He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

                        “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother”

          Americans seem to be hurling verbal insults at each other daily, decrying how venomous the “other side” is acting. Television stations emulate North Korean State Television, in relating the events of the day. I think they are modeled after the “Mr. Roger’s T.V. program,” it’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood.” Everyone is busy staking out the moral high ground, seeking to obliterate the other guys for disagreeing with them. All of this is happening in the land of the free and the home of the brave? How did we ever come to this? We act like ancient bog warriors savagely at each other’s throats, hoping happily to drive our American compatriots into the ground. Whatever happened with the joy of being Americans, in a world that is not much as blessed as we are? Where did all of this hatred come from? Even Irish weddings and funerals are less contentious.

             Sometimes, in the movies, you see a plot where an alien virus infects the planet. The pent-up rage erupts from the limbic brain of the infected, primitive savage. The unbridled rage spreads havoc upon the surrounding humanscape. Maybe that is the problem. The frigging aliens are poisoning our air. And of course, the rascals have tampered with the water supply as well. Maybe we all need daily rations of Bushmills or Jameson’s as an antidote? That would work as well as anything else being currently offered.

            I am not nor ever have been a huge fan of organized religion. The confining strictures, of strict adherence to the governing regulations of the order, never fit well on this rebellious soul. But, as I look at them now, through the prism of modern day events, I begin to wonder if I was in error in my thinking.

           “Do unto others as you would have them do onto you.” That admonition sounds a tad better to me than “do onto others and do so quickly before they get a chance to do it to you.” And the words of an old song whisper “beware of the helping hand on the back. It just might hold you back.” It seems the cynical have always been amongst us.

            Usually, it takes a catastrophe to get us all together again. Hurricanes, forest fires, terrorist attacks all seem to focus our society on the more important aspects of our life, looking out for one another in time of need. These humane feeling seem to echo the tenets of most of the major religions. It does make me wonder why more of the religious community doesn’t speak up when things get ugly. Everyone understands that the religious don’t “do” politics. That is, except for Bishops. We of course all know that they are golf-playing Republicans. But, all of them have the moral authority to say “hush now children, let’s all get along.” Asking for civility in public discourse might just have some beneficial effect. even on the most ambitious and rascally among us.

          I remember, from childhood, many occasions that when a member of God’s personal army advised us “to be quiet and be good,” we did. You don’t argue with black-robed enforcers from God’s army. Maybe we need a cadre of national nuns, who carry large rulers around with them, to crack the knuckles of the ill-mannered? Implicit within the exercise is the notion that these esteemed personages might also have a lead sap hidden under their garments, for heavy duty tutoring. And of course, the “call home” might be directed to the big guy and not your parents. Then, you would suffer through eternity for your transgressions. Fear always worked with us  well as a behavioral modifier.

          But mostly, I think of the teachings of Jesus, the Nazarene. His preaching, regarding justice, mercy and taking care of one another resonate through-out the centuries, with words that should mean something to all of us, in dealing with one another.

         Is “Speak softly, but carry a big stick,” our defining philosophy, as Teddy Roosevelt advised us? Maybe, but I rather prefer the words of modern rock and rollers, when defining our relationship with others, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.” 

                                             -30-

                                         (705 words)

                                   Joseph Xavier Martin