The faces in the photographs on the front page of the newspaper
startled me. They were laid out in rows. The first photo in the series was
invariably of a young girl, maybe with a mischievous smile or a rebellious
glare, but with a decided look of innocence. By the end of the series, that
same face was battered, bloated and bruised.
I had an English professor who used to get
deeply annoyed whenever students would cite some literary passage but not
bother to quote it exactly. I recall him telling us, "Look, if you're going to
quote somebody, get it right."
Just this last week I've encountered examples of what I can only
describe as spiritual abuse. It saddens one, because what is meant to be
life-giving, is turned in to death-like clouds of oppression, and that,
by the very people who should know better.