On Self-Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a precious gift. Don't push it away with your guilt . . . That hurts too many people. (from Rachel's Garden by Marta Perry; pg. 320)

Modesto Vandals Damage Virgin Mary Statues - Video - KCRA Sacramento

To be able to freely forgive is a hard won ability. We learn from the youngest age to defend ourselves, hit back, strike first lest we get struck first. To forgive is the hardest of gifts to learn to give. To forgive automatically suggests that someone has done a great wrong against you. To accept forgiveness, and in fact to forgive oneself, is harder still. It suggests an awareness that you have done wrong and deep shame is felt.

This Becomes This

Modesto Vandals Damage Virgin Mary Statues - Video - KCRA Sacramento

When I first learned of the vandalization and desecration of St. Stanislaus Church (just two years old), I had arrived at a time in my life when the thought of forgiveness was first and foremost in my mind. Forgive them for what they did. Pray for them. I would not have been able to do this even ten years ago if I had not experience the profound physical experience of letting something go and forgiven a great harm that was done to me almost 40 years ago.

Once I forgave, I was on the road to this moment on August 29, 2010, when I learned of the desecration shown in the video above, and the first thought after the shock cleared away was "God forgive them". And it was no surprise that two days later, the parish community itself, along with many others from outside of St. Stanislaus Parish, joined together in prayer to pray for those who had perpetrated such harm.

I don't know about others but what for me started out as a teary experience in the end became a moment of grace and peace and a strong feeling of being united with everyone in the church. We were all one family grieving over the same loss and we drew strength from each other.

The Mother is not at home

These two statue were not touched. They are the two male icons in the church, St. Anthony (on the left) and St. Joseph. It was only Holy Mother who was touched, blooded and in the case of the empty niche to the left, destroyed.

So much more could have been lost. The glass wall housing the tabernacle. The tabernacle itself was untouched. Only one window in the building was broken, the one broken to get in. The organ was upended and turned over but once righted was found to be still playable.

I think though that the worst thing that could have been lost was the sense of love and unity and prayerfulness the church members displayed. But that didn't happen. No. Instead, in that one terrible moment, no matter what our differences, we were family and stood together as one and forgave.

The Shock of It

Today, at Easter Sunday Mass, I was witness to something very sad. It started out simply enough. It is 10:40 and the church is slowly filling with the larger than usual group of Sunday worshippers. Easter and Christmas always fill up the church. If we had these, as we call them, Chreaster Catholics, at Mass every Sunday, we could change the world. The force of good would overwhelm the rampant evil in the world but that's another subject for another blog. Back to the topic at hand - forgiveness.

"Mary" has been a member of our parish for 40 years. For the past 25 years and specifically for the past 25 Easter Sundays, she has played the piano and directed the music for the 11 a.m. Mass. This is her personal ministry, her calling. It means a lot to her. This Sunday, a portion of our youth group band entered and started setting up to play the music. When "Mary" arrived the shock of seeing others set up to play threw her into a terrible vortex of shock and anger. No one had told her that she wasn't playing.

The youth band director tried to calm her but there was no calming her, no abating of the erupting anger and insult of feelings emerging from her. Clearly, there had been a breakdown in communication. Words like "I've been here 40 years . . ." "I've played this Mass 25 years . . ." "I'm done. I'm finished. I won't be back." Even Fr. A's presence and attempt to talk to her did nothing to calm her.

Since I was sitting right across the aisle from this emotional event, I was able to see and hear it all unwind. I felt great sympathy for her and for the young people of the band. It was uncomfortable for them and devastating for her. And while I sympathized with her, another part of me regretted that she did not have the self-control to remember where she was and why she was really there.

The liturgy committee schedules all the Mass details for special days such as Easter. Why didn't anyone say something to "Mary". She certainly wasn't a stranger to the routine of such Holy Day services. How could such a breakdown occur? What history of participation from the past lead her to believe that it was set in stone that 11 a.m. was her Mass to play? Why didn't she think to check and confirm the schedule herself? Such useless questions in the moment, of course, but I hope the story does not end here.

It's moments like this that show us how confused our purpose for being at worship can become. We are there, first and foremost, to give our thoughts and attention to our Lord and the great sacrifice He made for us. Yes, we want to serve Him if we are called to do so in some capacity, but service must be given in a spirit of humility and gratitude for the privilege of providing the service. Somewhere along the way, the line was blurred in "Mary's" ministry. The meaning became more for her sake than for His.

I pray that with the ebbing of her anger and hurt and talking with Fr. A privately and then with the committee members who did the scheduling; and I hope with an apology from them, that she will find her way to forgiveness and peace. I pray that she does not choose to continue to not participate in a ministry that means so much to her. It would be a great loss.

The Poison Spindle

 The poison Spindle (unfinished illo by me)

It's easy for me to be smug about forgiveness when I am happy and all is going well and the dark corners of my soul are hidden from view.  BUT what if I am the Fairy (become wicked witch) who did not get invited to the wedding?

