The Ones We Forget

And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.

Mark 11:25
 

Forgiveness work is an important part of a healthy spiritual life.  The consequences of unforgiveness have major spiritual, psychological, and even physical consequences.  It may not come naturally to us, but forgiveness is a practice that is too powerful to ignore.

If you are new to forgiveness work, check the series of posts I wrote that treat the topic more exhaustively.  For now, though, here are two things to remember.

The first is the issue of deserving.  Often, the thought comes to mind that this or that person doesn't deserve to be forgiven for such a horrendous act.  I won't debate that: many actions are so horrendous that the common attitude would be that the doer does not deserve to be forgiven.  

Don't let that stop you, though.  While those who do horrible things may not deserve your forgiveness, you deserve your freedom, and forgiveness is the way you get out from under the weight of those hurts and offenses.  

The second reminder concerns the offender.  Often when we do forgiveness work, we run though the hurts we've experienced personally.  We look for people who have not treated us as they should have.

In doing so, we omit an entire aspect of offenders: the people who are not part of our personal lives. Think of the customer or clerk who treated you rudely, the reckless driver who cut you off in traffic, the paper carrier who insists on tossing your newspaper into the ditch.  

Think of the criminals you see arrested on tv, the ministers who failed to live the gospel they preached,  the politicians whose greed and thirst for power offend you.  All the persons (or situations or institutions) that offend you when you hear or read about them are opportunities to forgive.  

I remember some of the old ladies of my youth.  "Bless your heart," they'd say when someone mentioned a trial in their lives.  "Bless their hearts," they say when told of people who were sick or in need.  They meant it, too: that was their heartfelt prayer for the unfortunate ones.

Like them, we can breathe a prayer of forgiveness when we are offended by what we read or see or hear.  Someone has committed a horrible murder?  "Bless his heart" or, if you prefer, "Bless his heart and bring him to justice."  Forgive in the way that seems best to you, but forgive.

 

Forgiveness hurts us, the unforgiving.  The offender wins again when we refuse to forgive, thus drawing all the unhappy consequences of unforgiveness our way.  Those consequences begin to accumulate as soon as we tighten our lips in condemnation.  

Do you have good reason for that anger?  I'll say yes, you do.  Is that reason good enough for you to suffer the consequences of refusing to move from anger to forgiveness?  Only you can answer that question.

Sticky Questions

There are a lot of those, aren't there!  When I was teaching in a publc school, a student came to my class shortly before the first bell.  She had been crying. 

"My cat died," she wailed. I commiserated with her and got a bit teary myself in sympathy.  Finally she asked the question that brought her to my room.  "When I said it was in heaven, my dad laughed at me and said animals just become dirt when they die.  Don't they go to heaven, like us?"

At the time, I was involved in a very fundamentalist prayer group within my larger church community.  I knew that the church maintained the position that animals did not possess an immortal soul and did, in fact, simply return to earth at death.  I knew the young girl wanted to hear anything but that, but I hesitated, not wishing to lie.

Sudenly I remember my second grade teacher, a dear nun, faced with the same question in a room filled with pet-loving seven-year-olds.  She reminded us of our catechism:  What is heaven but a place where we are with God in a state of perfect happiness.  She told us how deeply God loved us, and that He would never deprive us of anything to make our joy complete in heaven, and if when we got there we wanted our pets, of course God would see to it that our pets were there.  We were satisfied, as of course we would want our dear pets with us again.  In later years, we were taught the church's bitter truth, but for the moment, we second graders were comforted and happy.

I told my student the same thing, and like me so many years before, she was comforted and happy.  

She'd no sooner left the room than I was filled with doubt about my response.  Visions of millstones hung around my neck filled me with regret. Had I led one of God's own astray?  I quickly prayed for guidance, resolving to myself that I would retract my answer if that was the guidance I received.  But I received no guidance as the students came, talking and laughing, into my classroom. 

It was library day, so after homeroom I hurried to meet my classes there.  I was glad I didn't have to teach, as my heart was so troubled by the morning's events. 

After the librarian's lesson, the students wandered the stacks, choosing the books they wanted to check out for their monthly book report.  One of their favorite tricks was to select ad book and, rather than remove it from the shelf, pull the top edge down so that the book protruded into the aisle to catch the unwary browser as he passed. 

I wandered the aisles, too, pushing the books back into place as I monitored my class.  Walking the library that morning, troubled as I was, I unthinkingly removed one book from the shelf, a large slender volume. I idly looked at it; it was an old volume, with no title visible on spine or front cover.  I moved to return it to the shelf as usual but pulled it back out instead.  I had a sudden curiosity as to the book's title.  I opened the cover, intent on discovering the title of this particular book even as I recognized the triviality and foolishness of my desire.  I persisted, though, and turned the beginning pages - and had one of those gasping moments when suddenly everything around you fades away.

