Why do we look the other way?

I hurt for those raped and assaulted by Epstein, et al. I know what they know. I have the wounds they have. I’ve been galled, ruined, scarred, as they have. And no one was called to account for me either. Sexual brutality by men in power, whether that power is exercised in politics, business, church, or family, is something for which we are trained to look the other way.

We are wondrous beings, we humans. Psalm 139:14 acknowledges this. It is this wonder that so burns within us when we are mistreated. It is this wonder that motivates us to cry out for justice for ourselves and others. It is this wonder that, when rightly read, will lead us to peel off the shame and wield the formidable force of wounded warriors.

I wonder what the wonder does within those guilty of the mistreatment. I wonder how it chases, accuses, questions, and condemns, all in the effort toward repentance. And, if the wonder fails? Is it because, at least in part, our public square fails to chase, accuse, question, and condemn?

Why do we look the other way, I wonder. I’ve never heard a sermon about the evil of sexual abuse, and yet it impacts at least one-third of us. A Black man with a bit of weed will receive a harsher jail sentence than a white, monied man accused of “bothering” young girls, that is, if we can agree on the victims’ ages. We don’t want to “ruin his life because of one indiscretion?”

Why are we so willing to look the other way?

Illustration by Becky Heaston.