How do I avoid planting a poisoned spindle?

That actually happened to me, many years ago.  A good friend--or so I'd thought--got married.  Her fiance wanted my boyfriend as his best man, but my boyfriend and I had just had a fight.  They decided that to avoid tension at their wedding, they would not invite me.  I was incredibly hurt.  Our friendship was never the same after that.  I felt unloved and rejected.  I've tried and tried to forgive.  I have not succeeded as well as I would prefer.  We are polite and write to each other every year at Christmas, but the closeness is gone.  I would like to truly forgive, to forgive deeply and be cleansed of any lingering resentments.  But that is not what I reallywanted to talk about.

The current issueone is GB, my stepson.  He did not show up at home tonight in time to leave for his guitar lesson.  This is the boy who "doesn't consider me family," who stopped calling me "Mom," though he called me that for many years, who doesn't want me to adopt him.  Orphan boy.  But it's me calling to make him his last minute already late doctor appointments so he can join track and me calling all around trying to find him so he won't miss his guitar lesson.  And there won't be any thank yous.  Not today, and probably never.

Do I need them?  I probably shouldn't need them.  I should be able to rise above it all, to continue to be loving in the face of rejection--and I keep trying--but sometimes, it's hard.  Very hard.

Anyone know a way to detoxify a poison spindle?

I want to do nothing dishonorable or unloving in the face of continued rejection and being taken for granted.  (can those two be in the same sentence together, rejection and being taken for granted?}.  IS there such a thing as ONGOING FORGIVENESS?  How does one learn that skill?

When to forgive?

Sometimes, I am not sure whether or how to forgive. I feel confused.
I ask myself:

a. Jesus (What would Jesus do?) It's been suggested that we ask this when confused about how to proceed. Jesus was not always Mr. Kindness and forgiveness. He kicked over the tables of the moneychangers. He cursed a tree that wouldn't flower for him. So how do we know when to forgive and when to start kicking? (I had Sissy acting like Jesus in my kids' book, Frog Haven!)

b. Buddha (What would Buddha do?) Imperturbability? I can only FAKE IT! I can "Act as if." I can pretend. But inside is a maelstrom. It rears its ugly head when my guard is down. How can I calm the maelstrom inside? (Prayer helps).

When forgiveness?

When forgiveness?

At what point does forgiveness come into the equation when there's been an argument or misunderstanding?? Does s/he have to ASK for it, apologize? I usually just forgive him or her the best I can after a while because otherwise there is too much tension. And I feel too sad. But if there's been no apology and the bad behavior continues, is forgiveness appropriate?

Faking and Forgiving

There is the truth that meets between reality and conscienceness. Your actions, your conscious desire to forgive, are real but the realm of sleep is a playground for that which wants to undermine us from our waking desires and impulses to be good, to do what is right. If we let it do its job, we end up doubting ourselves.

I don't speak from theory. I was good because I was told to be good. And, I believed the world was good. Then I learned it wasn't always good. Next step - how to behave and feel the truth of who I am and how I felt. That was no easy task and I felt like I was faking it.

Yes, that was the word I used too. Interestingly, I still feel sometimes as though I am a fake. Case in point: I never cried after my mother's death. This means I didn't really love her. Ergo - I'm faking it. Of course, that's pure bullshit.

For me, the solution to middle of the night obsessing was and remains prayer. It is very common for me to wake in the middle of the night filled with worries, fears, anger, doubts, and dread. I finally tried prayer - the Hail Mary and Our Father of my youth and adult life. They act as a meditation, a mantra, a chant, a redirection of thought. My belief in their power restores my trust, my faith in what I really believe to be true about myself.

There is no one who pushes my buttons more than my husband does, and like you, the event is almost always about some little thing. And again like you, more than a few fights ensued because of the provocation, with rarely an apology (well, on his side anyway). But, I chalk that up to male pride and I let him have it. But somewhere along the line, I learned to let him know my real feelings and my hurts and/or general disagreement. It's not easy and I've learned to pick my times so emotions of the moment don't clutter things up.

I find myself often feeling fake at work and the source is clearly my burn-out, my impatience with the same questions and attitudes I've dealt with for 21 years. But, self-awareness has taught me to recognise the slide into rudeness and impatience (well mostly). The extra effort to reach out, do good, help and give guidance always, 100%, results in gratitude because someone took the time to listen and to hear.

Of course, there is always a voice waiting to tell me I'm such a fake. And it's not just about faking forgiveness, either. Learning to trust your own realness, in all things, just leads naturally to believing in your capacity to forgive. To not believe in our self only weakens us.

Of course, the stronger the self-belief, the stronger the assault from outside to undermine that belief, that understanding of our self. We find ourselves meeting and learning and coming to know and understand the religious sense we are all born with. But that is a whole other conversation.