The book whose title I'd felt such urgency to discover was The Cat who Went to Heaven, by Elizabeth Coatsworth. 

I stared at the title page, and was surrounded by the deepest peace I've ever known.  I had received the guidance I sought, and my heart was untroubled and light once more.

The Roman Catholic church hierarchy would disagree with me, I am sure, but I believe that sometimes our best guidance comes not from a dogmatic authority figure but from Loving Creator Godself, directly to us. And when that guidance comes, I believe that we can trust it. 

January 22

Today is the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, the ruling that legalized abortion in the US.

I remember the discussions in religion class about abortion.  Discussing whether abortion was moral was NOT the focus; discussing WHEN it was moral was the focus.

I'm reminded of that today.  In the years since Roe v. Wade, the anti-abortion people have increasingly framed their argument on the black-and-white foundation: abortion is wrong, that's all there is to it, and therefore it should not be available.  Period.

Relatively few things in life are that clear-cut.  We can agree that killing is wrong, but how many situations are there in which it is not only proper but even heroic? 

Much of the opposition to abortion comes from the right-wing Christian Evangelical base.  Because their interpretation of the Bible says abortion is wrong, it is wrong and therefore should not be available.  Period.

These are the same people who would be up in arms if our Jewish friends, who believe that eating pork is wrong, demanded pork be removed from store shelves. 

I believe that these abortion foes are utterly sincere in their belief; I was one of them for many years and still believe that abortion would likely be the wrong choice if I were in that predicament. 

But I'm not.  And for me to tell another woman that she MUST bring a pregnancy to term would be as wrong as forcing everybody to become Christian. 

There's a hypocrisy in the Evangelical opposition to abortion that the right-wing conveniently overlooks.  Many evangelical Christians belive that drinking alcohol or getting a divorce is sinful.  Where is the outcry to pass laws making alcohol and divorce unavailable?

There is none.  Instead of insisting no one have access to alcohol or divorce, they simply teach their beliefs and urge their followers to uphold them. 

I believe the same approach to abortion - teach that it is wrong within your church or home, but allow women to make their own choices - is the better way.  In my opinion, it is the more Christian way.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.Phil. 4:13

 Ever have one of 'those' days?  A day when you are tired or ill, aching or in pain?  Maybe it's a day when you simply cannot face going to a job you dislike, or perhaps a job where your co-workers are unfriendly.  Maybe it's a day when the endless parade of creditors' calls are simply more than you can stand. 

 

Whatever the provocation, we've all experienced a time in which the dawn of a new day seemed not like a fresh round of opportunity, blessing, an fulfillment but like another endurance trial.  Challenges come to us all, but sometimes they pile up like jets over the runway - and we want to run, to hide, to do anything to get relief.

 

The world offers a lot of quick fixes - whether it's a shopping spree, alcohol, drugs, food, a day at the casino, whatever.  All these 'fixes' have a catch, though, like so many of the world's pleasures.  After the high has worn off, the same problems are waiting for you.  Often the fix creates new problems, which make your temporary 'relief' a new problem in itself. 

 

Those of us who profess a vibrant faith - or even a weak one - have an advantage on such days.  We can turn to Christ, we can give over all the troubles that keep us awake at night.  He upholds us through our trials and brings us to safety and wholeness.  Even in the midst of them, we can find peace simply by acknowledging his loving presence with us.  Something as simple as repeating the verse above or invoking the name of Jesus like a mantra can bring us back to center, and from there, strengthened, we can go on.  

 

This is a verse that has helped millions through trials of all kinds and continues to encourage Christians daily.  May this short verse be a blessing to you in your own difficulties.  

 

 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
     so great is his love for those who fear him;
  as far as the east is from the west,
     so far has he removed our transgressions from us. 

                                                                               Psalm 103:11-12

Some people say that Christians who focus on Love are missing the boat theologically.   They point to verses which depict God's anger at our transgressions.  It's very true that such verses are right there in scripture.  Why do I and others skip over them as human error that has crept into the Bible?  
                                                                                                                                 Personally, verses that are not in keeping with the teachings of Jesus, I regard as humanly inspired.  If God sent his Son to save us, to teach us...why wouldn't we give the teachings of Jesus first place?  

This verse is, I believe, a beautiful depiction of the boundless love Creator offers each of us, a love that no fault or sin of ours can destroy, a truly unconditional love.  

Glossing over the love of God to focus on our transgressions is where we make our mistake.  I suspect it is only when we come to a deeper realization of that endless love that we are able to begin, finally, to appreciate the teachings of Christ.  

As long as we focus on wrongdoing and wrath and condemnation, we are out of step with Jesus, who condemned only those who focused on...wrongdoing and wrath and condemnaton.   

"A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."  John 13:34-35   

Seems clear enough.

Trust in the LORD and do good;
     dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.
     Delight yourself in the LORD
     and he will give you the desires of your heart. 

