I love House, but not tonight.  I am watching Foreman die.  Foreman the neurologist, the young, successful, fearless doctor.  His father, a pastor, is paying him a visit to tell him that he does not want him to be afraid, but Foreman is terrified and desperate. You can see it in his eyes, fear, anger, resentment, pain. I watch the exchange with reservation, I do not want to see what I already know.   A man of presumably great faith is trying to impress upon his son, a man whose cynicism imprisons him, that he should pray.  For those of us who have been through Steeper Steps, we recognize these characters as Justice and Mercy.

A little later in the show Foreman attempts an apology to his colleague Cameron after stealing her article, publishing it under his own name and then purposefully stabbing her with a needle thereby exposing her to the same lethal virus that is killing him.  Cameron stares coolly at him and says, “No. You are dying and that is the only reason you want to set things right.”   It sounds an awful lot like the conversation in The Sunflower, where we revisit the theme of justice and mercy.  Or rather, it sounds like what I wished Simon would have said to the Nazi soldier on his deathbed.  I cannot stop thinking about forgiveness.  It haunts me day and night the way it haunts Simon Wiesenthal.  Jean Valjean, the Sermon on the Mount, Alexander, the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  Over and over again we see the paths set before us.  They are, as Javert puts them, “Equally straight, yet contradictory.”  Do we decide to follow the route of legalism cloaked in righteousness or the lonely difficult road to forgiveness?

Why bother with such a gut wrenching endeavor that probably won’t end well?  I have ask myself this question many times over the past weeks.  People may misconstrue my intentions, there are those who don’t think they have to be forgiven and some of the people on my list sure as heck don’t deserve it.  I think of my Steeper Steps group.  Why would we dedicate almost four weeks to dissecting our emotions like this?  Mark 11:26 “But if you don’t forgive, neither will your Father in heaven forgive your wrongdoing.”   I  judge myself to be naive if I choose obedience above my feelings, but that is my pride telling me that my feelings are more important than my faith.  If I choose to forgive because my salvation depends on it, does the right decision make it any easier to do? If Simon forgave Karl so that God would forgive him would that be enough to wash away the blood of millions of innocent Jews?  If obedience is the beginning, what is the end? Is it the freedom of Valjean who could release his knife from the neck of his enemy with a clean heart? Or, am I, like Mary Gordon, slaving away in this hot kitchen of self-pity because it’s easier to sympathize with a victim?

Yes.  This feeling of self-pity is cozy, like a favorite pair of worn out zories.  Like Foreman being more comfortable hating his father than loving him.  Like walking undistracted on a pilgrimage instead of loving thy neighbor.  Therein lies the contradiction.  My decision to forgive, though solely based on God’s command and initially harder than holding on to anger, releases me completely from the ropes that tether me to resentment.  It frees me, not you.  It cleans my heart without absolving you of your guilt.  I’m ready to be free.

To my Karl S.

I realize this may not be the way either of us envisioned our lives and for what it’s worth, I know I’m not the only one who is hurt by it all.  I forgive you for all of it, even the parts that you think I couldn’t possibly forgive.  I harbor no ill will against you and pray that you find peace in your own heart. 

Sincerely,

Boni

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• Jean Valjean: Forgiveness Can Change Your Life (readingremy.com)
• Forgive. To pardon an offense. To cease to feel resentment against. (askinsaneelaine.com)
• Forgiveness (bestquotesayings.wordpress.com)