovering in a U.S. hospital, her family asking for privacy. The story made me ill and sad and angry.  And I should be.  It was a horrible thing that happened to a brave woman. My heart hurts for Lara.

A question is bothering me. If evil slashes a face that looks like mine, am I more willing to fight it?

Where do we think the secret source of our protection is? Our race? Our citizenship? Our professional credentials?  Sometimes I think that we are willing to throw a little spare change at women's causes in the Congo or Cambodia to salve our conscience, but are ok to keep the evil there if it promises not to stalk us.  As if evil is containable and satisfied with sacrifices.

The feminist movement has been criticized for layering its agenda, and hearing some voices over others.  Churches have priority serving. Neither have accomplished their goals of radical change: neither have leveled the tiered pyramid of human organization. We keep evil down at the bottom as much as possible.  We yell at it down there, throw stones at it.  We even get very angry at times, and push over some big boulders that cost us some energy and exertion. When, however, do throw our entire selves into battle with it? When it has our own kid by the throat?