It is an unfortunate truth that happiness and good fortune rarely deepen us spiritually. It is when we run into unbearable grief and loss we are unprepared for that we are stripped of our vanity and our pride and begin to see, rock-bottom, what is really important to us. These occasions are what I call "leveling experiences" because they let us know that we, along with all human beings, are mortal and vulnerable. At these times so much of our anger and hard-heartedness seems petty, for we come to understand that all human beings suffer immeasurably as they journey through life, and we join them as fellow sufferers on the path. We gain a measure of humility, we become more compassionate and more forgiving.
Profound spiritual lessons can come from those who provoke us the most. People we can hardly bear to be around, the ones who "hook" us emotionally, are the ones who carry our unconscious stuff around, bringing it uncomfortably close to the surface. We want to run, not walk, in the other direction. But we find we are looking in a mirror of sorts. We are led to ask ourselves, "What part of my shadow is this person asking me to uncover and examine?" These individuals are the ones who can stretch us the most, spiritually speaking.
We also grow in our ability to forgive as we reflect upon the circumstances of our own lives. We realize that even our best-intentioned, most spirit-led decisions have the capacity to hurt others, including those we love. We have made mistakes, misjudgments, careless errors, perhaps, that have led to pain for others or even tragic consequences. In fact, there is no way for even the best intentioned, most moral individual to go through a life without hurting others. So each of us has to live with the consequences of our own inevitable harming of others, even when we would do only good -- never mind when we have been motivated by less than noble motives. This understanding helps us forgive those who have, for whatever reason, known or unknown, caused us to suffer. We, too, have caused others to suffer. "All have sinned and come short of the glory of God," as my saintly grandmother used to remind me regularly.
My father has been dead for almost 20 years now, but I remember having a conversation with him when I was a young adult. It was an awkward conversation. We somehow got around to talking about my growing-up days, and my father asked at one point, "I was a pretty good dad, wasn't I? I gave you whatever you needed didn't I?" My memory was different from that. I remembered that money was scarce, that my father threw it away on alcohol and gambling.
"Well, actually, no, you didn't ... you weren't ... actually, our childhood was pretty difficult, Daddy." My father's face hardened in pain, and he said, "When you get older, you'll see. You'll see, when you have children of your own." And he was right. Yes, he hurt me grievously through his drinking, the same drinking that came between him and my mother, but I came to see that his alcoholism was not about me. It was about his emotional suffering from way back in his childhood and about his losing our mother, the only woman he ever loved, and about the addictive disease that alcohol is.
Another person's behavior is really not about us. Most of the time, the harm another does comes out of ignorance, pain, neediness and confusion -- the very same qualities that push us to act in ways we really don't want to act.
I did, in fact, find out what he meant by "I would see, when I had children of my own." He hurt his children, though he loved us. And though I loved them, I hurt my own children when I divorced their father. I can rationalize and say that they would have been worse off had I stayed with him, but I don't know that that's true. I know that I would have been worse off, and I was not willing to live half a life, with possibilities cut off. Will my children forgive me? I hope they will. We all cause pain, and we all need forgiveness.
We need to be careful of piety -- that is, the dutiful obedience that is so often tinged with self-righteousness and pride. One of the most fascinating stories in the Hebrew Bible is the story of the Prodigal Son. You may remember the story: a wealthy landowner has two sons, the older one, who follows his father's every wish, and the younger one, who is something of a hell-raiser. So the younger son tells his father, "Give me my inheritance." (Read: "I don't want to wait until you kick off. I want to party on, now!)
So the father does as his son asks. The son goes into a far land and spends all his inheritance in profligate living, and when he runs out of money, he runs out of friends. He finds himself caring for the animals on a pig farm, and he realizes, "Why, even these pigs have better food than I have! I should go back home and tell my father that I really screwed up, and that I'm sorry." And that he does.
When his father sees him coming in the distance, he says to his servants, "Kill the fatted calf! Invite my son's friends over for a party!" The son approaches his father, falls to the ground and begs for forgiveness, and the father puts a ring on his finger and rejoices, for that which was lost has been found.
Now, the really interesting part to the story to me is the reaction of the older brother. He says to his father, "Father, you never killed a calf for me, never even killed a goat, for me and my friends. So how come he disobeyed you, left home, wasted all your money and now he gets all the goodies? I've obeyed you all these years, and I get nothing."
Which brother would you like to have for a friend? Which one would you like to go out for an evening with? Sometimes we have to make mistakes -- and big ones -- before we learn a better way. But we are apt to grow richer and deeper, as we experience the bumps and bruises. Sometimes we bump and bruise others, as well. But how much more desirable this path, than the way of this prig of an older brother, who holds himself back from life and experience, and who judges himself worthy and his younger brother unworthy. Why could he not be happy at his brother's return? His piety had stolen his joy, his ability to rejoice in his brother's redemption. He is the big loser in the story.
The problem with piety -- and self-righteousness, in general -- is that it separates us from others. In the safe and secure citadel of our own goodness, we place ourselves out of human reach. The law is what directs us, then, and mercy takes a back seat. We become blind to our own failings, so intent are we on judging others, and in fact on projecting our own flaws onto them. A person can follow all the rules and yet be lacking in the milk of human kindness. In fact, when people are too rule-driven, that is what generally results.
The one law that is large enough to contain all the lesser laws, the one law that must be considered the grounding of the life well lived, is the law of love. If that law is grossly violated, it really doesn't matter how much money we make or how many accolades we receive. If we are able to live by this larger law, we will find within ourselves a kind and understanding heart, both for ourselves and for others. Forgiveness will come more easily because we know how morally frail we ourselves are, because we ourselves have blundered and because we know that the story is not over, that redemption is possible.
