Blame

There doesn't seem to be a lack of injustices present in our world lately, from the violence committed against innocent civilians in the Sudan and Iraq, to the violence wrought by hurricanes, earthquakes and the seeming injustice of those peoples' of privilege apathetic responses to those in greatest need. In all of these situations the blood and injury of pain cries out, and we can not deny that something has gone terribly wrong, all is not as it should be, and moreover we can not keep quiet about that fact. Shutting one's mouth, looking the other way, or denying devastation just entrenches the direction of our freight trains of injustice.

So we open our mouths, we shout at God, we scream despicables at the government, and we silently blame the affluent- and why shouldn't we? There is something terribly, and yet wonderfully human about wanting someone to pay, someone to take blame for what we know is dreadfully wrong. Our desire for someone to take responsibility seems to have some tinge of the nobility of justice. We are not participating in the wrong, but are closer to the side of right when we at least state the truth that something is wrong and there must be someone who bears responsibility for this weight of injustice.

How easy it is though for our right to veer wrong when we begin to assess, or in most cases when we blindly fling blame on the closest, most powerful target. Our pain must be accounted for and if this leads us down the road of abdicating oneself and implicating others so be it. Where though does this instinctual right of blame digress toward the wrong highway of pointed fingers with no rest stop for peace?