(This post is part of an ongoing series about the JTN manifesto. To learn more, click here.)
Some of you know that my journey into nonviolence this past year landed me squarely in need of greater silence and solitude. I took several months this past summer to focus more intently on the works of peace and to journal and explore my own thoughts, feelings, reactions, and prayers on the subject.
What is less commonly known is how pointedly I knew that would also be an intentional journey into forgiveness.
My conscious journey toward grace, love, and freedom over the past ten years has primarily focused on inner healing. It has been a discovery of God’s lavish love. And in that context, I also came in contact with God’s heart for justice. I found him to be a God who comforts the afflicted and soothes what is bandaged and broken in us at the hands of others.
This was a beautiful, needed journey, and it will always be precious to me.
But over time, other thoughts began to tug at me. These were thoughts about forgiveness. Thoughts about the implications of God’s radical grace and love.
Questions kept bubbling to the surface that would not go away:
“What does it mean to forgive, as God asks me to forgive?”
Or:
“How do I hold God’s love for so-and-so alongside God’s love for me?”
Or:
“If I forgive them, what will my story be anymore?”
These were troubling questions. I wanted to ignore them, and I did … for several years. I kept clinging to God’s tender love for my sore places. I knew that his love for me in those places was true.
But still.
There existed a tension between God’s love for me and his ability to forgive those who had hurt me. I was so aware I didn’t have that God-like ability in me yet.
As I approached this past summer, I knew it was time.
I knew going deeper into a lifestyle of nonviolence — if, indeed, I was going to embrace that ethic — meant addressing my own violence of heart, and that included (among other things) my own anger and unforgiveness.
I just didn’t know what that meant or looked like.
I was grateful for the extended time of reflection the summer was going to afford me. I needed expansive space to hold those big, hard questions without noise or distraction.
I’ll be writing about this long forgiveness journey I took in greater detail at another time.
For now, I wanted to share the truth I’ve learned through all of this that living at peace with our fellow man in a truly nonviolent way means facing our demons of unforgiveness.
It means embracing forgiveness as a way of life.
It even means opening ourselves to the restorative, blow-your-mind creativity of reconciliation.
I can’t wait to share that story with you. But in the meantime, what about you:
How have you walked (or avoided) the path of forgiveness and reconciliation in your own life’s journey?
Christianne
This post really started me thinking about some things in my life. I wonder what does forgiveness look like? Just tonight I was on the phone with Nathan and we were laughing about a situation that I went through a few yrs ago. And I can genuinely laugh about it now but at the time it was very painful.
It was not a pain like someone I loved hurt me. That is a HORRIBLE pain. No, this was someone whom I found myself (through circumstance) at the mercy of. And when I was talking to Nathan I felt that eek inside like, I really dislike old so-n-so.
I said, “you know, I don’t know if I have ever encountered someone so boastfully evil.” And Christianne I am not even saying it out of a spewing out venom sort of remark. It is like I distance myself from saying that out of hatred for the person (yet I still would not buddy up with them). I don’t know if this will make sense to you. It sounds like I am talking from a double tongue. When I say the person is evil, I am more meaning it as an observation from what I saw from the person.
I am not even speaking from the perspective of the things they did to me, but what I witnessed them do to others and stand before me and laugh about it……….it was sinister. I am not justifying that my thinking is correct at all. I guess what I am questioning is what does forgiveness look like?
I saw this lady years later after some instances occurred and I hugged her. I also know without a doubt if she stood before me needing something that I would help her. But, I am not sure that is forgiving her. I still hold those memories when I think of them and I still see this person as evil in my mind.
However, if the truth be told when I examine the circumstance I see myself as much at fault as I was accusing her to be. On the surface I looked like a victim and she looked like the perpetrator. But the truth is, I held a large weight of the guilt in the matter. The major difference was that I did not purposely withhold mercy from her as she did to me.
That was the only difference, but honestly, a lot of what happened could have been avoided if I had of possessed the maturity necessary to avoid conflict. In other words, I brought a lot of her “no mercy” upon myself.
