Even in the darkest times of my life, there have always been people who were - sometimes unexpectedly - on my side. The word that comes to mind when I think of those people is "kind".
One such person was the headmaster of my first primary school. I was constantly in trouble at that school, usually for daydreaming in class or not getting on with other children. Most teachers dealt with it themselves: I spent many an hour standing in the corner with my hands on my head, or in the corridor outside the classroom. And the head of the infants school was quick to give a sting with a ruler round the legs or on the hand. But now and then, the teachers gave up and sent me to the headmaster for more significant correction.
This school formally used corporal punishment for serious transgressions: the cane for boys, and the slipper for girls. Corporal punishment was only done by the headmaster, and only with parents' permission. My parents would not have hesitated to give permission for the headmaster to slipper me - and indeed, they did give permission for him to cane my eldest brother.
I have no doubt the teachers expected me to be slippered. But I never was. Instead, the headmaster treated me with kindness. He told me off, of course, though I sensed his heart wasn't really in it. And then he gave me peppermints and sent me back to class. On one occasion when I had returned from a visit to the headmaster's study, the teacher called me out for eating a sweet in class. She was completely nonplussed when I replied, "Mr. Critchlow gave it to me".
I don't know why he was kind to me. But I recall having some interesting conversations with him. My visits to his study were intellectually stimulating, not only for me, but perhaps also for him. Perhaps he realised I was bored in class and found it frustrating to work with children who weren't as clever as me. Or perhaps he thought encouraging me would be more effective than punishing me. Or perhaps he just liked me.
Whatever the reason for his kindness, I was grateful. And I did try to behave better, though as I never really understood what I was doing wrong, this was an uphill struggle.
Sadly the kindness ended when I left that school just as I turned eight. My new school didn't use corporal punishment, but there are other ways of being cruel to children. My new teachers were if anything even worse at dealing with my behaviour than the teachers at my previous school, so I was frequently sent to the headmistress, Sister Winefride. Her preferred way of dealing with me was to contact my parents - and my parents did use corporal punishment. I don't know whether she knew that they would beat me when I got home, but it wouldn't surprise me to learn that she did. She was a complete dragon. The one time my parents stood up to her and refused to punish me was when she accused me of stealing. "Frances wouldn't do that," they said - rightly. I knew nothing about the incident. She had targeted me simply because she saw me as a disruptive child.
As I pondered on the difference between the way Mr. Critchlow treated me and the way Sister Winefride did, I was reminded of Jesus's treatment of the woman taken in adultery. There is no doubt that the woman was guilty: she had been caught in the act. And the punishment for adultery was stoning to death. Jesus points out the hypocrisy of her male accusers: "Let him who is without sin among you throw the first stone," he says. The accusers, being teachers and practitioners of religious law, knew that only God is sinless. If they stoned the woman, they would publicly commit the crime of blasphemy, for which the punishment was death. But if they didn't, then they would fail in their duty to deliver God's justice. Jesus had caught them in a double bind. Unable to resolve it, they ran away.
But what is more interesting is what came next. Jesus, being the Son of God, was sinless. He could legitimately have stoned her. But he chose not to. He showed kindness - or what we perhaps know better as 'mercy'. He refused to punish her, and instead sent her on her way with a gentle warning not to do it again, though as far as we know without peppermints.
Recently, I read a book about bringing up children by the Christian evangelical pastor Tedd Tripp. He takes the injunction "Spare the rod, spoil the child" (derived from Proverbs 13:24) literally. He advocates beating children with sticks from a very early age, for very minor infractions of rules, and even for things that it is hard to see how a young child could understand were wrong. His book is widely promoted in evangelical circles as a model of Christian childcare.
The most obvious problem with his book is the literal interpretation of the proverb. The word "rod" is a metaphor for discipline, not an instruction to use a particular form of discipline. After all, the Bible uses the word "rod" in other places where it is obviously metaphorical: Psalm 2, for example, talks about the ruler breaking the nations with a "rod of iron". Sitting a two-year-old on a naughty step is "using the rod" just as much as hitting the child with a stick. Really, all the proverb is saying is that children need discipline. Duh.
But there's a second problem, which is more relevant to the point of this post. I read his book from cover to cover, and nowhere in it did I find mercy. If a child broke the rules, it had to be punished, even if it apologised, or even if the rule-breaking was unintentional. Mr Critchlow should have slippered me instead of giving me peppermints. Jesus should have stoned the woman taken in adultery.
Justice is fair, because the consequences of rule-breaking apply to everyone, without fear or favour. Mr. Critchlow's kindness to me was unjust. He gave me peppermints, but he caned my brother. Justice required either that he beat me, or he give my brother peppermints. Sister Winefride, who complained to our parents about both of us, was more just than Mr. Critchlow.
But justice without mercy is cruel. Punishing someone, child or adult, who apologises for their wrongdoing, or who does not know it was wrong, or who is physically or mentally incapable of coping with the punishment, is far harsher than God's treatment of sinners. I find it hard to understand how a man who applies literally Proverbs 13:24 can completely ignore Proverbs 28:13: "No-one who conceals transgressions will prosper, but one who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy".
It is perverse in the extreme for adults to expect mercy while showing none themselves. Jesus gives this hypocrisy short shrift: "Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy" (Mt 5:7) - which carries the obvious implication that if you aren't merciful, you will not receive mercy. Reinforcing this, in the parable of the 'unmerciful servant' (Mt 18:21-25) Jesus tells the story of a man whose enormous debts were cancelled by his king, but who then kneecapped someone who owed him far less money. When the king found out what the man had done, he changed his mind. He reinstated the debts and threw the man into debtors' prison. "This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart," says Jesus.
Jesus requires his followers to show mercy. The pastor who showed no mercy to his children is a sinner. And he's also a child abuser. He shouldn't be anywhere near children.
We need to be merciful to each other. To "be kind", as the internet would have it. Our lives depend on the kindness of others: "Kindness must watch for me this side the ground," said the poet James Agee. When there is no kindness, it's hard to stay alive. The kindness of people like Mr. Critchlow made my life worth living. And although my brother did not find kindness there, he did find it elsewhere.
"Be kind" is not merely a silly internet meme. Our society runs on kindness. When justice rules and there is no mercy, cruelty reigns, the bonds that bind us together fracture, and society fragments.
If we are to heal ourselves and our society, we must practise being kind.
Related reading:
Image of peppermints by Themightyquill - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4153632
