December 2, 2005

The Death of Innocents and Innocence

There’s a one-eyed cat in our neighborhood named Jackson.

He’s had a rough life, but you wouldn’t know it from how sweet he is. 

Found in a dumpster and left for dead, Jackson was nursed back to health by a kind soul in our neighborhood.  No one knows how Jackson lost his eye.  The wounds look fresh though they healed years ago.  Many families in our neighborhood have tried to take Jackson in and care for him.  But he’s a free spirit who prefers roaming from house-to-house being loved and fed by everyone. Our neighbors across the street, Tom and Vicki, took Jackson to the vet for shots and medical attention. Except for his scars, the cat is in good health.

Jackson adores people and fears nothing.  Whenever my wife and I enter or leave our house he trots over to meow and purr until we scratch him behind the ears.  Occasionally dogs try to chase Jackson, but he won’t run away.  Instead he strolls up to the barking dog and rubs against him affectionately.  The astonished dog stands in shock unsure what to do next. 

Hands down, Jackson is the friendliest, most fearless cat I’ve ever known.  Not even passing motorcycles or garbage trucks frighten him. 

Recently, Jeannine and I went on a two week trip to Germany to visit her family.  While away we asked a friend to come take care of our two in-door cats Simon & Schuster.  She came everyday.  And everyday she saw Jackson who dropped by to purr and get his ears scratched.  Like most folks who see Jackson for the first time, she felt a mixture of revulsion and pity for this scar-faced, one-eyed cat.  But her pity was greater because Jackson is skinny and always looks like he needs a good meal.  Being a great animal lover she gave him some food thinking he was hungry.  He ate it as he always does.  This happened daily for almost two weeks.   

Thinking that Jackson was a stray in need of medical care she took him to an animal shelter for treatment.  When Jeannine and I returned from our trip, we heard the story and immediately called the animal shelter to get Jackson back.  Tragically, the shelter had chosen to put Jackson down, believing no one would want to adopt him.   

When I heard the news it hit me like a stomach punch.  A wave of sadness washed over me for not telling our friend about Jackson.  Now this sweet, innocent, affectionate cat was gone.  Killed by the good intentions of folks who love animals and truly believed they were doing the compassionate thing. 

If you’re not an animal lover, maybe this heartbreak doesn’t hit you like it did me.  I have two cats that I love like children (since my wife and I have none).  Jackson’s death left a hole in our neighborhood and a hole in my heart.  I trudged across the street to tell my neighbor Vicki what had happened.  We cried together.  We mourned the loss of an innocent animal who loved people, brought joy to many and didn’t deserve his fate. 

Part of me became angry (how could such compassionate, well-intentioned actions lead to such an awful result).  Part of me felt deeply sad and discouraged (why do I live on a planet where bad things happen to innocent creatures—or innocent people).

In truth, I’m not angry at those involved in Jackson’s death.  I really believe they wanted to do what was best—despite the sad result.  I can identify.  Sometimes my best intentions lead to sad results.

Recently I made a business decision that hurt a man I deeply admire and respect.  My intension was not to hurt.  But that was the outcome.  At the time I believed I was acting with compassion.  But the sad aftermath only caused confusion and anger.  As a result my judgment, my motives and even my character were called into question.  How did this happen, I thought?  How did my good intensions yield such sad results?

Some days, like today, I just get tired.  Tired of living on a planet where compassionate ideals can hurt people.  Tired of being in a place where good intensions can kill an innocent life.  On days like this, I just want to go and live some place else.  Not like Europe, Asia, or Africa.  I want to go some place else.  Somewhere beyond this earth and its sadness.  Away from the misfortune, anger, depression, and pain life here can cause.

The only such place I know of is described by the ancient apostle John who saw it in a vision while exiled on a lonely island:  Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a beautiful bride prepared for her husband.

I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, the home of God is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will remove all of their sorrows, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. For the old world and its evils are gone forever.”

And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making all things new!”*

That sounds like a place I’d like to go to.  A place where our innocence and the lives of countless innocents will be restored.  May that day come soon.

*Revelation 21: 1-5 NLT

Todd Chobotar
Mission development
Florida Hospital