Unwrap the Bindings

I have noticed that spiritual people can have a tendency to over spiritualize everything in life, as though somehow every act came straight from the hand of God. I am not speaking of those who see the hand of God in events, but rather to those who exclude the human element of life, the human struggle, the human dimension. And when we do that, we forget the human effort needed to rise above human tendency.

Easter is just one sort of event. Christians all believe that Jesus rose from the dead, a day glorious and offering profound hope of immortality. What we often forget is, Jesus too, as a human being, had a choice. Jesus rose because he could follow through with his calling, he could let go of the past and move forward to his destiny, he could unwrap the bindings that held him and step forth into the light.

Think for a moment of what might have happened had Jesus held on to the pain and suffering he endured. What if Jesus could not let go of his suffering and humiliation? What if he had gotten "stuck" in the memory of what had happened and could not move past that?

It is unimaginable to think of Jesus stuck in death. And yet, that is how I sometimes live; stuck in a bad memory, in anger and resentment. Stuck in my bad luck, bad choices, unfortunate incidents.

What good is it to believe in resurrection, in eternal life, if I cannot rise above events here on earth? What good is it to hope for heaven when I live life as though in a tomb? For when I am stuck, I cannot hear the call to come forth. I am, spiritually stuck in death.

Jesus showed us the power of letting go when he stepped out of the tomb and into the light. He showed us the power of dropping our bindings and moving our sealed stone that keeps us imprisoned. He opened the sealed compartment of his tomb not by force, but by grace. Such is the power of letting go.

Jesus invites me to do the same. Easter is a reminder that eternal life starts here on earth, that rising begins with daily events, that each of us has a tomb requiring resurrection. Easter is a symbol for each one of us to come forth from the tomb of disappointments, disillusionment, judgements and resentments. I am called to live a resurrected life, to unwrap whatever binds me and holds me prisoner. I am called to grace, a grace that can perform powerful acts of God within my life, if I let go.

Let us each live resurrected, here and now, so that we witness to the power of believing.

Signs that carry Divinity

On this Holy Thursday, we cannot help but think of signs.  Give us a sign they would ask of Jesus (Mt 12:38). Don’t we all ask that of God at one time or another? Don’t we all want some sign of God's care? 

If we read the gospels carefully, we will see that we are our own signs of God. And I believe one way we are that sign is through the act of forgiving. As Jesus told his disciples, we are not to forgive “seven times seven, but seventy times seven” (Mt 18: 22). And anyone who has ever been hurt or betrayed knows how hard it is to forgive.

I think forgiveness is a sign of the Divine Presence because it requires great faith. In effect it says, I have come to terms with my own vulnerability. I have accepted my limitations, I have acknowledged my own mess ups. When I have accepted my human condition, I will not be afraid to accept the limitations of others.

For are we not afraid of vulnerability? And is that not what forgiveness is all about? 

When I face this truth, I am able to give to others that which is given to me. I offer faith in a Divine Being because I am able to acknowledges that when we are frail, we must turn to hope and faith. We must not be afraid of vulnerability. Forgiveness is an act that rejects the notion that I am secure. It rejects the fallacy that it is possible to be perfect.

Psychologists and counselors tell us, forgiveness is not only good, but necessary for our mental health. Jesus would tell us, forgiveness is good for our peace of mind. It is good for our soul. It is good for our hearts. To forgive is to acknowledge my own human status. It is to accept that I am not the only one who does not get it right all the time. It is to have the gentle heart and the open eyes that say, yea, we are all in this together.

So let us go forward. Let us be signs of God. 

Refusing to harm myself

Forgiveness brings tranquility to the soul

It was quite interesting to find an article on forgiveness in a non-religious magazine. In fact, it was in Counseling Today, the ACA magazine for licensed, professional, clinical counselors. The article was so interesting that I'd like to quote a couple lines here:

What stands between many clients and a happy life is the often-elusive process of forgiveness.

Blockages people struggle with in their lives were linked to some sort of issue for which they needed to forgive someone.

Forgiveness isn't about the other person or about making someone else apologize or change--it is about setting yourself free.

Not forgiving creates an emotional prison, ties you to a person or an event that usually you would rather forget but are unable to.

I could go on. But I think the above quotes demonstrates quite well that forgiveness is about me, not about the other person. For when I failed to forgive, I become the prisoner, chained to the person or event I will not let go. Refusing to forgive keeps me very small, and small means many things: bitter, resentful, jealous, angry, hateful, stuck.

When Jesus said, forgive others as you want God to forgive you, he was in effect trying to remind me to keep balanced. Just as I do things that need forgiving, so too do others. Do not expect them to be something I cannot be.

