What he did was immoral. It was illegal. It was wrong.
Of course, some are going to say, we’re just arguing semantics here. Many words have shades of meaning that could be subject to varying interpretations. Mistake, I will fully admit, is one of those words. Even The American Heritage College Dictionary, which just happens to be sitting next to me, is no help in this debate.
mis-take n. 1. An error or a fault resulting from defective judgment, deficient knowledge, or carelessness. 2. A misconception or misunderstanding.
Father Miyares’ sexual impropriety could have certainly stemmed from defective judgment. In fact, that would be my best guess. But what about deficient knowledge? In order to believe this, we’d have to assume Miyares learned very little in the area of sexual morality while growing up and, then again, while attending seminary. This I would seriously doubt. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew it was wrong. He did it anyway. Was he careless? Yes and no. Yes if, by careless, we mean that he did not thoroughly think through his actions, and wantonly exposed others to risk and injury. I would, however, say no if we take careless in the same context as changing a lane without first checking the side and rear view mirrors. That explanation seems a little too casual to me. Yet even with the word careless, we could debate the semantics ad infinitum.
Apparently, this is just what we’re supposed to do with these types of issues. We’re supposed to keep open minds and consider multiple angles. Just listen to how one communication text explains semantics:
…The relationship of language and meaning warn us to avoid a rigid orientation that sees everything as falling into one of two categories of value: good or bad; right or wrong. Instead of approaching the world with this either or, two-valued orientations, we can remember that life is multidimensional and that meanings vary as the backgrounds and experiences of the communicators differ…
We all understand the value of semantics, I’m sure. But where does our desire to consider all relevant angles of a debate leave off and moral relativism begin? There’s a fine line here and, as a culture, we’ve crossed it countless times by being linguistically careless. Can the “I made a mistake” argument cheapen and discount illegal and destructive behavior? Let’s consider the following:
·Your Honor, I made a mistake by killing her. I shouldn’t have done that.
·The United States made a mistake by rounding up Japanese-Americans and putting them into a concentration camp during World War II.
·Nixon made a mistake by erasing those 18 minutes of tape during the Watergate scandal.
·The Enron executives made mistakes by defrauding investors.
·It was a mistake for Bill Clinton to have an affair with Monica Lewinski and lie about it.
·Okay, okay! So I made a mistake! Do you want to crucify me, too?
Mistake, besides becoming an obvious and convenient euphemism, has slipped into the American lexicon and made a cozy home there. It’s like Radon gas. You really have to go out of your way in order to detect it. But it’s there. And it’s doing more harm than you think. In the suspense-thriller, What Lies Beneath, Harrison Ford tells his wife, Claire, (played by Michelle Pfeifer) that he “slipped” and had an affair with an undergraduate. Given the rather casual verbiage, how is Claire supposed to take the news? Okay, honey. As long as it was just a slip.
I made a mistake. We’ve become far too casual with our words. Some pretty awful people are doing some pretty awful things, and mollifying what they’ve done with a casual flick of the tongue. And many of us are letting them off the hook. The collective damage this phrase, and others like it, is doing to our moral fabric may be nigh incalculable. Each of us, however, can do our part by challenging unethical behavior and calling it by its true colors.
Assuming Divine Permission
“Oh, please. I don’t need to get an annulment.” A friend of mine after his marriage failed after sixteen months
24 Minutes to Midnight…
I have a habit with which I often annoy myself: I people watch. How people act, what they say and what they wear fascinate me to no end. Especially what people wear. Sometimes I think I’m the only one who’s noticed the casual and comfortable at all costs phenomenon that’s been sweeping the country for some time now. If you’re old enough, you will recall what people used to wear on commercial airliners; recall how we all used to dress up before going out on a date; and even think back to how everyone looked in church. Compare that with today.
The subject of proper church attire came up in class the other day. I’d been lamenting the dubious presence of flip-flops and shorts at my favorite morning mass and I was getting pretty annoyed. A student piped up and said, “I really don’t think God cares what we wear to church.” A few students nodded their heads in agreement. Of course, I had to ask how he was so certain of this; it sounded like he had some pretty important inside information. “God should just be glad we’re in church,” the boy added. I simply stared at him. “So,” I said, “God should just be thrilled with getting anybody in church these days. Am I hearing this right?” The boy nodded. I added, “He’s lucky to have us. So why would he care what we put on our feet?”
That’s right.
I chuckled and then started to ramble.
Attention All People of Planet Earth: There is now a clearance sale on seats in any and all churches and synagogues everywhere. Come as you are. Come and go as you please. The Almighty is so desperate for attention and devotion, He’ll take anyone. Come nude if you like. Inquire within.
My class sat there and looked at me like I had three heads.
Of course, I always tell them that if we can dress up for job interviews, court appearances and work we can certainly do the same when entering God’s house. To give The Almighty less consideration would make little sense. Our default setting should always be set to reverence and respect where questions concerning God and religion are concerned. Now, I’m not saying that this is specifically God’s thinking on the matter of church dress, I’m just saying that dressing up a little is the least we can do to show Him a little reverence.
I’m still not sure they got it, but I kept going.
I told them how I was once dragged along to a wedding (I’m not at all fond of them, to be honest) and suffered through the ceremony, knowing full-well that divorce for the bride and groom loomed just beyond the wedding cake. As it turned out, I wasn’t too far off. The happy couple split after a few months of enchanted bliss. At any rate, a few minutes after the ceremony, I slipped out the back while my wife was still socializing with some old friends. Somehow I ended up by the south door where I ran into, of all people, the groom. He was sucking down Marlboros as fast as he could while the bridal party posed for pictures back inside. “I’m not much on this church stuff,” he grunted, grinding the butt of his cigarette into the sidewalk. “I don’t know why we need to do this when we could have just gone to the beach or something.” I nodded and reminded him that his bride wanted the church wedding. So, too, did the new in-laws. I told him he’d made it through the whole thing like a real trooper. “Yeah, I guess.” He lit another cigarette and stared off beyond the church parking lot. He rambled on about not caring much for religion. Of course, he hadn’t been brought up in any particular faith. Somehow I wasn’t surprised. “I like the mountains,” he said. “I like to think that I can just climb a mountain and be in church. Why the hell do I need to be in some building?” I asked him if he’d ever gone up into the mountains to be with God. An odd question to be asking an edgy, chain-smoking, irreligious