Thank you for this. Like your other commenters, I have struggled with forgiveness. I appreciate your vulnerability here, and in other spaces. A beautiful humanity.
At 70 years old, I still work on forgiving those who hurt me. I am still working on what it means to be human, being okay with that, and responsible to my creator vs my old bosses.
I have forgiven the murder of my son protected by institutionalized sin. I knew I had to yet it was a long road. The forgiveness came from within and also thru the Holy Spirit. All I can say is it is possible and it is freeing. I carry deep sorrow and grief. These I have had to make room for. Life is beautiful and unfair at the same time.
For years I wondered how I would ever forgive this one human who did terrible shit to me when I was a kid. Therapy, church, therapy, etc. Therapists these days so often double as spiritual directors. She asked me one day, "Well, what would it even look like to forgive him?" When I asked myself that question, a weight moved from my whole being that had been there most of my life. I sensed the beginnings of forgiveness (but not forgiveness) and the possibilities, and just holding those things were liberating for me. When my hatred (and that is what it is) wells up for him, I keep asking myself that question. Forgiveness for him, in the end, isn't about doing a dang thing for him, but for me, anyway (and the Universe, as it were).
Have you been reading the lessons appointed for Sunday? I’d understand if you said no. I often wonder if I read them only because I’m paid to. Anyway, James’ letter has been filling the epistle slot these past few weeks. I always think of you when we come around to James. Doers & Hearers. Faith & Works. You were the first to draw my attention to the letter as something more than a series of Sunday morning sound bites. It occurred in seminary, the result of a New Testament class assignment (taught by a Lutheran?) That’s not to take away from the moment; it’s only to say that revelations associated with scripture, can often be tagged: “I remember where I was when…” So, I remember. I ask if you’ve been reading James because this post of yours seems to reflect a bit of this past Sunday’s excerpt. I suppose I’d have to go back and read your post and the passage from James to remember exactly why I thought they resonated. I just recall a resonance.
Similarly, I find myself identifying less as a human and more as a mammal. Mammal values are very different from robot values or insect values. Our ideas about love extend from the long gestation, the long vulnerable tenderness of babies and cubs and puppies, the need for close ties between mom and child, and sometimes dad and child. (Mammal dads are admittedly problematic but still preferable to insect dads). Spiders bite the heads off their lovers; robots trade and sell widgets without regard to whether the widgets breathe or make orange juice or pump oil; mammals pick nits off one another and grieve their tragedies and feed their children before they feed themselves (usually). The robots of social media are driving us mammals to become more robot-like, suppressing empathy, peace and nurture in favor of the more marketable values of conflict, division, and violence. We are becoming widgets and turning one another into commodities. If we were insects we would worship a god who ate its children but we’re not and I’d prefer it to stay that way, in the warm cozy fuzzy world of mammals. Our deepest values are embedded biologically to promote the well being of the species and, by extension, the world. Jesus would approve. 😁
Thank you for this. Like your other commenters, I have struggled with forgiveness. I appreciate your vulnerability here, and in other spaces. A beautiful humanity.
Also, I've just finished both "Psalm for the Wild-Built" and "Song for the Crown-Shy." I want to be a Tea Monk.
At 70 years old, I still work on forgiving those who hurt me. I am still working on what it means to be human, being okay with that, and responsible to my creator vs my old bosses.
I have forgiven the murder of my son protected by institutionalized sin. I knew I had to yet it was a long road. The forgiveness came from within and also thru the Holy Spirit. All I can say is it is possible and it is freeing. I carry deep sorrow and grief. These I have had to make room for. Life is beautiful and unfair at the same time.
For years I wondered how I would ever forgive this one human who did terrible shit to me when I was a kid. Therapy, church, therapy, etc. Therapists these days so often double as spiritual directors. She asked me one day, "Well, what would it even look like to forgive him?" When I asked myself that question, a weight moved from my whole being that had been there most of my life. I sensed the beginnings of forgiveness (but not forgiveness) and the possibilities, and just holding those things were liberating for me. When my hatred (and that is what it is) wells up for him, I keep asking myself that question. Forgiveness for him, in the end, isn't about doing a dang thing for him, but for me, anyway (and the Universe, as it were).
Have you been reading the lessons appointed for Sunday? I’d understand if you said no. I often wonder if I read them only because I’m paid to. Anyway, James’ letter has been filling the epistle slot these past few weeks. I always think of you when we come around to James. Doers & Hearers. Faith & Works. You were the first to draw my attention to the letter as something more than a series of Sunday morning sound bites. It occurred in seminary, the result of a New Testament class assignment (taught by a Lutheran?) That’s not to take away from the moment; it’s only to say that revelations associated with scripture, can often be tagged: “I remember where I was when…” So, I remember. I ask if you’ve been reading James because this post of yours seems to reflect a bit of this past Sunday’s excerpt. I suppose I’d have to go back and read your post and the passage from James to remember exactly why I thought they resonated. I just recall a resonance.
Peace to you and yours!!
Similarly, I find myself identifying less as a human and more as a mammal. Mammal values are very different from robot values or insect values. Our ideas about love extend from the long gestation, the long vulnerable tenderness of babies and cubs and puppies, the need for close ties between mom and child, and sometimes dad and child. (Mammal dads are admittedly problematic but still preferable to insect dads). Spiders bite the heads off their lovers; robots trade and sell widgets without regard to whether the widgets breathe or make orange juice or pump oil; mammals pick nits off one another and grieve their tragedies and feed their children before they feed themselves (usually). The robots of social media are driving us mammals to become more robot-like, suppressing empathy, peace and nurture in favor of the more marketable values of conflict, division, and violence. We are becoming widgets and turning one another into commodities. If we were insects we would worship a god who ate its children but we’re not and I’d prefer it to stay that way, in the warm cozy fuzzy world of mammals. Our deepest values are embedded biologically to promote the well being of the species and, by extension, the world. Jesus would approve. 😁