Month: October 2016 (Page 2 of 2)

Forgiveness for Whom?

I try extremely hard to not speak on behalf of God. Instead, I’m inclined to report on what God didn’t say. The ways that holy scripture can be twisted for personal benefit is endless, especially to an audience who has such little understanding of the culture to which it was originally written (a BFD, in my opinion).

So when prominent Christian leaders make big public statements, I hold my breath. On the one hand, we need their wisdom. I have my own personal favorites and when she or he speaks, I listen and absorb. I try to filter and use my own wisdom, but I know I’m never perfect in that regard. Sometimes I trust because I’m not at the point of being able to sort it for myself. And that’s okay. But Big Christian Leaders may not always keep this in mind. In fact, sometimes it is exploited.

Now that several Big Names have asked the Christian public to forgive Trump, I feel compelled to offer a warning; a reminder about what forgiveness involves.

Forgiveness is rarely about the offender. It’s about the offended. To be clear, Trump hasn’t asked for forgiveness. He doesn’t feel he did anything wrong. So we’re not offering reconciliation because his heart has softened and he realizes the error of his ways.

Often, forgiveness arises as a means of freedom for the one forgiving. It’s a weight you don’t have to carry anymore. Sometimes, we have to forgive and forgive and 10 years later you find you’ve picked up that same baggage and accidentally started toting it around with you again. It’s a conscious decision to set something aside for the sake of your own heart.

Jesus challenges to us to forgive in a limitless supply, because in forgiving others we lean into our own forgiven state – and vice versa. Often we feel more compelled to forgive once we realize our own forgiven-ness. Freedom begins to define us, rather than the smallness we feel with guilt and hatred. And the more you forgive, the easier it is to forgive again.

When you forgive someone, you’re freed from their actions defining you. This does not give license to the person to continue to hurt you. You can forgive someone, set that weight aside, while not inviting the behavior back into our lives.

The church has a terrible, nasty history of using forgiveness as a means of holding its people in situations that are unhealthy. “You need to forgive” – especially when in context of Jesus’ words that we will only be forgiven to the extent we forgive others – are weighty words. No one wants to feel un-forgiven, so the threat of a heavenly withholding can push people into corners.

Church leaders have used this logic to keep women in unhealthy and even dangerous relationships. Some pastors have been quick to tell the woman that her job “as a Christian” is to forgive – and while forgiveness is a godly goal, it is not synonymous with staying. Forgiving doesn’t give him a right to do it again. You can leave, and forgive. 

So when these leaders are pleading for a man’s forgiveness, let’s be clear: it’s for the sake of their own conscious. They’re looking to rectify their hearts with what they know to be wrong.  It is not synonymous with staying. It doesn’t require we go back.

If Trump followers want to forgive and move on, that’s the work of their own hearts. And it’s a good work. Forgive away, because the world needs more of it. But please don’t be convinced that such work requires you support the continued work of the forgiven, especially when the forgiven person has made no indication of change. There’s no evidence that it will be different next time.

The fear of the manatee

There is nothing I love more than a person who loves their job and does a kick ass job at doing it. Yesterday, I found such a person – an educator at the Zoo. I first stumbled upon her in the Manatee exhibit, where we were 4 of only 7 people in the building. My inner-Grandma Mary came out to play and I chatted with this treasure trove of information.  Her life-changing scientific observation was this:

Manatees have no fear.

None. They have no known predators. Apparently their body lacks the tasty-substance that carnivores seek, and over time have evolved to be known as utterly useless when dead. So beasts of prey leave them alone. And manatees know this.

The manatees are like the homecoming queens of the ocean. They believe that everybody loves them – or, at least, won’t outright hurt them. They offer more to the world alive than dead and they intrinsically know it.

Can you imagine living without fear? Leaving the house with an understanding that no is was out to get you? Basking in the freedom to love and trust. I can only imagine the life of a manatee to be filled with joy and play and mutually beneficial relationships. Part of me wants to be a manatee.

However, there’s a downfall to such confidence.  Boats.

Manatees seem to be endangered not because of the ecosystem’s natural attrition but because their friendliness toward the world leads them to swim toward, rather than away from, ships. Boats of humans don’t seek to destroy the manatee, but the overly-friendly water mammals swim toward, in their eyes, the new potential sea-friend. And then they die.

