I was about 12 or 13 years old when it became known to all in the church that the wife of one of the deacons, herself an active soloist in the church choir, had carried on an extramarital affair with one of the church trustees. The woman was about to give birth to a child from the illicit relationship.
What I recall about the scandal are neither the salacious details on everyone's lips nor the pain of disappointment and anguish that the small congregation experienced. Instead, I remember the angry and judgmental words of the pastor.
"Until she kneels and prostrates herself on the front steps of the church," he said, "she will never be welcome in this sanctuary again."
He had the smug support of many of the church leaders.
The woman never returned to our church. She and her deacon husband eventually divorced, and she married the father of her new child.
She and her new husband moved to a neighboring church.
In my often-confused adolescent mind, mixed with the wonder and bewilderment at a growing sexual consciousness, the harshness of the clergyman's words and his attitude did not coalesce easily with the proclaimed messages of the church. Sermons and Bible lessons that rang with mercy and grace seemed suddenly irrelevant and absent in the congregational crisis.
Each time I tried to picture this attractive, pregnant woman prostrating herself on the concrete steps of our church while gaping neighbors and speeding cars raced by on the busy avenue, I saw an ugly picture. It was not a scene of penitence, counseling and loving reconciliation. Instead, it was a scene of mockery and embarrassment. In my mind's eye, the pastor and church leaders stood over her with sinister smiles of triumph and a delight at her humiliation.
Years later, as a small college basketball player, that scene of ugly humiliation was resurrected for me unwittingly by our coach. He was teaching us defense, and he stressed that committing an intentional foul was to admit that the other player was better than oneself. He added that if we ever fouled someone with the intention of injuring that player, we would find ourselves off of his team.
He sought to instill humble confidence in us. His corollary to the defensive attitude was to warn us about gloating in our triumphs. I remember his admonition:
"Your job is to beat the other team but not to humiliate them."
I recall hearing those words and wishing that as a 13-year-old pubescent attempting to understand grace and mercy and sexual scandal I had been able to admonish my church pastor and elders with similar words.
Now, decades later, the image of someone of power seeking to humiliate a wrongdoer has returned to me numerous times as I've listened to and watched the impeachment proceedings against President Clinton.
It's become clear that in the face of an almost certain loss of a two-thirds Senate vote to impeach, the House managers have taken a new tack. Their agenda to impeach has become an agenda to embarrass. Out of this process, they intend to have their moment of gloating over the humiliation of the president, even if it means twisting the constitutional process they have so adamantly insisted they are upholding.
Many observers have noted a change in the demeanor of the prosecutors. They no longer uphold the bipartisan politeness of their negotiations. When they are about to lose a point, they resort to words of high morality or pained expressions of having been offended. Their sarcasm, wrapped in expressions of patriotic commitment to the Constitution and underscored with allusions to great American battles, hides their consistent changing of procedural rules and belies a claim they are intent only upon finding the truth.
In the face of overwhelming evidence that Americans favor the Congress getting on with the work of governing and allowing a sleazy but effective manager to finish his presidential term, these knights of righteousness have become merchants of humiliation. Legislators who spend a good portion of their working day courting the votes of constituents puff their chests to tell us they are willing to "sacrifice their seats" in order to pursue their righteous convictions.
Rep. Henry Hyde (R-Ill.) on several occasions has reminded the senators of the lessons they will send to young people should they allow a wrongdoer and liar to go unpunished.
Each time I hear his appeal on behalf of youth, I remember my own youth, and recall that a lesson from the powerful and the mighty who had law and righteousness on their side was lost on me because they insisted on humiliating their victim.
Polls show consistently that voters, both Democrat and Republican, believe President Clinton is a liar and a lascivious man. Few think he's totally innocent of the charges brought against him. Yet, they do not want him impeached.
Cynical determinists suggest the public enjoys the benefits of the Clinton years and wants no stalling of the economic engine. They argue morality has nothing to do with the polls.
I read the polls differently. The public, which recognizes the president's immorality, appears less needy of driving him to prostrate himself on the steps of the Capitol. It appears the public is more merciful and forgiving than the House managers and less insistent on pressing for a triumphant gloating at the chief executive's humiliation.
Copyright 1999 Joe
Shea The American Reporter. All Rights Reserved.
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Allan R. Andrews can be contacted at allan.andrews@reporters.net