It is weird, but even in writing this, I see more of why I was a fault and I see more proof in my reflection that this woman had some goodness in her. But, even still it does not answer my questioning, “have I truly forgiven this woman?” I don’t have the answer to that.
I deeply fear (spiritually speaking) getting bitter. It kills. Someone said to me once, “it is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” I thought that was a very powerful illustration. To prevent this, I pray for the people who have hurt me and I don’t allow my mind to go there. I don’t dwell on it. I push it out of my mind. But, again I don’t know if that is real forgiveness.
This living an examined life is tough. It is not for the faint of heart I can tell ya. Here I have written an epistle on your blog. Tammy Chapters 1-5.
Tammy, you ask a lot of good questions. That is something I really value about you: your ability to ask questions of real-life situations you face. You are a reflective individual, and your reflections add so much value and insight to those you touch!
It sounds like you are carrying the tension between truth-telling and love, mixed in with a dose of forgiveness.
The fact that you can hug this woman and find it within yourself to give her something she needs if she stood before you tells me you have a capacity for love toward her.
But I also hear you saying that you recognize in her the potential for great harm still (ie, that she hasn’t changed). I’m inclined to think that truth-telling about someone is separate from our need to forgive them. It’s linked in the sense that we acknowledge what they are doing is wrong and hurtful, and that gives us an opportunity to love and forgive them. But it’s separate in the sense that forgiveness from us can be present even if the person hasn’t acknowledged the wrongdoing and hasn’t changed.
I’m not sure if what I’m saying speaks to what you were ultimately getting at … it sounds like later in your comment you began wrestling with your own part to play in the situation … but these are some of the thoughts that your comment prompted in me. I’m looking forward to exploring the subject of forgiveness together more intently in future posts.
This is hard one. Forgiveness is difficult because by its very nature, it implies an offense, a wounding, a damaged and hurting soul. These sorts of things are not to be taken lightly.
If I didn’t have faith, I honestly don’t know what “forgiveness” would mean or even look like. It seems like it would be more of distancing myself from the trauma to my psyche, rather than regarding my own sinful state and knowing, in an intimate, deep-down kind of way that at one point or another, we all need forgiveness and none of us really deserves it.
But forgiveness is not about merit. And as a Christian, it comes to the point of facing that understanding: I forgive, because I’ve been forgiven. I forgive, because if I don’t, then it’s an eye for an eye, which (as Gandhi so wisely said) makes the whole world blind.
It was (and is, to a degree) so hard for me to get over the idea that forgiveness is not a feeling, and it’s not permitting the one who offended you to yes, please do that again. Rather, it is a choice that needs to be made repeatedly, and I know it can take great strength of will to overcome the feelings that cause us to resist it. I can easily drum up a few offenses in my memory and I still smart from the wounds that were inflicted. I have to let go each and every time.
And I can’t help but think about the Our Father:
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
We’re praying for equal measure there.
And I also think of Colossians 3, and the injunction to forgive as the Lord forgave you. My offense was infinite, and so was the forgiveness extended me.
I can’t write this and pretend that any of this is easy. But the truth is this: the one who has committed the offense may not deserve forgiveness. However, as one who has received such boundless grace and mercy, who am I to withhold it? I am not sure I have that right.
My friend,
I know this is a subject you know very well, from conversations we’ve shared in the past. I have to say, I honor in you the ongoing practice you carry toward forgiveness … the ongoing letting go you are willing to embody as the wounds rise to the surface and smart at chance moments.
Truth be told, I didn’t know how to hold forgiveness at all in my journey. I think most of the time I mentally assented to it because I knew I needed to, and I just kept praying that God would help me understand what it really means. But I didn’t consciously choose it like you have shared here that you do.
That made my journey long, and perhaps it made it wrong. I don’t know. But I am thankful for God’s longsuffering with me … he has helped me reach a place where I finally embrace it, want it, choose it, and with gladness. It’s been kind of a weird way to get here, but I’m glad I finally have.
I have to not only forgive a person, but an institution. It has taken 3 years, but I think I am getting there.
