All Forgiveness Created Equal?

Today's reading was interesting to me. It's a passage that I've heard before, but something new stuck out to me this time around. It's the parable that Jesus tells about forgiving one's neighbor "seventy times seven times", and then he goes on about the man who owed a great debt that was forgiven, but then did not forgive the debt that someone else owed to him. I understand the point of it: forgive as you are forgiven. Love as you are loved. But this parable seems to make light of the issue of forgiveness itself.

Forgiveness in this parable is likened to a financial burden. Someone owed a huge amount, and the debt was erased. Then someone else owed a smaller amount, and it was considered unforgiveable by the servant. God calls us to forgive, no matter what the grievance. But is it really as easy as vanishing a financial debt?

I have struggled a lot in my life with forgiveness, especially because there are some people who we come across who really don't seem to "deserve" our forgiveness or benefit from the act of being forgiven. Does God expect me to forgive my sister for staining my dress in the same sense that I would forgive my boyfriend for cheating on me? There are definitely levels of forgiveness, just like there are levels of grievances. Forgiveness takes time, and it should never be faked or rushed. It's a terrible feeling to say that you've forgiven someone, only to habor hate and resentment in your heart for months and even years afterward.

When we carry around that load of bitterness, we do ourselves a disservice. It took me a very long time for me to realize that my anger toward my ex-boyfriend really didn't affect him at all. He had graduated from college and moved on to a new life with a new girlfriend and a new chapter. I, on the other hand, grew more and more angry at a situation that no longer existed, at a person who was no longer in my life. My anger only hurt me in the end. It was this realization that finally caused me to forgive him. I didn't forgive him for his own sake; he didn't really seem to care about that. I forgave him for my own sake. For my own sense of peace and self-respect.

Forgiveness isn't about the sin. It's about the one who was sinned against. It's not about who did what, and who's to blame for what problem. It's about learning to let experiences be, just as they are, and learning to find peace with that. Forgiveness doesn't mean "fixing" the problem. It means allowing it to be a little bit broken and moving forward to a better tomorrow. I'm not saying that we should never try to reconcile....reconciliation is one of the most powerful human experiences that we can ever have. But the reality is that it's just not always possible, and we need to be OKAY with that. I think that may be my biggest struggle when it comes to forgiveness. I want to make things right. I want the forgiveness to be a catalyst that ultimately leads to the perpetrator coming back to me, apologetic and begging for mercy, and I have the decency to allow him back in my life.

It doesn't always work like that, kids. And everyone knows that. That is why forgiveness always needs to be heartfelt, and it should not expect anything in return. Sure, it would be great if the one who is forgiven realizes why they're being forgiven. It would be great if remorse was involved. But we need to be content with the reality that no situation is perfect, especially when it comes to forgiving a great wrong.

Jesus calls us to forgive. It's not this pious notion of this ideal way to live where everyone gets along and no one is hurt and love conquers all. Forgiveness is messy. And it takes a long time. Jesus never called us to an easy journey...but it's ultimately the journey that leads us to a greater and deeper relationship with God.

Forgive your brother from your heart...not your pride.

Peace.

God's Constancy

My devotional from a few days ago really struck me. The first sentence read, "This is the time in your life when you must learn to let go." I feel that this statement has been both a blessing and a curse over the last three years. "Letting go" has never really been one of my strongest suits, as I have struggled pretty seriously over a broken heart more than once. Letting go has never come easily, since I am, by nature, a person who seeks reconciliation and peace. Letting go always seems like a defeat, an end to something with no closure, no peace. Letting go seems like dying.

But I have learned that in order to live and love again, I need to let go. A very wise professor/mentor of mine once told me that in order to honor my love for the boy who no longer loved me, I needed to let him go. I needed to let him live his own life while respecting myself enough to live mine. It was one of the most powerful things that anyone has ever said to me, and I hold it close to my heart today.

The devotional continues to say: "You can feel secure, even in the midst of cataclysmic changes, through awareness of My continual Presence. The One who never leaves you is the same One who never changes. I am the same yesterday, today, and forever. As you release more and more things into My care, remember that I never let go of your hand. Herein lies your security, which no one and no circumstance can take from you."

Now, I'm not here to take credit for someone else's musings, but that is a beautiful idea. We need to let go of past hurts, past brokenness, and past blame...but God never lets go of us! Even if we have hurt God, even if we have refused a relationship with God, God never lets us go. One of my favorite praise songs from camp is "You Never Let Go." It's simple, but powerful. It reiterates for us how deeply God's love runs. His love can withstand any grievance and any offense...and then God loves us MORE. It's remarkable.

