Sunday, July 30, 2017
Point of law...
I like British television and discovered Acorn.TV, which has British, Australian, Canadian, New Zealand, and Scottish shows for a bargain basement price of $4.99 a month. One of the shows that I discovered was "Crownies," which is continued in "Janet King" (though the third series is not quite like Series 1 and 2). It is an Australian legal program.
What fascinates me most is the long, in-depth arguments that those in the justice system have about the rule of law. I do not quite understand their justice system. I mean, you have a solicitor, who gives instruction to the barrister who argues in front of the court (I think). Ultimately, the accused is represented by the solicitor, but the barrister is the one whose efforts keep that person from jail. The police make recommendations to the Department of Public Prosecutions, but the DPP is who decides if cases are actually tried.
Confusing.
However, as I mentioned, the basis of it all is the rule of law. Is there a point of law that has been broken for the accused to stand trial? Is that point of law provable within the rules of the court? The law drives the wins and losses in court, if the case for the breaking of the law is made based on the point of law. The discussions the lawyers and investigators at the DPP have amongst themselves are so very fascinating. On one hand, the show has the bit of salaciousness that all current programming needs to survive. But on the other hand, it is exceedingly erudite. The discussions are sometimes brief, but sometimes not. They are passioned and dispassionate. They are complex battles. They are complicated puzzles. I have actually watched the two series twice just for the love of the exercise of thought they take.
On CBS, one of the summer shows is "Doubt." It is also a legal program, but set in America, where emotions are just as important, if not more so, than the rule of law. I was watching an episode tonight and found it such a sharp contrast to the Australian system. The case was a man who was caught with a vial of cocaine in his pants. His defense: his wife bought them at a second hand store (not my pants). It turns out that he was an illegal immigrant with a new baby. His lawyer argued the Not-My-Pants defense, but let slip that he was an illegal immigrant who would get deported away from his good job and his loving family and his tiny baby if he were found guilty.
Is the possession of a vial of cocaine illegal? Yes.
Did he have cocaine on his person? Yes.
Was he found guilty? No.
Sympathy overruled point of law.
Besides the fact that you, once again, have Kathrine Heigl in the role of a pretty woman having an inappropriate, unethical, and lose-her-license affair (think "Grey's Anatomy"), the show is disappointing to me because the point of law does wholly not matter. The feelings of the jury does. Its sympathy or empathy or outrage.
Basically, it struck me tonight what a stark contrast there was between American legal shows and the Australian ones: the American shows have a distinct lack of jurisprudence. To me, they have a distinct lack of justice, too.
This might not make sense, but as I was watching "Doubt," I wondered what forgiveness means. What does it mean to forgive someone and how is that different (or is it not at all) from Christ's forgiveness? Mostly, I was thinking of the first question. I mean, it seems to me that forgiveness shouldn't be a feeling, but how do you escape the feelings associated with things that need forgiveness?
If I set aside the seemingly impossible act of forgiving your rapist or abuser, what about forgiving someone who was to care for you and, instead, betrayed you in very profound ways? How do you stop feeling such terrible hurt from such a thing? Does forgiveness mean that you do not feel those feelings anymore? Is it possible to forgive and still feel hurt? Or if you struggle with those wounds still, does that mean that you have not forgiven? I often think that I have no forgiveness in me because I have such deep wounds. And I feel pressured to have forgiveness, as if that will heal the wounds. When I hear such things, though, I want to scream, But what about justices?
It occurred to me recently, thinking about something the therapist said briefly before moving on to a different point, that I think it is possible for outsiders to confuse a desire for justice to be a desire for vengeance ... and, thus, chide the survivor for wanting justice.
I have heard other survivors talk about the pressure to forgive an abuser because of a familial relation. I had one woman tell me about how her pastor made her publicly forgive her male relative for raping her, go to the altar with him, and sit down to a meal with him. She was young and submitted beneath the pressure from her pastor and her family, but as a grown woman, she was deeply wounded and found little reason for the church to exist.
I know of another family, staunch Lutherans, elder in a church, whose daughter was raped and became pregnant. The rapist was a part of their local community, so they hid from him the fact that he had fathered a child. There was no forced forgiveness going on in that family. The judgmental part of me kept thinking how hypocritical it was to be a leader in your church and to actively work to hide the existence of your grandchild from certain folk.
Now, there is a terrible problem in our society in that females who are raped and become pregnant and chose to keep the child are not protected from future contact from their rapists. Rapists have the right to visitation if a child is fathered. There is no point of law regarding this problem. There is only a family court judge's opinion on what is right for the child, perhaps, or what rights the rapist has.
You commit a felony and you lose the right to vote. You rape a woman and you retain parental rights over any child that comes from that assault. SIGH.
So, there is that. But have I strayed too far from the thought I am trying to capture? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I am thinking about one singular act: being assault in church. I told an elder. His response was that were I to make it known, the church would be hurt and if the church was hurt, then I would be hurting Jesus. Did I want to hurt Jesus? Damn silence.
The therapist asked me how I felt. I cannot identify the feelings. I mean, I do not remember being in that moment. I just know that I wrote and wrote and wrote about it in my journal. It is a story about myself that I have collected (though the journals were burned a while ago in an attempt to make those things about my past disappear). I told her that I have a thought about it, but then I immediately can hear others tell me that such a thought was not constructive and that I need to leave such things in the past. My thought? I told and there was no one there for me.
How does that thought make you feel now? she asked.
Sad.
That elder was a brother in Christ to me. Did I forgive him ... do I forgive him ... if there is such deep sadness within me? If the wound of his question still stripes me?
Am I lying if I pray, Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us?
What is the point of law for me?
And the gospel?
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