It is comforting to me to remember that my very weaknesses form the tension that pulls me again and again to the Holy One, asking that my brokenness be made whole. Paradoxically, it is often when I feel most satisfied with myself that I find myself losing faith -- or becoming, as it were, faithless. Self-congratulatory, I say to myself, "I'm doing great ... wasn't I?" Humility makes space for the Holy in our lives, whereas self-righteousness and judgment alienate others and elbow God out, as well.
It seems to me that forgiveness is all of a piece: When we are unable to forgive, we then perpetuate the fruits of non-forgiveness -- anger, hatred, revenge, pettiness of character. And the fruits of forgiveness -- humility, compassion, love, peace -- are lost to us. The place to begin is not self-condemnation, but the sincere desire to begin anew. If we earnestly seek to forgive, if we seek a change of heart, we will at some point have what we seek, for the nature of God is love, is forgiveness. We ourselves are forgiven even before we think to ask. We don't have to earn it. We just have to be willing to receive. As we ourselves are forgiven, we can through that same fount of grace forgive the injuries done to us.
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Staretz Anastasius of Pskovo
'Without forgiveness, what do we become? Bring me one person who has not borne a grudge or has not been wounded in love. You cannot find such a person fore no one has ever lived without hurt and pain. This whole life is full of sadness. We bear our own losses and that of others -- our childrens' pain and disappointments.
But the first step towards our liberation (mukta) is to forgive. However before even this, we must possess a clear mind. We must be in a state of shamatha (the condition of equanimity). This is the state we enter when ceasing to judge others. And then metta flows from this state and from loving kindness forgiveness. This is the path to karuna (compassion) through which the pearl is liberated. We are that pearl in the buff about to take the first step. The time is now!'
In the Throes of Life The Path to Liberation
Swami Jiddu Acharya
I find there are things I can accept and let go of, and other things I cannot. I will never forgive the person who sexually abused me at knife point, or how one of my parents physically abused me when I was young. I have no reason to, and what they did is unforgivable. The world carries on and so do I.
I've been there, am on more stable ground but like you I will never forget.
your thought process is more non-religious, yet you're using scripture
the progress for one to come into the likeness of God (HS) may very well involve "sorrow, remorse and amends" but for others, who have continued further along, how they respond or act is flat out no strings attached straight forgiveness, otherwise you start to control others, judge them, and develop hate that separates you from loving your neighbor (others)
Jesus sinned, letting rage take over as he did harm to the religious rulers whose job it was to collect the monetary offerings and selling animals for sacrifices, according to mosaic law, he is getting ready for the show down, his departure, they need to yell Barabbas, and his blood be on us and our children, so somehow they are going to have to dislike him....much
Matthew 6:14,15
Luke 6:27-37
John 8:1-11
In a way, I side with the article, simply because scientifically neurologically its true. We are not responsible for our actions. Our brain is. We are a life form; a physical organism pursuing its life intentionality with all the contradictions and capacity for "good" and "bad" that any life mechanism possesses. Our rational consciousness is a window on that process, an informant created by the process itself for its own purposes. We say aha, look what I did, but in reality our motivations are not of our own making. Everyone is a sinner.
The real joke is that there is no right and wrong or responsibility before the fact. Stories about right and should and ought are just about power, about being on top. We trade away love and intimacy and honest communication so we can tap the power. It's not "wrong". It's not "prig". It's just not love. It's power; the prerogatives of the elder son. Religion is an expression of our nature. It speaks out of both sides of it's mouth. It calls for love and forgiveness while it traffics in the should and the ought. We all do it.
f/f
Those words from my Dad absolutely set me free to really feel love for him. Of course he loved his Father just like I love mine, but what was it that set me free to do it? I can only decide that we were both totally accepting of each other, without blame and without denial. We at that very moment, allowed ourselves to experience life on life's terms. Everything flowed like a stream on a bright sunny day, and I loved it all.
I wont be holding my breath
In the younger son I see a representation of so many modern xians who seem to see going "to the father" for forgiveness as a spiritually enabled end-run around responsibly dealing with their own transgressions. In other words, the only folks who've genuinely burned me, or someone I know, and not exhibited what I'd consider reasonable remorse, outside of psychopaths, are devout xians. But when you've got your "& please forgive us our transgressions" nightly bedside get-out-jail-free card, who needs personal human growth or actual forgiveness from mere mortals?
In that light, I am thankful for the Xian business-people who prominently display that little fish thingy on their card, letterhead, or the sign out front, thereby simplifying descisions on whether or not to use their services. I only wish the fish symbol was mandatory.
the evil spirits accumulate in people, and at some point the "leveling experience" happens to them, then 'the madman was sitting, dressed and in his right mind, and the neighbors were amazed"
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I believe that both forgiveness and love are powerful decisions. Not, however, because they lead to ourselves feeling good. Real forgiveness and love can under some circumstances be very costly gifts. They are on the order of sacrifices and consequently cannot be understood within a context of narcissism. That is, when we do the right thing, it does not mean that we are assured a posture of piety. We do the right thing for its own sake.
The Lord's Prayer calls on us to forgive...so that we may be forgiven and in the measure we forgive we are also forgiven . This is related to the comment that unforgiveness "breeds anger, hatred, revenge, pettiness of character" because it separates us from our grace in God and cast shadows over our lives. I think that we are expected to forgive as Our Father forgives because we are asked to see how alike we are (sons and daughters of Our Father) and in our shared frailty we all make mistakes and hurt each other.