c. 1998 Religion News Service

(Dale Hanson Bourke is publisher of RNS.)

UNDATED _ As we have watched the tears flow over slain Capitol Hill police officers John Gibson and Jacob Chestnut, as we have heard them eulogized as heroes, we also have witnessed another family in pain.

The parents of alleged gunman Russell”Rusty”Weston have come into our living rooms sobbing in anguish over the probability their son caused such horror and grief.

No spokesperson has fielded reporters’ questions for the Westons. No lawyer stands by their side advising them how to answer. Surely by now, plenty must have offered their services, but there is something simple about this couple that has captured our hearts, even in their darkest moment.

The Westons are parents of a troubled child. Apparently, they loved him and brought him up to know right from wrong. But somehow he grew from a freckled-face boy into a maniacal man despite their best efforts.

His father even practiced what is often called”tough love”by telling Rusty he had to leave the family home after cruelly shooting some cats shortly before the shootout on Capitol Hill.

The couple knew their son was mentally ill. He had been institutionalized and was supposed to stay on medication. But they couldn’t force him take his medicine and they couldn’t predict where his strange delusions might take him next.

As I listened to the Westons talk about all they had tried to do to”fix”their son, I thought of the people I have known who also needed help.

None were as ill as Rusty Weston seems to be. Yet standing by while friends or loved ones spiral out of control is never easy.

Often we begin by believing our intervention can help. I remember carefully writing out a budget for a friend who had managed to incur a sizable debt by the time she was 25. She thanked me profusely for the budget, then spent herself right into bankruptcy.

I also recall standing by a friend who had promised to stop drinking. After telling me what a good friend I was, she switched to vodka so I wouldn’t smell the alcohol on her breath.

That’s when most of us become angry. If only our friends would take our advice. Why can’t others see when they are destroying their lives?

Some of us continue the agonizing journey with addicted or out-of-control friends. Usually we begin to feel like fools for believing the promises when their behavior doesn’t match up.

And soon we realize there is only so much one can do for another adult. Whether the person is mentally ill or totally undisciplined, we can never help them until they are willing to be helped.

We can agonize and even offer a place of refuge, but mostly we have to stand by and wait for the train wreck that may finally bring them to their senses or create a situation where they are forced to get help.

Seemingly, Rusty Weston’s parents did everything they could to help their son. But his illness went so deep he believed the drugs that could control his schizophrenia were really designed to kill him.

My free-spending friend decided she might as well spend until she went bankrupt because it seemed easier than repaying her debts. And my alcoholic friend began showing up for work drunk, eventually losing her job and staying home, where she drank all day.

But there’s only one thing left to do after we have been exhausted by troubled friends and loved ones, after we have grown angry and frustrated and have given up hope.

It may sound simple and pat, but there is great comfort in getting down on our knees and praying. When we ask God to help those who are beyond our help, we recognize our own helplessness and begin to understand theirs. We acknowledge we are not”fixers”and they are not problems to be solved.

We are all bound together by our helplessness. And we all can do the only thing that brings any lasting comfort: We can pray. We can ask God to bring healing and understanding, to intervene in a holy way that will bring about true change.

This morning I prayed for the Westons and the son they still love. I prayed for my free-spending friend and the alcoholic I haven’t seen for years. And I asked God to free them all from their demons and to heal me of the notion that fixing others is within my control.

MJP END BOURKE