No More Bullies (12 page)

Every once in a while, as I sit back in our living room, looking out the large picture windows and admiring the majestic grandeur and beauty of the snowcapped mountains, I wonder how many of those big, brutal jocks I once knew are now limping from old sports injuries. I can't help but smile as I picture some of those big lugs reporting to a smaller-framed boss who has a better-developed brain and a much bigger office! As Bill Gates has said, “Don't pick on the nerds. You'll probably end up working for one.”

God does have a way of evening things out.

Just follow His way. Live your life well, according to His principles. He'll take care of the rest.

FOR THOSE
WHO WOUND

Chapter Eight

O
kay, it's time to confess; I need to come clean on some things. Up until now, I've been writing mostly from the perspective of the victim, which puts me in a safe place. I can be the sweet, innocent hero of the story, while all the other characters are the bad guys. Well, it was nice while it lasted, but in real life there is always another side to the story. Whether we regard ourselves as bully or victim, the Bible is quite correct when it tells us that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23). Truth be told, bully or victim, we're all made of the same stuff. We're all capable of the same things.

Have I ever wounded anyone? Yes, I'm sorry to say that I have. I never considered myself the bullying type—with the small-framed body I had, badgering or pushing other people around physically wasn't much of an option for me—but there were times when I could say mean things. I could spread malicious gossip, cut people down with insults, or go along with the crowd by ostracizing someone. It's so easy to do, and it amazes me how a victim, who knows how it feels, can still be insensitive to the feelings of others. Know what I'm talking about?

So . . . ouch! This could get uncomfortable, but let's be honest with ourselves and allow God to change us as we work through this chapter together. Most of us have been wounded by other people, some of us have
wounded
others, and some of us have not only been wounded, but for whatever reason, don't get a clue, and go on to wound others!

As with most other aspects of sin, wounding other people comes naturally. We don't feel the pain as we dish it out, so—here it comes again—we go along with the attitude that says, “It's no big deal. All my friends are picking on so-and-so, and I want to be accepted as one of the group. I want them to like me, and I want to be like them. Everybody does it. It's the thing to do.”

We know better, yet somehow this type of abusive behavior falls outside our definition of
sin
.

So let's rethink that definition. Based on what the Bible, or even your God-given conscience, tells you, wouldn't you say it's wrong to hurt, injure, or abuse another human being? Is it wrong to mock, tease, or bully people, hurting them, violating their personhood, and destroying their dignity?

Need I say more?

But even Christians wound.

For example, let's talk about all those squeaky clean, born-again students attending Christian colleges. Hey, they know their Bibles. They worship and pray at all the chapel services. They're out to spread the good news of Jesus Christ and change their world for the glory of God.

And yet, when you get a chance to observe the social fabric on campus, it's sad to discover things haven't changed much since junior and senior high school. The upperclassmen— yes, those fine men and women who claim to be followers of Christ—find it easy to put the underclassmen in their place. The jocks laugh and needle the nonathletes; the girls establish their social cliques and close the door to outsiders. Derogatory names and rumors float around freely. The very mention of certain names produces snickers among the elite in the student lounge.

On any college campus, it's normal to find a particular type of young male who takes great pride in his physical prowess and virility but seems stunted when it comes to character. He shoots baskets to show the world he can toss a ball through a hoop but doesn't help the kid who would like to learn; he presses iron to show the world how much weight he can lift but never thinks of coaching anyone else; he flexes his muscles to show the world he has bulging biceps and disrespects anyone who doesn't.

I encountered a young man of this description some time ago, and he was the quintessential bullying jock. I'd never before seen someone purposely wearing a tight muscle shirt and flexing his muscles at everybody. I thought only professional wrestlers on television did that! This guy could even make his neck bigger than his head, and he was really proud of that.

Unfortunately, along with all those muscles came an attitude. This fellow had the idea that his finely chiseled, powerful physique entitled him to be the king in any group, and he was more than willing to use his brawn to get that point across. I saw him grab a smaller guy, lift him off his feet, and pin him against the wall, purely to intimidate him. Now mind you, these were not children in junior high or youths in high school; this incident took place among young men at a Christian college! I must have been naive at the time, because it shocked me so severely that I didn't say a word.

In retrospect, I think about the film
A Few Good Men
, featuring Tom Cruise, Demi Moore, and Kevin Pollak. Jack Nicholson plays Colonel Jessup, the bad guy. Don't take your kids to see it—the language gets a little salty—but that movie has powerful moral lessons that apply here. The story involves two marines, stationed at the Guantanamo military base in Cuba, who are ordered by their superior officer to carry out a “code red” on a fellow marine. A “code red” is an unofficial, even illegal form of discipline that can take the form of a beating, hazing, head shaving, or any other humiliation, and the purpose is to “encourage” a foul-up to get his act together. The foul-up in this case is a weakling named Willie who, for undetected but legitimate medical reasons, is having trouble running, breathing, and keeping up with the other soldiers in the stifling Cuban heat. Unfortunately, as Willie's “encouragers” try to beat him into shape, Willie's medical condition brings about his death, and the two marines are put on trial for murder.

Thus arise some great moral issues and some great quotes.

The defendants' lawyers, played by Tom Cruise, Demi Moore, and Kevin Pollak, work together as a team even though they are divided regarding the marines' innocence. Tom Cruise thinks the two marines are innocent because they were following orders, but Kevin Pollak feels that is no excuse: “I believe every word of their story—and I think they ought to go to jail for the rest of their lives.”

It is no secret that Pollak's character has no sympathy for two tough marines who, even though following orders, killed a fellow marine. When Moore's character asks him, “Why do you hate them so much?” Pollak responds, “They beat up on a weakling! That's all they did, all right? The rest of this is just smoke-filled, coffeehouse crap! They tortured and tormented a weaker kid! They didn't like him, so they killed him, and why? 'Cause he couldn't run very fast!”

