Who Deserves a Break Today?

There is a poem by Robert Burns entitled "To a Louse" that reminds me of something enduring about the human condition. When admiring an elegantly dressed and confident young woman at church, Burns observes a louse crawling into her beautifully coiffured hairdo. He writes: "O, the gift the Gifties give us, to see ourselves as others see us." Frequently we humans get so focused on the offending actions of others and what we judge to be their irritating traits that we become blind to our own unkindness and insensitivity.

Ironically enough, we seem to act out most often, and be least aware of it, when: (1) the other person appears to have less power than we do, for whatever reason (children, students, minorities, employees we outrank, service providers, etc.); (2) when the other person doesn't confront us with our action, but forgives us (or doesn't) silently in the privacy of their hearts; and/or (3) when nobody's watching.

I find it much easier to give others a break when reflecting on the mercy that other people have shown, and continue to show, me -- whether or not I "deserve" it. These reflections remind me that life is a gift and fill me with a sense of grace and gratitude.

What about you? Where do your reflections take you? Where do you live in your everyday thoughts?

O Shame, Where is Your Sting?

"Children are made readers on the laps of their parents," notes literary artist and publisher Emilie Buchwald (Famous Literary Quotes, 2005). Educational experts agree: parents who read to their children help them become better readers and students. According to the Reading Foundation (2002): "Even parents who cannot read well for themselves can provide a good experience for their children by telling stories from their lives, from their imaginations or pictures in wordless books. It is best to read to your children early and often, but it is never too late to start in any language."

Reading and righting -- Since this is a blog on Forgiveness, what does reading have to do with forgiveness? Well, just as there is a correlation between illiterate parents and children with reading difficulties, there may also be one between unforgiving parents and unforgiving children. What do you think? My guess is yes.

I have learned how to forgive in part from my mother. Not only did she pardon my brothers, my sister and me (for our various fights and foibles over the years), she asked for our forgiveness as well. Then she changed her behavior as best she could. When I was a little girl (around five years old), she slapped me in the face. I don't remember it being hard, but I do remember that immediately afterwards she told me that she had done something wrong by hitting me on the face, asked my forgiveness and said she would never do it again. And she never did.

Ridiculous wisdom -- My mother's legacy to me was not in dollars but in sense. And even today, 30 years after her death, I still learn more about the process and precious gift of forgiveness by reflecting upon her example. For one thing, Mom had a gift for seeing the ridiculous in the ridicule in life. When I was growing up, our church published an annual account of the monetary contributions of all families in our parish in the Sunday bulletin, intending (perhaps) to reward the "good" donors and shame the "bad" ones. With four children (aged 10 and under)subsisting on Dad's salary as a proofreader, our family landed squarely in the lower range of the list. Instead of getting angry or ashamed, my mother considered the practice so nuts that she found it hilarious. In fact, we sat around talking and laughing about it for hours -- to the point that I could hardly wait for next year's list to be published.

"O death, where is your sting? O death, where is your victory?" St. Paul asks in 1 Corinthians (15:55), speaking on the impact of Christ's Resurrection from the dead. My mother's response to the annual donation list transformed a potentially painful situation into a deliciously subversive way to look at (and laugh at) the pretensions in life: O Shame, where is your sting?

What legacy of forgiveness have your parents given to you?.... What legacy are you leaving to your children?....

A Room with a View

The imagination is an amazing vehicle. I call mine a flying carpet, and it takes me all over the world to different times and places. Today, we go to Jesus Christ, an hour before his last meal with his friends just outside the Old City of Jerusalem in what is called the "Upper Room."

What was he thinking? Feeling? Imagining? I don't know about you, but if I was going to undergo an excruciating execution tomorrow, I wouldn't feel much like having a meal with friends tonight -- especially if I knew that one of those "close" friends of mine was going to betray me, and the rest would pretend they didn't know me once I got captured. And if I did share a meal with my so-called pals the night before my death, you can bet they'd get an earful! You wouldn't see me washing their feet, or offering myself up for their benefit.

