As I write, more and more revelations of the epic disaster on the campus of Penn State continue to emerge. I have read the grand jury PDF. It is grotesque and gut-wrenching. No person should ever be violated, especially not the weaker members in our society like children. Utterly vile and despicable.

The most heinous aspect of the situation is not the crime itself; it’s the mis-handling perpetrated by some in the school administration once the initial reports were given. Everyone from family advocacy groups to tax-payer lobbies are now pressing for information and a complete accounting in the wake of the revelations released over the weekend.

Unfortunately, Happy Valley is now going to be known as the Land of Minimal Expectations. Or worse.

Swirling through the morass of personal destruction is the reputation of Joe Paterno, vicarious god-father to thousands over the last fifty years he has coached the football team. Joe is not guilty of any legal wrongdoing as of this point. He is not being charged.

But in the court of moral courage, Joe’s been found to be wanting. Faced with allegations on another coach made by an assistant, he did what he was supposed to do—he reported it to his superiors.

But that’s it.

No follow up, no accountability to their handling of the situation. No personal investigation to determine the identity of the kid(s) involved. No questioning of the other coach or anyone else to make sure this was being addressed.

The failure of Joe Pa was in not ensuring that the matter received his highest concerns, for two reasons: 1) it involved someone close to him - an assistant coach he worked with for over 20 years; and 2) the nature of the allegations, even if not spelled out graphically, were such that he should have followed up and received some measure of confirmation that the incident was being fully investigated.

Since Joe Pa did the minimum, and nothing more, he failed to be the leader he inspires his students to be each year.

It reminds me of another scenario where a few people - icons in their community - when faced with the option of going out of their way to help someone, or go out of their way to avoid the moral responsibility to offer aid, chose the latter. Jesus told their story we know today as the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Ironically, if you could have interviewed the priest and Levite in the story after they had skirted past the wounded and dying man in the road, they would have ushered their justification as something like “the law says…” They would have been honored in their communities as men who upheld the constraints of the law and did the ‘right’ thing, according to it. They did exactly what the law prescribed.

The problem is that the law only pointed to minimum standards, not maximum opportunity. The law told them what to avoid. But the intent of the law was to give clearer focus on how to love someone. And in that, they failed. They missed the forest for the trees.

The question as followers of Christ is whether we follow the Law of Love or a love of the law. Following the Law of Love says I need to be compassionate and assist those in need or peril, even at the cost of my own personal scorecard. The love of the law says I must only do the minimum to avoid sticky and troublesome situations.

May we realize that laws are not our barriers to avoid dealing with people, just guidelines to help us know how we can love others who desperately need it.

May we be people who do not hide behind rules and laws, but step out and be people of exceptional moral courage in a dark land of minimal expectations.