Do not universalize blame

The Boston Herald

Beverly Beckham

This always happens. In the aftermath of tragedy, we look for someone to blame. If we can, we blame the victim. What was Sharon Tate doing with all those people in her house when her husband was out of town? Why would an intelligent woman ever jog through Central Park after dark? Why was Nicole Simpson with Ron Goldman anyway? Blame insulates us from tragedy. Blame gives us a kind of control.

We reason that we would never be so stupid, reckless, trusting; we would never do what a particular victim did. But then along comes a case where the victims cannot be blamed. They're eating lunch at McDonald's with their children when a guy starts shooting. They're on a plane or a train that blows up. They're behind a desk answering a phone when a madman with a rifle appears. It's then we blame the madman, but not just the madman. We blame his parents, his upbringing, his friends, his environment. Reporters interview neighbors and relatives and, amazingly, in hindsight these people always see what they never noticed when it was right in front of them. The alleged killer was weird, a loner. He made them uncomfortable. The pieces of madness conveniently fall into place.

What we know about our latest madman, accused murderer John Salvi, is pieced together from what friends and acquaintances have said: Salvi is an only child. His mother is domineering; his father unaffectionate. He was raised in a Catholic home. The family argued at Christmas. Salvi made a scene at mass on Christmas Eve. He regularly quotes the Bible. He wears a scapula. His truck sported a picture of a dead fetus. Bread crumbs - unless you know where the trail ends. Only then does each become significant.

Amateur psychologists, which we have all become, sort these crumbs into piles and this time the biggest pile is the religious one. NOW we have something to blame. NOW we have a reason for what happened: Religion did this. Dogma. Blind, passionate belief. If we have any shred of doubt about this conclusion, it's obliterated by what we see on TV, abortion protesters who stand before television cameras praising Salvi and calling him a hero. The Rev. Don Spitz telling the world: "We love him. We're for him. God bless him." See what happens when you tell people that abortion is murder? See what happens when you encourage people to protest against what is a simple legal procedure? See what religion does? These are the sentiments flying around right now. Every church-going person is being tarred with the same fat brush. If you're against abortion, you are in some way responsible for the mayhem that took place last Friday. Because, if the church didn't preach against abortion, if the priests didn't call abortion murder, if the cardinal had put a stop to the protests, none of this would have happened.

t's that simple. But honest? Accurate? No. And yet, there is a need to blame something because if we can affix blame, we can get on with our lives. We can point and say, "This led to that," and by avoiding "this" we can avoid more horror. "I join a stunned community in offering my profound sympathy and the assurance of my prayers to the relatives and friends of those killed and wounded," Cardinal Law wrote in a statement distributed in Catholic churches throughout the diocese. "To those in the pro-life movement who express their commitment through prayerful presence at abortion clinics, I would ask that you refrain from such manifestations. "To those who favor abortion, I would request that this tragic and criminal act of apparently one individual not become the occasion of universalizing blame."

Universalizing blame. That's exactly what is happening. It's convenient. Blame the cardinal. Blame the church. Blame the people with their rosaries. It's easier than sifting through a man's whole life, looking underneath the headlines, to figure out what went wrong.