Victimology

October 24, 2005

One of my favorite characters in the entire Bible is Joseph in the book of Genesis. He was his father’s favorite son, and received the famous coat of many colors. Joseph was a bit too precocious with his brothers, who became so jealous of him they sold him into slavery. He wound up in Egypt a slave, spent time in prison, but rose to the highest circles of Egyptian government.

Joseph made more than his share of mistakes. (I can certainly identify with that.) But no matter how many times life knocked him to his knees; Joseph refused to play the role of victim. If life gave him lemons, he made lemonade. Joseph could have easily played the role of victim. “Oh poor, poor pitiful me!” It’s a popular game today, and many people make it a lifestyle. Some folks even make it a vocation. “Somebody, feel sorry for me, because …” and you fill in the blanks.

Let me give it a try. “Oh poor, poor pitiful me! Somebody, please feel sorry for me because…” (let me think)…I know: “because I was born in the most impoverished place in America.” Can’t get any poorer that the Delta. Surely, someone will feel sorry for me for being from poor, poor Mississippi. Actually, that will not work, because amid the poverty, I found opportunities to better myself with the help of a loving family, a nurturing community, and a solid faith in Jesus Christ. Today, I consider myself among the richest people in the world; not because of a bank account, but in the wealth of the things money cannot buy and the world cannot take away. And as most of you know, I’m proud to be from Yazoo City.

OK, now I have it. “Poor pitiful me! Somebody feel sorry for me because … I was born with what doctors now call spina bifida.” Yeah, I ought to get a few tears for that. And to make things worse, the treatment they gave me probably cause the tennis ball size tumor I now carry in my chest. But wait, I’m 6’5”, weigh 300 pounds, and feel better than I deserve. With people in much poorer health, I cannot complain.

I know. I’ll play “the race card”. Lot’s of folks seem to do that. “Poor, poor pitiful me. Feel sorry for me because I am …. (fill in the blank)”. My ancestors came to these shores from….Caucasia! (I cannot find Caucasia on the map, but that must be where they came from because people call me Caucasian. I hate it when they do that.) But that ain’t gonna work, either, because some of the smartest, hardest working and most successful people I know are “minorities”. As a Christian, I believe there is only one race: The HUMAN race.

This victimology is not easy. Let me give it one more attempt. Oh, this is a good one. I did not learn until I was an adult that I am dyslexic. Can I get a tear for that? No? (You are a tough audience.) Reading and learning were twice as hard for me as for most folks. What did you say? Yes, I found a way to read and learn, even got a masters and doctorate. Yes, I am 57 years old and still thrive on learning. Yes, as a university professor, I “keep my axe sharp” by helping young adults learn. Guess that blows my last chance at being a victim.

If we would spend just five minutes a day counting our blessings, instead of dwelling on the negatives, we would realize that we are richly blessed, and our lives would be transformed into powerful positive discipleship.

Move over, Joseph! Although you and I have gone through some tough times we probably do not want to re-live, neither one of us would make a good victim. We know, with the help of our Lord, life is what we make of it. If we want to be a victim, that’s who we will be. Or, “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me!”