Forgive us our unbridled thoughts

Last night I dreamt that I met an old enemy at a restaurant. He was with his family. I sat beside them but he refused to acknowledge me. I took him aside and said, “I forgive you.”

Wow, that sure pissed him off. “What? What did you say to me?”

I replied, “Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?”

His rage was very satisfying.

I woke up thinking about forgiveness.

Have I ever forgotten a single offense? No. That’s the burden of possessing an eidetic memory for every negative event. I don’t know how to rewire my brain to make my opponents feel more comfortable. I don’t want to forget so I guess forgiveness is out, too. I let myself off the hook of that common social obligation. (I call it learning.)

We often call for victims to forgive their enemies. Says so in the Bible, too. However, that frequently serves the oppressor more than the oppressed. Offenders try to take a shortcut to salvation. Offering neither apologies nor recompense, they expect absolution. They place the burden of “moving on” where it does not belong. A consequence-free existence increases the chances they will offend again.

I will never demand that anyone forgive transgressions in the name of becoming more healthy. That’s up to each individual to decide for themselves.

If this post offends you, forgive me.

 


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2 Replies to “Forgive us our unbridled thoughts”

  1. I saw Eddie, a friend of the family’s son and my childhood tormentor, at a restaurant some years back. We were both adults in our 30s. I walked up to him and told him that he’d made every single visit from his family a living hell for me. He apologized and said that his own family life was terrible and he’d been lashing out in all directions. To him it was nothing personal. For me, it was hiding in the linen closet for hours until his family left our house. I can’t say I forgave him exactly, but there was a reckoning of sorts.

  2. Humans are mixed up beings. I have known men who I could trust beside me and who would potentially sacrifice their health and lives for others. Some of those men, I would never let near a sister of mine. Forgiveness is strange. Must I despise music using a440 as a basis for music? Must I hate George Washington for his treatment of slaves?

    Must I be a sucker because I forgive?

    A hunter can love animals, even be willing to sacrifice himself for an animal, and still be able to hunt. We are mixed up beings. Ideally I should be able to forgive Trump and still know that he and all with him should be behind bars.
    There are those who are suckers, who cannot forgive. Many of them cannot forgive offenses that their cult made up. Yet they will call for forgiveness over and over when their favorites are shown to be false.

    As a child I could forgive instantly. Time has gone by and I find that gift harder and harder to reach. Harder still is trust. In my youth it seemed clear that anyone reasonable would have kept Anne Frank’s location secret. Now, many of the people I grew up with would feel quite happy to divulge Anita Lopez’s location and celebrate as she and her parents were caged. I am having trouble forgiving that.

    Humans are mixed up beings.

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