Monthly Archives: February 2017

Forgiveness

Following on from yesterday, this morning I read this: “I am not yet ready for my heart to soften, I am not yet ready to be vulnerable again, not yet ready to see that there is humanity in my tormentor’s eyes, or that the one who hurt me may also have cried.”
*From Desmond and Mpho Tutu’s The Book of Forgiving (William Collins)*
and so I wrote this….

Did any of you cry?
I’m pretty sure some of you didn’t.
There was a profound lack of empathy;
Few waves reached me here.

I have heard of the human spark in some of you:
One ‘didn’t look at all happy’,
Another tells a tale of sleeplessness,
But mostly there was silence.

And I who read a lot of silence
Have struggled to read this
Because I am hurt and rejected:
your silences feel hard and  cruel.

So, although I can be vulnerable
In other places with different people,
I am not yet ready to be vulnerable again
With what I once considered my spiritual family.

Maybe the humanity I encounter
Beyond the hard edges of the church
Will be the catalyst
that softens my heart again.

On our hearts and on our homes
The Blessing of God
On our school and on our working
The Help of God
In our coming and our going
The Peace of God
In our life and our believing
The Love of God

Confused?

The word ‘confession’ shares several letters with the word ‘confusion’, so as one confused I’ll start there. I decided I was confused when during worship this morning we were urged to consider confession and forgiveness. Well, it was a church, so maybe that’s not too surprising.
The gospel story was about a woman ‘take in adultery’, a somewhat old fashioned phrase for an activity that takes two at least. You might wonder if this story is ever heard at the chapel door, but it is. A few years ago, a young woman who had survived a sexual assault told me that ‘If I was going to give a sermon it would be about that one where he says ‘anyone who has not sinned can throw the first stone’: that one’. It was an interesting comment from someone who had been under the age of 16 at the time of the assault, not a woman but a child, a victim a survivor. Of course there are many silences in the story recorded in the gospel as well.
And in most situations where the call is for forgiveness and confession there are also a lot of silences, which bring me back to confusion. Who should I forgive? What should I confess? I have a lot of things going round in my heard but mostly I’m confused. I’m told God will forgive me, but my experience is that like Zaccheus, I have been forgiven before I even thought of asking (note that Zach entertains Jesus to tea before he, Zach, makes any public statement of putting right past wrongs, and it’s Jesus who invites himself to tea, not Zach who initiates the tea thing).
I’ve heard folks say it can help a person feel better to forgive others, but as far as my own situation is concerned, God does not seem to require this of me, at least not yet. Understanding the depth of my hurt, God just stays with me. With so much silence surrounding the events themselves and no one much taking any responsibility for them, I still feel in limbo. The situation is unresolved. Should I forgive someone for sending me a poorly worded email for example and if so how?Am I forgiving an individual or a post holder who was doing a job on behalf of others that none of those involved had fully thought about? Where does the forgiveness start and what is my part in it? How will I record my forgiveness? I’m pretty sure the email is long gone in the memory of most, along with the reports, the inconsistencies, the insensitivity, the lack or truth or transparency, the poor leadership, and the silence of the bystanders who still don’t know what to say. I wonder if this will not change until the silence is broken somehow but I’m confused about how and where that happens.
Forgiveness is complicated so its no wonder confession and confusion seem to be linked. I don’t want to be dragging stuff along with me for ever but neither do I feel that brushing it all away or ignoring the hurting is a good idea. Whilst there is silence there is still something unresolved. Forgiveness implies an ongoing relationship. At the moment I don’t think I have one with those who caused the hurt. So I’ll remain confused at least for now.
There’s confusion in the gospel too. Zach stands at the bottom of the tree and the neighbours must be confused. Jesus writes on the ground with the stick when the woman is accused. We don’t know what he wrote, which is a bit confusing.
After the service we were offered bubbles to blow. At least that’s not confusing. I blew my bubbles and felt, as they floated away, that I’d aired the subject.

In our life and our believing
The love of God.

All the baptised

I read a tweet that said ‘Church unity is the responsibility of all the baptised’.
Great, I thought: another one to add to the church this afternoon when we celebrate the Sacrament of Baptism for Jacob, who is 5 years old.
I’ll suggest he joins a Church Unity Commission straight away.
That’s the problem with unity; it has a musty smell and is reminiscent of stale biscuits. More 5 year olds doing Christian Unity would be a great thing. Too much of the time we think these things are just for adults.
This is a false idea. The church is all of us. It’s not about waiting until some of us are more grown up before we take our place. We already have a place: remember that.
The children and young people with whom I work are the Church now and for most of them these division in the Church and ‘different sorts of Christians’ is unfathomable. They just get on with following Jesus where they are alongside each other. To most of them denominational labels have less meaning than the sort of biscuits they prefer.
This afternoon, I shall ask him ‘Do you want to follow Jesus?’ not ‘and shall we dress like this, and meet at these times and say these words only, and let only these people do this, and exclude these ones and make these rules and so on and so on and so on. I realised years ago that once again I’d ‘gone native’ with them. But it makes sense to me too. The wide appeal of Messy Church points to it: make it messy, keep it simple, welcome everyone.
We are doing Christian Unity already, every day. As usual its taking the adults a while to catch up.

In our life and our believing
The Love of God.

Passing the same gritter twice

A fox slipped under the gate,
having crossed the high street,
brush sweeping the floor;
Street lights made orange pools,
reflected back in random puddles.
I took the climb, the switchback
up to the top and then down;
darker here, lights up
no visible eyes shone back at me.
The return journey was just as dark,
but no critter to leave its mark:
the night I passed the same gritter,
twice!

In our coming and our going,
The Peace of God.