The issue leaps out from the movie screen: the strong preying upon the weak.

But then, within seconds, the other side of the issue, the
answer
to the issue, also leaps from the screen when Pollak asks Moore, “Why do you
like
them so much?” and she responds, “Because they stand on the wall, and they say, ‘Nothing's going to hurt you tonight, not on my watch.'”

The strong
protecting
the weak. Yes!

As the trial ends, the marines are acquitted of murder, but they are convicted of conduct unbecoming a marine and are sentenced to be dishonorably discharged from the Marine Corps. The younger marine protests, “I don't understand. Colonel Jessup said he ordered the code red. What did we do wrong? We did nothing wrong!”

But the older, wiser marine responds, “Yeah, we did. We were supposed to fight for people who couldn't fight for themselves. We were supposed to fight for Willie.”

By this point in the movie, I get tearful. Yes. This is the answer. This is what it's all about. The filmmakers have addressed something that we who spend most of our lives in safe Christian confines rarely confront: Namely, the depth of a person's character is not measured by his or her physical strength, but by the depth of his or her nobility. How do we treat those who are weaker?

Have you ever replayed an incident in your mind the way you'd like it to have happened? Here's my replay of that scene with Mr. Muscles and his victim on the Christian college campus:

I'd step up to that big lug, look him right in the eyes (when you're a white-bearded wise guy pushing fifty years of age, you can do stuff like that), and I'd ask him, “Just what in the world do you think you're doing? You unhand him immediately!”

And then I'd grab a telephone—in my mental replay, a phone is always handy—and tell that musclehead, “See this phone in my hand? Young man, you have a choice. Either you sit down and listen to a lecture, or I dial the police and file a criminal complaint against you for assault. Which will it be?”

He agrees to the lecture, so there
are
some brains buried under there somewhere. Having his undivided attention, I tell him, “It's time you seriously considered why God gave you all that strength and physical superiority. It wasn't so you could abuse, oppress, and violate those who aren't as strong as you are. He gave you that strength so you could
defend and protect
those who are weaker, fight for those who can't fight for themselves, and stand between the defenseless and anyone or anything that might harm them. Remember the biblical cities with the wall around them, and how guardians would stand on that wall to protect the people inside the city? That's what God has called you to do.

“Any
gift you receive from God is not for yourself, but for others. The strong are strong to protect the weak; those with abundance are blessed so they can help the needy; the smart and the wise are gifted to help the befuddled and foolish.

“The measure of a man is not his strength; it is the depth of his nobility. The measure of any person is how he or she treats those who are less gifted, less intelligent, and less able. The measure of a Christian is how willing he or she is to reach down and help those who are less fortunate— to take the strength and advantage they have to help those who have not.

“God has gifted you with strength. You should thank Him for that privilege by standing on that wall and telling others, ‘Don't worry. Nobody's gonna hurt you, not on my watch.'”

In my best replays, the now former bully and his victim become best friends and both go out to change the world for Christ . . . hey, it could happen!

On a recent book tour, I stopped in at a major Chicago newspaper to be interviewed by their religion editor, a pleasant gentleman with whom I immediately felt comfortable. We discussed my book
The Visitation
for a while, going through the obligatory questions and answers, and then, perhaps because he walked with the aid of crutches, we got on the subject of abuse, teasing, and harassment. He shared with me how, when he was growing up, the other kids gave him no end of teasing and harassment because of his polio.

“You still feel it, don't you?” I asked him.

He nodded. “Oh, yes.” He was in his sixties.

I was even more impressed with the reporter when he told me about his two sons. Both of them are big, strong fellows, and throughout their childhood, he taught them to put their strength to use in standing up for the weak and defending those who cannot defend themselves. Because of their father's experience with polio, they grew up with a unique sensitivity regarding their own gifts and the needs of others. The reporter raised his sons to be protectors, rather than bullies. Now that's the way things ought to be.

I told you that I never forgot the names and the faces of those who hurt me. There's one other name and one other face I will remember all my life, but for the opposite reason. I won't give you his full name, but his first name was John. It was a classic situation, commonplace and sadly predictable: I was a pitiful creature in my gym class, and some character with a truckload of dysfunction in his life came after me. Well, John happened to be there, and he stepped in. He had a size advantage, he was strong, and he was quite persuasive. With an assertive presence and a calm voice, he convinced Mr. Dysfunction that there were better things to do and better places to be, and Mr. D bought his argument. I don't recall that Mr. D ever bothered me again.

More than thirty years later, I still remember John, and I pray for him whenever I think of that moment. He came between me and harm. He stood on that wall. I think he's the only one who ever did.

We need more people like John in this world, and you may be that kind of person, or at least somebody who can become one. Perhaps, up to this point, you've been a teaser, a source of pain rather than a source of comfort. You can change all that. All it takes is a decision, a pivotal moment when you decide you will put a stop to the bullying and abuse and begin treating everyone who passes your way as a priceless, precious, miraculous creation of God, a person for whom Jesus Christ bled and died, a person who matters to God just as much as you do.

The first step is to wake up to what you've done and what you may still be doing. Admit your sins honestly before God, ask Him for forgiveness, and then declare that from this day forward, with God's help, your bullying and malicious teasing days are over. You will begin to treat every person as valuable, even sacred.

Grownup, do you remember being a teaser and abuser when you were in school? As you entered adult life, did you ever stop? Have you ever apologized to those people you hurt? Have you ever let go of those childish ways, or have you merely found new faces and bodies to demean? Now is the time to break with the past and start afresh. Right now, right where you are, can you remember the people you've tormented?