Finding an article on forgiveness in a counseling magazine shows just how far reaching resentments can go. I do so much harm to myself when I refuse to forgive.

So the next time someone hurts or offends me, maybe my question should be, "Do I want to punish and damage myself over this?" If the answer is no, then it is time to let go.

Begin a new year...

I have a fascination with the concept of forgiveness, not as a bystander, but as one who actively works with Jesus' command to "forgive, and you will be forgiven" (Lk 6:37). I know no individual who has not been injured in some way. Injuries give us two choices, to remain angry and resentful, or to forgive

I, too, sometimes struggle with the concept of forgiveness. If God is a just God, should not someone pay for making us suffer? All the more when we are weak and vulnerable and are preyed upon by the powerful with authority. And yet, the precept to forgive is always there in front of me. Even when I think I have come to terms with those who have harmed me, I find that the forgiveness once proffered sometimes threatens to retreat. Anger is always waiting in the wings to take over.

As a counselor in training, I know the clinical benefits of forgiveness. Studies have proven that anger is destructive to one's own body, as it not only eats away at the heart and soul, it damages the mind, hardens the blood vessels, prevents tissue reproduction, weakens the immune system and wreaks havoc on one's emotional health.

In contrast, forgiveness offers better emotional health. It allows for physical healing, frees the spirit from the memory of the trauma or injury and allows it to grow past the incident. Forgiveness broadens the mind and lifts the spirit. Forgiveness tempers and matures an individual, brings him or her to a deeper understanding of human weakness. Forgiveness enlarges our soul, so that we are bigger than the incident, and we are not held back by it.

In a word, forgiveness is the stepping stone out of the cave of darkness and sorrow. Forgiveness is necessary for good emotional health. But I believe it cannot be done for purely health reasons. One must believe in something redemptive to be able to forgive. One must believe in a bigger plan, a redemptive power of God that brings good even out of evil. One must believe in a power that is above and beyond our imaginations.

And so I close these thoughts with words given to me many years ago, words meant to help me in my own struggle to forgive: For those who love God, all things work together for good (Romans 8:28).

Shaking the dust from my sandals

The emotions were spawned by a Youtube clip of monks. As I watched them describe their life within the monastery, and attribute their union with God to their monastic silence, I felt they were being a bit "coy". When I realized this, I took a soul-check and saw that I still have a little anger toward the established monastic communities for their lack of understanding of me years ago. And as I thought about this, I became amazed that there is still, after all of these years, a vestige of anger inside of me.

That brought to mind a scripture passage about Jesus telling his disciples to "shake the dust from your sandals" (Mt 10:14) whenever they were in a house that would not accept them. Perhaps Jesus was not telling them to do so in contempt or disgust (as I always assumed) or even in some sense of righteousness. Maybe Jesus told his disciples this because he was trying to tell them, rejection is hard, and the results (anger) will cling to you like dust. You cannot just walk it off. You have to take off your sandals and shake them, which could mean to imply becoming humble before your own soul, and then consciously letting go (though shaking seems to imply more than just letting go...more like "struggle").

Yes, I think anger is like dust that clings. It certainly can obscure vision. Like sand it can irritate, and like sand it can creep into everything.

And so, again, I take off my sandals and shake off the dust. I will probably have to do so many times before I am free.

Letting another be human

Forgiveness moves us, like seeing the first flowers of spring

Of all the Christian virtues that are difficult to practice, I think forgiveness is probably the hardest. As the mark of the Christian, it is deep, symbolic, and telling.

The gospels have several stories on forgiveness, probably the most succinct and direct being the "Our Father." Forgive us, as we forgive those who sin against us. In the monastic life, it was often pointed out to me that this prayer says, in effect: God look at me. And as I forgive or do not forgive, that is how I want you to treat me.

But I think it is more. I think forgiveness says I accept my vulnerability. I acknowledge my mess up. I see that I am not perfect, and so will not expect another to be what I am not. It is me saying, okay, you offended me, hurt me, abused me. But I will not set that act in stone. Just as I do not always do the right thing, I will give you to freedom to be human and imperfect as well. I will see this for what it is...human frailty.

I think failure to forgive is telling. I think it means I have not accepted my own vulnerability, and so cannot accept the vulnerability of another. It says I am not secure. It says I am still clinging to the fallacy that it is possible to be perfect.

Psychologists and counselors will tell you, forgiveness is not only good, but necessary for your mental health. Jesus would tell you, forgiveness is good for your peace of mind. It is good for your soul. It is good for your heart. To forgive is to acknowledge your own human status. It is to accept that I am not the only one who does not get it right all the time. It is to have the gentle heart and the open eyes that says, yea, we are all in this together.