For many years I have grown up with this ministry in my house and life and I highly admired them. When I first sensed a call into ministry I looked to them for a job. It took a year to get it, and 30 days for them to fire me. I did not know quite why until a former co-worker suffered a similar fate and wanted to come to work for me. It reopened a wound because not only was it not “on the level” it was down right nasty and based on heresy and the words of one person who apparently did not like me much. Once the ministry knew about why, they did nothing, and I mean nothing, to correct it.
For the first few months a mention of the name would make me sick literally. I lost a well paying job, had to take a lesser paying job (by about 40 percent, OOUCH) and have being fired on my record.
I carried it around for 3 years and knew recently that it was time to forgive. I am getting there, I still pick that old bag up once in awhile and try to relive it and I have to cut the strings fresh. I am always better when I do.
Ouch, Carl. It hurt to read your story, knowing you’ve lived this and keep living it in real life, and knowing you are my friend.
I’m so sorry that happened to you. I can imagine the feelings of injustice have run strong, and the crying out to God for comfort and acknowledgment of the injustice has been like a wailing at times. It’s so good to know we have a God who sees and knows the truth of all these things, and who loves us in the most hurt places inside of us.
It’s neat to hear a bit of the journey for you … that recently you’ve been feeling that same tug toward forgiveness. I remember when the tugs first started coming at me, I pushed them away! I just didn’t know how to do it or where to start or what could be lost in the process.
But one thing I’ve learned is that God’s work is restless in us until it reaches completion. So my hope for you is great … he is about a work in you concerning this, and I sense that it will get easier over time to leave that bag sitting on the ground, and perhaps eventually for good.
Glad to be journeying with you in these things, my friend. Thank you for sharing your story.
I really relate to the question: “If I forgive them, what will my story be anymore?”
I used to invalidate a lot of the emotional responses I had to painful experiences in my life. I didn’t love myself and didn’t believe I had legitimate reasons for feeling hurt. I’ve come a long way since then, and am much better at validating my feelings and trusting the responses I have to experiences in my life.
I have found, however, that this sense of personal validation and vindication can sometimes go too far. Now it’s hard for me to let go of the feelings I’ve come to embrace, including anger and bitterness. It feels good to be “in the right” and another “in the wrong.”
To let go of being “right” feels like letting go of a part of my story, a part of myself, that I’ve come to value.
It also feels empowering to believe that another person has hurt you and that they did something wrong. I want to learn to validate my emotions, even painful ones, but not feel the need to nurse the power I feel when my pain is justified.
Tammy, thanks for sharing that image of bitterness being like poison. Thinking of it the way you described is helpful to me.
I hear you, Katy. What you describe is very similar to the things I thought and felt through my own process.
What you are describing about validating your feelings and knowing when something that happened to you was wrong makes me think that you’ve been leaning into love and justice. Learning to validate our feelings is related to self-worth and value, I think … so you’ve been coming to know what you feel and think is valuable, which it is, and that is part of learning to receive love. The part about feeling rightness and wrongness so strongly is the development of an inner compass for justice, which is also an important part of the process of our growth.
I have hope for you in this place, simply out of the outgrowth of my own journey. Not to impose my own journey on you at all, but I guess I’m saying that sitting in the “love and justice” place for a while seemed to be an important part of my growth. I needed to really learn those things, learn that these were an integral part of God’s heart in the world and toward me personally, and it slowly developed an inner strength in me. Eventually, these truths become so rooted in who we are that — in a very mysterious way — we begin to be willing to forgive. It’s strange, the way that happens, but my experience has been that it eventually does.
I don’t know how to answer this without sharing my entire life story, but in a nutshell, I feel like the crux of my journey in this life has been about finding peace, forgiveness and reconciliation with each of my parents and beyond that with my husband and his two grown kids. Each story is unique and the ultimate outcome of each is very different, but they have all been about learning how to let go and accept what IS.
Wow, Swirly, it sounds like there are a lot of stories there for you. I can imagine all the threads are complex and interwoven in some ways, too, the way our stories always are.
Just so you know, I’m pretty sure I would find your entire life story fascinating. Especially if it concerns a journey toward peace, forgiveness, and reconciliation.
I appreciate your depth of soul and willingness to examine hard things, in order to find the beauty underneath.
Thank you Christianne!