The air sticks to my skin, humid enough to hang suspended and thinly substantial. Like a veil. A
torturous, hot, stifling veil.
It's a typical July summer day in the southeast.
I've been staring at an email I received from a friend some days ago. I admired her once, but we've since lost touch for very particular reasons. I had emailed her a week before, asking if we could meet to talk over -- not around -- the reasons for our current estrangement. "I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish", she responded. She only wanted to meet if I was looking for a "biblical" reconciliation.
But here's the thing.
I've lost a bit of myself over the past months. Cracking at the seams under what I can only call the weight of PTSD, I've been struggling to stitch myself back together. Every relationship in my life shifted under the strain, and I -- a mess of threads -- often forced the change. I withdrew, lashing out when threatened, and I felt very threatened indeed. So I hurt people, deliberately and accidentally. Always, always reacting to the stress as if I were scrabbling at rocks at the edge of a cliff. Desperate, shivering. Angry.
I describe it this way: I endured some kind of subterranean implosion, an upsetting of the farthest reaches of me in a catastrophic supernova. Everything scattered, no longer intelligible. I clutched together what fragments I could, collapsing inward like a neutron star.
So what I hear when I'm told "biblical" reconciliation is nothing more than added darkness. People want to forgive; they want to move on with it. Deal with it and get past the pain. That's what this person was asking me to do.
To mix my metaphors here: In their rush to get over it, they heal too fast and trap the anger, bitterness, and hurt inside before it can drain out. People don't realize it, but our souls can get infected, too. If we fail to properly treat our wounds, the anger, embarrassment and hurt will fester into bitterness and despair.
This is why I'm positive that most folks misunderstand "biblical" forgiveness. We're told we have to forgive. Forgiving each other is a direct command from Jesus. So, when someone wounds us, we say, "I forgive you", and then we try to move on as if nothing has happened.
But that's not forgiveness.
That's evasion.
That's the very thing my friend is asking me to do in this email.
It doesn't heal the wound and it doesn't bring account or help the one who has helped to cause the pain. To act as if nothing happened doesn't really bring healing, wholeness. Something happened. Something particular happened. And that something particular helped create the weight under which I've been for some months.
Forgiveness means dealing honestly with that something particular. It also means dealing with it redemptively. But you don't get to the redemptively part of that honesty until you've gotten to the truthfulness part of it.
It's a particular pain, and we have to own it. That's what I had asked my friend to do. And that's what she was refusing in her return email to me.
Now, dealing redemptively with forgiveness also means that we release the person from the expectation that they can fix it. They can't. But we can deal with that pain together in prayer. That's what I had asked my friend to do with me, and that's what she is refusing to do in her return email.
All this to say, forgiveness takes time. It isn't easy and it isn't fast. It can't be accomplished in one conversation. I know this. I wasn't asking for that. I'm always suspicious -- as I am this morning -- of anyone who wants to believe that forgiveness can happen quickly. Forgiveness is deep soul work. More often than not, Jesus will use those moments to expose the idols we set up for ourselves. What idols? Our own egos for one, false impressions of ourselves for another, but you get the idea. Our Savior is so merciful and good he always uses those things meant to harm us for our own good.
Forgiveness isn't something you can rush or manipulate. Forgiveness depends on Jesus working in my life, and in the life of this other person. That's why we love our enemies and pray for them. Jesus is working on me, replacing my pain with his love, and in so doing, loving the person who has caused some of the pain.
That's what makes "biblical" forgiveness so hard to explain. It's a God Thing.
It's a typical July summer day in the southeast.
I've been staring at an email I received from a friend some days ago. I admired her once, but we've since lost touch for very particular reasons. I had emailed her a week before, asking if we could meet to talk over -- not around -- the reasons for our current estrangement. "I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish", she responded. She only wanted to meet if I was looking for a "biblical" reconciliation.
But here's the thing.
I've lost a bit of myself over the past months. Cracking at the seams under what I can only call the weight of PTSD, I've been struggling to stitch myself back together. Every relationship in my life shifted under the strain, and I -- a mess of threads -- often forced the change. I withdrew, lashing out when threatened, and I felt very threatened indeed. So I hurt people, deliberately and accidentally. Always, always reacting to the stress as if I were scrabbling at rocks at the edge of a cliff. Desperate, shivering. Angry.
I describe it this way: I endured some kind of subterranean implosion, an upsetting of the farthest reaches of me in a catastrophic supernova. Everything scattered, no longer intelligible. I clutched together what fragments I could, collapsing inward like a neutron star.
So what I hear when I'm told "biblical" reconciliation is nothing more than added darkness. People want to forgive; they want to move on with it. Deal with it and get past the pain. That's what this person was asking me to do.
To mix my metaphors here: In their rush to get over it, they heal too fast and trap the anger, bitterness, and hurt inside before it can drain out. People don't realize it, but our souls can get infected, too. If we fail to properly treat our wounds, the anger, embarrassment and hurt will fester into bitterness and despair.
This is why I'm positive that most folks misunderstand "biblical" forgiveness. We're told we have to forgive. Forgiving each other is a direct command from Jesus. So, when someone wounds us, we say, "I forgive you", and then we try to move on as if nothing has happened.
But that's not forgiveness.
That's evasion.
That's the very thing my friend is asking me to do in this email.
It doesn't heal the wound and it doesn't bring account or help the one who has helped to cause the pain. To act as if nothing happened doesn't really bring healing, wholeness. Something happened. Something particular happened. And that something particular helped create the weight under which I've been for some months.
Forgiveness means dealing honestly with that something particular. It also means dealing with it redemptively. But you don't get to the redemptively part of that honesty until you've gotten to the truthfulness part of it.
It's a particular pain, and we have to own it. That's what I had asked my friend to do. And that's what she was refusing in her return email to me.
Now, dealing redemptively with forgiveness also means that we release the person from the expectation that they can fix it. They can't. But we can deal with that pain together in prayer. That's what I had asked my friend to do with me, and that's what she is refusing to do in her return email.
All this to say, forgiveness takes time. It isn't easy and it isn't fast. It can't be accomplished in one conversation. I know this. I wasn't asking for that. I'm always suspicious -- as I am this morning -- of anyone who wants to believe that forgiveness can happen quickly. Forgiveness is deep soul work. More often than not, Jesus will use those moments to expose the idols we set up for ourselves. What idols? Our own egos for one, false impressions of ourselves for another, but you get the idea. Our Savior is so merciful and good he always uses those things meant to harm us for our own good.
Forgiveness isn't something you can rush or manipulate. Forgiveness depends on Jesus working in my life, and in the life of this other person. That's why we love our enemies and pray for them. Jesus is working on me, replacing my pain with his love, and in so doing, loving the person who has caused some of the pain.
That's what makes "biblical" forgiveness so hard to explain. It's a God Thing.