During this season of Lent, I am trying to meditate on God's love. I'm not much for fatalism, or for dwelling too much of Christ's passion (I know, what a bad Catholic.) But I am trying more these days to focus on Christ's sacrifice. I'm still not sure where I stand on my atonement theology, and if Jesus really was sent down to earth as a Plan B of sorts (that will be for another post...) But I am sure one of thing: regardless of human action, God's love for us never fades. Whether we are perfect disciples who all bring incredible things to the human experience, or whether we are the ones whom society has forgotten...God's love never changes. My own love for myself changes on a daily basis, but it's good to know that God isn't that insecure or fickle.

For I am the LORD your God
who takes hold of your right hand
and says to you, Do not fear;
I will help you. - Isaiah 41:13

Awesome. Peace.

Sacrifice

Happy Lent, everyone. I pray that you are all trying to grow closer to God during this important time. As for me, I have spent the week struggling through the mindless droning of Confirmation retreat while trying to stay afloat through a nasty chestcold. In a few hours, we will be leading another retreat, which will last through the entire weekend and, naturally, cause me to expend a lot of energy. Energy I don't have, might I add. I am praying for strength.

I didn't want to be on this retreat. I was told about a month ago that because of the expected small turnout, I could possibly have the weekend off. So, I told my boss from summer camp that I could volunteer at their own retreat, since many of my good friends will be there. I then found out two days ago that I was actually needed on this retreat that ended up having like triple the amount of registrants. I was disapponted. I understand that it's my job and that my ministry here comes before anything else...which is why I will not complain this weekend (I hope). But I just wanted to do ministry with a different group of people, just to refresh my own soul and to support another very important organization in my life. But, God calls us to different things for a reason. I am needed on this weekend so that I can use my own gifts and talents to lead a few prayer services. And what a gift that is: to help teenagers grow closer to God in a prayerful setting. I am blessed to be able to do this as my full-time job, and I should be grateful for it.

As for the camp retreat, they will have many, many gifted people to make it a success, and my only sadness is that I cannot witness it myself. This job is calling me to sacrifice this year. I sacrificed a normal post-grad year and because of that, I was not able to have a reunion with my college friends when I wanted to, I was unable to keep up a healthy relationship with the guy I was dating, and I have been constantly challenged all year to compromise, apologize, give credit to others, and to be humbled by the reality of it all. I am learning a lot about what it really means to dedicate a life to God, and it's not easy.

But it's worth it.

Peace to you all this day.

Liz

Be Still and Know That I Am God

Be Still And Know That I Am God

Be Still and Know That I AM

Be Still and Know

Be Still

Be


I have heard and uttered those words so many times over the last four years. They have become something of a mantra during my time at Saint Bonaventure, as it is often what we say at the beginning of prayer services and quiet meditations on retreats. It's only fitting, then, that this is the verse for today's daily devotional: Psalm 46:10. I spent this past weekend at my alma mater, re-living the glory days and spending some much needed catch-up time with friends. It was a blessing to be there and to enjoy the simple pleasures of laughter, wine, and dancing. It was medicine for my soul: exactly what I needed during this busy time in my life.

I think that we have a very difficult time being still. Our modern society is constantly plagued with noise: from music to television to the internet to even daily conversation. While none of these aspects of life are negative, they can lead to a feeling of being drained, exhausted, and depleted. We, as humans, long for peace and quiet. As much as we love the laughter, the dancing, and the companionship of old friends, we also seek solitude, reverence, and silence. It is in the silence where God dwells very strongly, and it is in the silence where we can hear the yearnings of our own hearts.

My Lenten promise was to spend more time in prayerful silence. I'm doing a year of ministry, and you would think that I am constantly surrounded by the workings of the Spirit...and I am. But I find myself yearning for some inner quiet and I'll be the first to admit that my prayer life isn't what it should be. So far, I have been failing miserably with the intentional silence. But every day is a new chance to do this, and I am committed to at least trying it.

"It is through spending time with Me that you realize how wide and long and high and deep is My love for you.

Live in God's presence. Peace.

Ash Wednesday

Happy Ash Wednesday, interwebs! I'm not sure if you're supposed to say "Happy" Ash Wednesday, since it's supposed to be a solemn day, but it doesn't really make much of a difference to me, so I'm over it. My community had Mass with ashes today, and it was the first time that one of my roommates has ever gotten ashes. She's been a Catholic her whole life, so it surprised me that she had never done the ashes thing. She explained to me that her family never participated in the ashes because it seemed like a cheap way to "one-up" people who aren't outwardly "religious" on this one day of the year. In some ways, the ashes remind me of that passage in the Gospels where Jesus is chastising the Pharisees for praying in the streets and beating their breasts for the whole world to see. Doesn't Jesus tell us to pray in secret? Doesn't Jesus warn us against showing off your faith like it's a girl scout badge? If that's the case, what's the deal with the ashes, and why are they such a central part of Church tradition? I understand that the ashes are last year's burnt palms, and it symbolizes our sin and our willingness to change some of our sinful habits during the season of Lent. But sometimes I wonder if we get caught up in the ritual too much and forget the real meaning of what we're doing. It's the Protestant side of me, I suppose.

