What Forgiveness Isn't

What Forgiveness Isn’t

DATELINE—NEW HAVEN. So I’m up here at Yale Divinity School, and I’m not finding any answers. The holier-than-thou glow has not yet set in, the path has not unfurled for me like a welcoming red carpet. I’m not even finding any clarity about this whole forgiveness thing. The best I’ve come to is a list of what forgiveness isn’t. So I guess I’ll start with one of those.

Forgiveness is not a contract. When Girlfriend and I set off to sell our condo, there were lots of other people in the mix. If the sellers didn’t show up at the open house, if their lenders weren’t as thrilled as they, if the homeowners association wouldn’t let us off the hook about our out-of-regulation door…. Any single of these other parties could have kept us condo-owners, and least in the short-term. We could not have even given our condo away without the cooperation of the title folks and record-keepers down at city hall.

Forgiveness is a solo act. It’s usually “inspired” by some something that another person does, but the forgiving bit is up to you and me.

I find this to be trickier than it appears. Can I forgive someone who isn’t sorry? Am I required to forgive the person who approaches me with their regret? Can I forgive the person who is all but guaranteed to do that thing again? And if I do—and then she does—then what the heck comes next?

This morning, Girlfriend called me in the middle of my prayers. She wanted me to know that she was having trouble doing me that favor she had promised. The one that I had planned to do myself, the one that has a not-small hunk of money hanging on it. The one that came with clear directions from which she had decided to divert, the one that’s due TODAY, my very last day in this special spot, the day I have to clean and move out of my apartment while I try to do my homework so that I get the full advantage of this opportunity that I may never have again to think, with other people, about our notions of divinity.

By the time I clicked the phone off, I wasn’t feeling too divine. And then I thought (perhaps the setting or the prayer helped out): No! Wait! This is an opportunity! I get to take a stab here at forgiveness (rather than at Girlfriend the not-so-sunny part of me chipped in).

Things got tricky fast. First, I had to think: just what am I forgiving here? A failed attempt? It hadn’t failed yet—what if Rose down at the bank came in today? What if Girlfriend made the call and what if they connected? What if things worked out?

Was I thinking of forgiving her attempt—an attempt I may have thought was pretty lame? Was I irked that Girlfriend hadn’t taken it more seriously? Hadn’t followed my directions (copious and clear)? If so, then I had every right to be right mad—regardless of the outcome of her last-ditch oh-this-IS-important effort. Except I’d feel sort of like an ass if that’s how I responded to the call that may not come—the one when Girlfriend tells me everything is all worked out.

Was I angry that she’d interrupted me? But how the heck could she know? And WHY had I answered the phone?

And what about that nagging irritation, that I should have just done this favor for myself, that I should know by now that I can’t trust her…she always dumps this kind of stuff on me, her with her I-gotta-get-there-job and all her empty talk about my time matters just as much. A little voice of mercy deep inside said “whoa.”

Here’s what I keep finding out about this God of ours…it doesn’t take much scratching of the surface when he’s wandering around, and suddenly the basement opens up below you, and you’re swaying at the edges peering in. Here’s the best that I could get to, before my time of prayer timed out: I was really really mad at Girlfriend, because she had reminded me of all the frailty that I cart around with me:

· I’m not organized or disciplined enough to get my whole life all in order before I take off for a week. I mean, let’s talk about the friend and colleague that I pretty much just ditched mid-project because, well, I couldn’t get the work done when I had hoped to—not when I had to get my hair cut, 100 miles away. Maybe it’s that I’m too selfish, self-important, vain to bring some discipline to little things like, oh, the bills and work.

· I’m not absolutely every moment certain Girlfriend loves me as I’d like her to—I think she thinks I’m histrionic about money, for example. (Some days I think she’s right—and that suggests that maybe she loves me better than I want her to. And that for sure’s a stumper.)

· I’m not absolutely certain every single instance that I love her as I’ve promised. I mean, is my love dependent on her following directions? And might she follow my directions better if I said it was? What if her happiness depends upon us staying here inside the life we’ve built—and what if mine requires that we break away? In little ways and big ones, I sometimes wonder if this ‘til we die thing will work out….

So. At least now I have identified some things worth getting mad about. But who to get mad at, and how? This is why I’m poking at forgiveness. I think it’s oversimplified, and much too narrow, in the way that we engage its day-to-day exchange. The exercise I went through on this irritated morning—mostly thinking, not letting things slide by—led me to pray for mercy more sincerely than I’ve managed in a while: Lord have mercy; Christ have mercy; Lord have mercy; Grant us peace.

Maybe forgiveness is a way for each of us to get here. Maybe its the thing we manage on our way. Perhaps forgiveness, practiced with some discipline, can teach us to be merciful to one another and ourselves. I’m not so sure of all of that—I just know that I no longer want to wag my finger at dear Girlfriend when I see her next (tonight!). Instead, I want to take her in my arms—thankful, sorry, hopeful and afraid—and trying, all together.