Working on noble aftermaths

The scene near the end of the 25-year-old TV movie Aspen took place in a court room. A lawyer was representing someone whom the city residents thought had murdered another person important in their neighborhood. The trial was controversial, but the powerful people of Aspen wanted the judge to put away the defendant. At a point just before the judge was to give his verdict, the defense lawyer asked to speak to the judge in his chambers. The request was granted. In the chambers the lawyer took the judge back to a skiing incident in their adolescence in which the lawyer had saved the judge's life. As adolescents, the young man who became judge, had promised his friend who became a prominent defense attorney, that if there was ever a time he could repay his friend for saving his life, he would do it. Back in the judge's chambers the defense attorney was saying that he knew the judge had the pressure of the town and the influential people on him and that he would probably rule against his client. He said his client was innocent and all the evidence presented was circumstantial. The judge agreed about the evidence being circumstantial, but told his friend he could not rule in his favor. The attorney then reminded the judge of his promise to repay a debt and said, "I'm asking for the repayment now. I saved your life. Rule for my client." The judge declined.

I still remember my emotions. I really couldn't believe the betrayal that happened in the judge's chambers. That riveting scene has been made a permanent part of my psyche, and I find myself emotionally responding to betrayal in all of its forms. There's a similar scene in the movie Braveheart. Mel Giblson plays Wallace excellently. The nobles of Scotland tell Wallace they will support his independence movement and call him to their headquarters. But, he is betrayed into British hands by the one with whom he had exchanged promises. He goes on to die a noble death, but the moment of betrayal by the lords of Scotland particularly repusles me.

Then, of course, there is the case of the one who called himself God's Son. He was with his followers in Jerusalem for the holiest of holidays. It was a show down. The high priest could see that the crowds were going to capitulate their normal beliefs in favor of the teaching of this Son of God. The story of Judas' betrayal is well known. But it still rips out the heart to read of or see the delivery of God's Son to the Temple Guard and eventually the Roman authority.

Humans betray each other. That's what we do. I am as guilty as the next person, so I don't know why I have highlighted this particular human activity in my mind. Maybe it's because the blade that causes the wound pierces the flesh to the bone. Maybe it's because the healing afterward takes so long. Maybe it's because the anger that is incited burns red hot searing in the pain and eventually scarring the mind. Betrayal causes temporary disorientation.

The really big betrayals in my own life have resulted each time in a total redirection of life's flow. They have caused great questioning of core values. There's no telling where I would have ended up had they not happened. I don't know that my character has been strengthened by them, but I am a better discerner of others' characters. The final scenes of Aspen have been burned into my psyche. So, I understand more about human nature. The downside is that it affects how I care about others, how much I care about others, and when I care about others. I'm not considered to be a very open person by those around me. I need to work on that. It's a result of major redirects in my life brought about by betrayals. But, since the Son of God has been down that path, I can do as He did and do as Wallace did who followed Him, and work on noble aftermaths.