You see, fear plays a vital role in our survival. That surge of fight/flight/freeze keeps us safe. A life with nothing to be afraid of will get you run over by a boat.

The moral of the story is not to be fear-less. Our culture touts a lack of fear as synonymous with untouchable. The near-extinction of the manatee proves this isn’t the result.

fearI counter we need more awareness with healthy proportions of fear. The challenge is to put fear in the correct seat – not driving, but an alert passenger, well familiar with the countryside. As Elizabeth Gilbert writes, talk to your fear. Let it come along. Just make sure it’s not tripping you up at every turn.

More than any other command in the Bible is “fear not.” Why? Because the fear cripples the faithfulness. God doesn’t ask us not to feel the fear, but rather not to live by fear. There’s a huge difference between pretending we’re invincible and knowing that your next right step is protected and encouraged by God’s presence.

The sweet spot is to become like the manatee, believing not everyone is out to get us, but grow in our awareness – of our environment, of our natural place within the world, and the ways in which God has called us to live.

Love and live with your eyes open.

Celebrating a birthday in the mourning

Last year I bought myself flowers, for my birthday.  I have historically celebrated a birthday week (or two) and have been known not to do it quietly.  My last year in Troy,  I planned my own GNO party, and even created my own facebook event – this year I did the same with a text picture of yours truly. I’m that person who will try to use every free marketing gimmick in my inbox. (Related: who’s free for Red Robin this month?!)

This might come across sounding quite brattish, as if I make all the noise in order to get people to celebrate me. But that’s not the case. I am surrounded by loving and friends and family who remember me, without my noise. I don’t have to celebrate my own birthday; I get to.

My special day falls amid a string of October dates that my favorite people on this earth marked with black pens. My husband and his family lost his 16-year-old sister suddenly. My best friend buried her mother after a hateful illness. A dear patron saint of our church died abruptly years before we were ready for her to go. Another young boy in our local school system fell to October’s cruel grasp a few years ago. A former employer will face the dreaded two-year mark of grief for her husband. All within this span of 31 days.

Needless to say, no one in my town likes October anymore. Pumpkin spice can’t wash away the bitter taste of loss. My dear friend Kristy says you can step into the crisp morning and smell death in the air.

And here I am, buying flowers and drinking margaritas and asking everyone to smile for the picture. Rude, right?

Living in the wake of loss with those close to me has provided me new wisdom, such as,  people say stupid things from a good heart. “Heaven needed another angel” is at the top of the Don’t Say That list. Folks like me who believe in an afterlife in heaven seek to take comfort in those celestial promises. Of course, they’re “in a better place.” But the distance between there and here hurts. Real bad.

Which can only lead me to one conclusion: life, here, matters. If it mattered little, it would hurt little. The more you love, the more you fill days with joy and curiosity and adventure with other people. And the harder it is to see them end.

So if life, here, matters, then… what? I’m only left with one option: to live it in celebration and in gratitude for another year at living it.

I give my loved ones plenty of space to grieve throughout this horrid month. I really do. I try my hardest to be attentive to the calendar, to give space, to nod in solemn agreement that this sucks. We miss her. Grief knows no expiration date and I’ll never ask others to chipper up for the sake of a party – that’s simply not fair.

What I will do is attempt to honor the lives that left too early by approaching my birthday not with disdain at “getting older” but with appreciation that they keep on coming. I’ve got another year on this globe, so what will I do with it? I’m facing 36, an age that others didn’t get. How can I do it justice?

For me, it’s not skydiving or rocky mountain climbing*, but rather the way in which I sow love into my life. It’s more hugs, more forgiveness, more gratitude. It’s acknowledging another work of art in the sunset from my front porch.

It’s also mandating a friend eat unnecessary amounts of nachos with me. It’s acting surprised when my kids hand me a haphazardly wrapped gift. It’s requesting your parents spend too much money renting a cabin in Hocking Hills for the weekend. It’s drinking one more because “it’s my birthday!”

Not in my honor. But in honor of life. In the honor of the gift of another year, another month, another day. I’ll wear the birthday sombrero for a chance at that. I’ll blow out the candles and hold the hands of people I love, at least one. more. time.

 

 

*Thanks Tim McGraw for setting that up for me so poetically.

Newer posts »

© 2024 Michele Minehart

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