There is more than enough blame in the world to implicate everyone. “Blame games” are part of the air we breathe in human relationships and politics. It is so easy to see where the faults of the world lie and so we blame terrorists, and liberals, and conservatives, and criminals, and the justice system, and leaders, and teachers, and youth, and parents … the list goes on. The story of fault finding and blaming is a story as old as humankind, since the day Adam blamed Eve for the problems in the Garden, and Eve then blamed it all on the cunning serpent.
Even when it is not clear whose fault a problem or a difficult situation is, we are quick to conjecture and to speculate and to point our discerning fingers. The way we see the world makes more sense and becomes more manageable when the fault lines are clear.
Recently, I reflected on the encounter between Jesus and a blind man. As Jesus and his disciples were walking down the road, they encountered a man who was blind from birth. Even though they knew Jesus had the power to heal all manner of afflictions, the disciples pressed Jesus to clarify the fault line. Who was ultimately to blame for the man’s blindness — was it his parents who sinned, or was the blind man’s own sin at fault? For a moment, I closed my eyes and imagined myself standing with the disciples before Jesus waiting for the answer. I did not want to look at the blind man; I did not know how to respond to his miserable situation. It would be so much simpler to address the fault, to lay the blame and responsibility for his condition at someone else’s feet, or at his own.
To determine fault, to blame someone or something for a problem would help relieve me of responsibility, especially when I don’t want to be bothered, or don’t really know what to do or how to respond. Everyday I find fault lines that enable me to deflect responsibility for the problems of the world, the church, the community, the office, and personal relationships onto others. I remember watching as an elderly half-naked woman walked through traffic on a busy street in front of a downtown church. She was a curious pitiful site as she held up her oversize ragged trousers with one hand and extended her other hand for help from passers by. What is wrong with a government that does not provide for the mentally ill and the poor? Why doesn’t the church do something to care for the urban homeless and the street people right on its doorstep?
I felt somewhat indignant and angry as we passed by the woman without giving her as much as a backward glance. The fault line was obvious – there was a breakdown in her family, the social service system was inadequate – and the church was not responding to the needy people in the community. Furthermore, she was probably a drug addict or an alcoholic. The fault lines were obvious and there was enough blame to go around.
The same process comes into play when I meet young men and women in prison. Through even a short conversation I can begin to see the fault lines of poverty, family breakdown, physical and sexual abuse, addictions, education, social influence, and even injustice. Even as I try to see these individuals through the eyes of Jesus, I often find myself looking for the fault lines and breakdown of responsibility. There is plenty of blame to go around, and yet I wonder whose fault it really is – who is the most to blame. …
Whose fault is it when bright young kids become drug dealers?
Whose fault is it when beautiful young women die of AIDS?
Whose fault is it when a family becomes homeless and a father sits in prison?
Whose fault is it when a man is convicted of a serious crime he did not commit?
Whose fault is it when a man or a woman is released from prison and they cannot get a job?
Whose fault is it when people die in prison because there is no food or medicine?
Whose fault is it when teachers and pastors molest young boys?
Whose fault is it when kids drop out of life because they see no hope?
As I continued standing before Jesus with the disciples, I saw him reach out to the blind man. Even as he answered our question about the fault line, I realized the irrelevance of our question. This encounter with the blind man was not in order to delineate moral, familial, and social fault lines but to give glory to God through a compassionate, loving, and life affirming touch.
As he passed by, he saw a man blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him. We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night comes, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” As he said this, he spat on the ground and made clay of the spittle and anointed the man’s eyes with the clay…” (John 9:1-6)
Ron W. Nikkel is the president and CEO of Prison Fellowship International (PFI). For more information, visit the PFI website.