This depth of forgiveness goes far beyond where my imagination has ever taken me. Even now. Sometimes I think it is easier to forgive one's foes than one's friends....Foes can steal many things from us, but they can't steal our trust -- because we never trusted them in the first place.

It seems that Jesus had no illusions. He trusted his friends to be human; but he didn't count on them to save him or look to them for approval. In that, forgiveness became his pre-emptive strike of complete acceptance and love. Christ forgave his friends in advance of what he knew they were going to do. And in his unconditional decision to forgive, Christ showed his utter freedom and transformed the last meager meal of a "dead man walking" into the eternal banquet of the Lord's Supper.

Amazing grace. I can't forgive that way, to that absolute extent. But I can, at least, imagine myself as one of the disciples in that Upper Room -- maybe Peter, who protests when Christ goes to wash his feet....Maybe I can be Peter, and just let Christ wash my feet. And in this experience of being forgiven, perhaps I will discover that I too can forgive with a pure and reckless heart.

The Third Man

Remember the great movie "The Third Man"? Graham Greene wrote the screenplay and Carol Reed directed this classic more than half a century ago (and if you haven't seen it yet, you have a treat in store). Holly Martins, a writer of cheap Western novels, comes to Vienna after World War II at the invitation of his friend Harry Lime. Upon his arrival, Martins learns that Lime has tragically died in a car accident, and decides to investigate. The mystery of the movie centers on discovering the identity of the unseen person who helped remove Harry Lime's body. This is the "Third Man."

The terminator -- That story comes to my mind today as I reflect on my struggles in forgiving a particular gentleman. Ironically, he's not someone I see often or talk with frequently, or even someone who wronged me greatly. I worked with others on a team project years ago -- a gratifying and fruitful experience for all of us and for those we served. He used his power to dismantle a program that was helping many, and in its place, put a substitute that has gained a reputation for boring mediocrity....Several of us on the team shared our concerns with him on certain core issues; and he took our forthrightness as a personal attack.

The same old story....No doubt that this gentleman's recollection of the situation would be much different than my own; and it too would have its own measure of truth. How is it -- or is it -- possible for two people who stay separate on either side of the fence to see things from the same perspective? When Robert Frost wrote, "There's something here that does not want a wall," maybe this is what he meant.

Now, I've forgiven, and been forgiven by, a number of people in my life for various and sundry actions (and inaction)....And this particular situation would not, in any way, rank at the top of my "too terrible to be forgiven list" (assuming I had a list, which I don't). So what has been blocking me?

Missing in action -- I talked with a trusted friend about this today. As my spiritual director/companion, she helped me take a hard (and soft) look at my struggle to forgive this gentleman. What I experienced caught me off-guard, and brought me back to the intense feelings of rejection I had experienced with my Dad -- feelings I believed that I had long since come to terms with. And even though I meant to focus on the leader who had dismantled our team, his actions quickly become irrelevant to the true matter at hand, and I saw what was holding me back from forgiving him: he had become a phantom stand-in for issues I had not completely resolved with my father.

My Dad has been on the other side of the grave for some years now, and it's actually easier to enjoy a loving relationship with him "up in heaven" than it was down on Earth. Yet with this other gentleman (who is very much still on Earth), I am becoming more aware of his gift rather than the grievance. In dealing with this issue, I am able to see him and all of my life, in a truer, more lifegiving perspective.

Forgiveness freedom....I've found a gift in my inability to forgive: it motivated me to find the real source of my woundedness and ask God to heal it. In discovering the identity of the "third man," I've been freed from illusions and resentments that no longer have the power to wound me.

Who is your third man? Do you have one too? If not, great! If so, what would it give you to find out his/her secret identity?

FORGIVENESS FREEDOM is a blog devoted to exploring effective ways to understand conflict, and restore & reinforce positive connections.