I've been reading a daily devotional entitled "Jesus Calling" since the beginning of the year. I haven't been the best of actually reading it every day, but tonight's devotional was particularly beautiful...

"Rest in My radiant presence. The world around you seems to spin faster and faster, till everything if a blur. Yet there is a cushion of calm at the center of your life, where you live in union with Me. Return to this soothing center as often as you can, for this is where you are energized: filled with My Love, Joy, and Peace. The world is a needy place; do not go there for sustenance. Instead, come to Me. Learn to depend on Me alone, and your weakness will become saturated with My Power. When you find your completeness in Me, you can help other people without using them to meet your own needs. Live in the Light of My Presence, and your light will shine brightly into the lives of others."

"By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things." - Galatians 5:22-23

I love this reflection because it dwells so much within the image of light. Lent is a time to think critically about ourselves and all of the ways that we're not living up to the way God wants us to live. But we do this so much that we so easily forget our most fundamental value: that we are people of the Light. Before we messed up, before we sinned, before we hurt ourselves and those around us: before all that, we were in the Light. And I would argue that we're still in the Light, even if all we see is darkness. During this season of Lent, God is calling us to be people of Light, shining in front of others so that they, too, can see beauty and love and peace and joy. So, this Lent, I'm not going to worry so much about what I'm "giving up". I'm going to try to think more critically about how I can bring Light to others.

Do they see Jesus in me?

I wish you all a blessed Lent.

Peace,
Liz

Forgotten Ones and Money Changers

Today's readings: Sirach 44: 1, 9-13 and Mark 11:11-26

Scripture is important to me. I feel like it can always help, comfort, or challenge us when we feel like our faith is becoming too comfortable. Today's scripture is interesting. The first one deals with people who are forgotten by history:

"Now will I praise those godly men,
our ancestors, each in his own time.
But of others there is no memory,
for when they ceased, they ceased.
And they are as though they had not lived,
they and their children after them.
Yet these also were godly men
whose virtues have not been forgotten;
Their wealth remains in their families,
their heritage with their descendants;
Through God’s covenant with them their family endures,
their posterity, for their sake.

And for all time their progeny will endure,
their glory will never be blotted out."

The first part of that passage hit a very particular chord with me this week. On Monday, my boyfriend and I ended our 6 month long relationship. I'll admit that I still don't understand why it ended, and it's going to take a little while for me to move on from it. The beginning of the passage reminded me of relationships that end. They can be your whole world one day, and the next...they completely cease to exist. I found this strange reality when I left college last May. The people I spent every single day of my life with suddenly picked up and moved all around the country. Lives can change in an instant, and even those who are your entire world can one day be nonexistant.

I don't mean to make this sound depressing, but it struck me in an interesting way today than it might have a few weeks ago. It reinforces for me even more strongly the constancy and universal steadfastness of God. All things in this world may pass away, but God never does. So, even if the first part of this reflection makes us sad, the greater reality is the steady nature of God...and that's worth thinking about.

The second reading is a pretty famous one because it's so uncharacteristic of Jesus. It's the one where he curses te fig tree and then flips over tables. Now, I really like this passage because it shows the humanity of Jesus and illustrates him as a person who is keenly aware of injustices and corruption. As a growing theologian with liberation theology tendencies from time to time, I really identify with this passage. Some people don't like it because it shows Jesus' anger, frustration, and violence. Though it's not my favorite depiction of him, I appreciate it because it shows us, the readers, that the earliest followers of Christ saw him as more than just a man, and more than just God. They saw sometone dynamic, relatable, and clearly full of wisdom. Jesus was pissed because the money changers were making a profit off of the public's religious devotion. That, my friends, is a glimpse into what can happen when people get in the way of the Spirit. We turn beautiful spirituality into a business opportunity, and then we wonder why Jesus was so mad. This passage is a really good reminder for me that my work for the Church should NEVER be about me, or my co-workers, or even about the financial needs of the organization. It's always about God. I think people in ministry can lose sight of that pretty easily, so we need readings like this to remind us of our true goal.

That's about it for today. Keep being open to experiences of the Holy.

Peace,
Liz