                                                                                             Psalm 37:3-4

It's easy to glance at this verse and dismiss it as a feel-good sop for fearful Christians.  It offers us a deeper truth, however, one which can transform our lives.

If we do trust God, if we actually delight in the Lord, our lives will reflect it.  We will do good because we will delight in good works.  We will be transformed and, yes, we will receive the desires of our hearts.

In discussing this, I remember a woman who protested, "But we won't want the same things!" She's right.  When we are transformed, our desires are transformed, too.  How could it be otherwise?  

For her, this was a major problem.  She wanted what she wanted at that moment.  She was willing to be transformed, but she wanted the assurance that God would give her the Malibu beachfront home which was her dream.  The thought that she might not want that home if she gave herself up to God was a deal-breaker. 

What's your deal-breaker?  What hearts-desires are you unwilling to trust in God's hands? 

 

Tuesday, January 15

A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.
                                                                                                                                    John 13:34, 35 

To me, this is the bottom line of Christianity: love one another.  If we won't do that, we're just Pharisees taking the easy way out.  

Easy?  With all those laws and dogmatic rules?  

Jesus tells us to love others as we love ourselves, to go the extra mile, to share what we have with the poor, to forgive those who hurt us.  Jesus tells us to care for those we might prefer to ignore, to welcome those we want to turn away, to embrace those we wish to reject. 

Yes, I think it's a lot easier to follow rules than to follow Jesus's law of love.  Being Christian is not for sissies!

Abundant Life

 
 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.  The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector.  I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’
“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
  “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

                                                                                                                                      Luke 18:9-14

Now that I'm able to get into the blog, my task is to get back into the habit of writing.  Patience appreciated!

This morning during my reading, the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector leapt out at me.  Anyone reading the news is aware that there are a lot of Pharisees out there, religious leaders ready to proclaim that only they have the correct teachings, that everyone else is somehow not Christian at all. 

What struck me about this familiar parable was the description of the Pharisee as someone confident of  his own righteousness and who looked down on everyone else.  Although the Pharisee fasted and tithed and obeyed the laws - it was not enough.  And although it is not mentioned in the text, I am struck by the degree of judgment displayed by the Pharisee.

We talk about humility in the church, and many of those Pharisees out there are quick to say they are sinners. I wonder, though, if in so doing they are simply complying with the letter of the law, so to speak.  What strikes me is that pride and judgment go hand in hand. 

It's hard not to judge, as we are called to judge constantly in life.  We must judge whether a teacher's words are in keeping with what we understand to be the teachings of Christ; we are called to do that by Jesus himself. 

It seems to me that the key is Love.  The Pharisee's problem was that he regarded others through eyes of condemnation, not eyes of love.  We MUST reject teachings that are incompatible with Love, teachings that do not place love above the law, as Christ did.  In so doing, though, we must be on guard against our human tendency to reject those who follow such teachings. 

That's that hard part, isn't it! 

Whew!

 And when she has found it, she calls her friends and neighbors together, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the piece which I lost!’ Luke 15:9

Readers may remember this verse from the parable of the Lost Coin. It's appropriate!  After I wrote last, I had another bout of ill health, and when I was feeling better, tried to log on - and couldn't!  Weeks of searching the same files, the same notebooks followed - to no avail. Finally, today - I have it, and so we begin again.  

The weeks of inability to post have been interesting.  I've missed writing, even though I have no idea that anyone is actually reading this.  I trust that whoever can be blessed by it will find it at the proper time.  That part of it is out of my hands, and that's ok by me.

The repeated searches have prompted me to  begin what I've long been meaning to do: organize.  Organization comes naturally to many people; clearly, I am not one of them.  Finding ways to organize my materials and information more effectively has been challenging, not that I've completed the task.  If I made New Year's resolutions, this would be a good one.  

The verse I chose for today was a bit tongue-in-cheek, given my long predicament, but not entirely so.  The idea of lost and found is both familiar and profound.  We often claim to have lost things, though usually we've only mislaid them.  I sometimes wonder if anything is really 'lost.'

We take a wrong turn when traveling and get lost; yet we eventually get to our destination.  Our loved ones pass on, losing their lives so to speak - only they live on in spirit in a life far more joyful and glorious than earthly life could hope to be.  We lose our faith - or so we think.

I am not so sure that anyone loses their faith.  I know people who discount faith, preferring the theories of science to those of theology.  I know people who have faltered in their faith, rendered doubtful by the enormity of their pain.  I know people who reject faith, angered by the injustices they observe around them - injustices a loving God would not allow, they reason.  

But lose faith?  Does anyone wake up one day simply to realize that - the faith of yesterday has left?  I doubt that.  In my experience, faith never deserts us.  We may look the other way, we may mislay it in unrelated events and circumstances, we may furiously cast it aside - but those are very different situations.  Faith doesn't evaporate. Like God, it is with us always.  We have only to recognize it, then, like the widow, we too may rejoice.