oceans of irony

ever had one of those moments where you don't want to eavesdrop on someone, but its almost impossible NOT to? They're having a loud conversation in a quiet place, and you can't drown them out no matter how hard you try? And there's nowhere else to sit? You try to read your book, but you keep losing your place - you read the same page 16 times? ok.. so, you know what i mean..

I had one of those experiences recently. I really didn't want to overhear the conversation. What's worse is that it still hasn't left me... and its been over a week. So I'm going to blog about it and hope that it clears my thoughts...

A man and a woman, clearly from the same church and circle of friends, are talking while they wait for their respective children at an after school activity. We'll call them Fred and Betty. Fred is associated with law enforcement and the justice system somehow. (the irony of his involvement with anything called justice is nothing short of tragic....) Conversation starts out with Fred ridiculing the folks he works with, the ones he serves... the incarcerated criminal population. His tone is superior; seeping with condemnation and judgement. He refers to addictions, unhealthy patterns, family dynamics.. he says lots of things that might be factual. But the only thing I could hear was his 'if-only-everyone-was-like-me' attitude and the way he was empty of anything resembling compassion. (at least in this moment - I have no doubt Fred is a compassionate fellow at other times...)

He made 'us' seem like perfection served on wonder bread, while 'them' were seemingly undeserving of air to breathe. He clearly saw himself as successful, and therefore worthy; while the deadbeats he was talking about couldn't possibly attain this ideal; they're way too useless. In fact doing anything other than locking them up and ignoring them until they kill each other is a complete waste of time. (Its been a while but I think thats a direct quote.)

The whole while, Betty just clucked with understanding, her head bobbing up and down sympathetically. She threw in a few comments of her own, but she wasn't nearly as vile as Fred. She did liken a newcomer in her neighborhood to the subjects of Fred's distaste. Someone had the audacity to move in and sleep during the day while her kids played outside and were a menace to the community... you see, she was one of 'them', too. (My first thought was that perhaps the newcomer worked a night shift, and might need some support - but apparently this wasn't in the realm of possibilities for Betty.)

Need I mention that my blood was boiling? I would have said something, but I didn't trust myself to not spew some angry, teary insults of my own...

Fred and Betty's conversation continued, on a much lighter note after they had finished talking about the dregs of society..... now, they talked about their friends in common. Betty offered lots of helpful information about many people they both knew (read: gossip). Many of the people in their circle were described as struggling. I (and several other people in the room!) were treated to loads of personal information about broken marriages, teens battling drug addictions, people hospitalized for overdosing on performance enhancing drugs, extramarital affairs, and even a friend who couldn't get her eating disorder back under control. It was sad to hear about how much pain and hurt existed among Fred and Betty's shared friends.

It was even sadder how the two of them could find no commonality in the brokenness of the all people - some people received judgement and condemnation, others were good fodder for the gossip session. But no one warranted a single compassionate word.

There was something sickeningly absent from the entire conversation. Love.

I was desperately searching for it and I couldn't find a shred of it. Not in words, posture, tone, subtle hints... nada. Sad.

Did I mention that Fred and Betty are members of the same church? yeah. They go to this place where people worship and adore the God who said something about being love and having followers who would be known for their love.

yeah. no wonder I've been haunted by this conversation all week, hey?

Did I mention irony?