Isaiah 1: 18 “Come now, let us settle the matter,”
says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.’”
***
It is easy to forgive someone when they are dead, literally or metaphorically.
If you remove someone from your life, move countries, or they actually pass away, with time, your anger at whatever they did diminishes, you accept their weaknesses, and the events that happened feel more like a story than reality.
Well, at least for me.
But if I see you, and I remember the wickedness that occurred and the current lack of remorse, I struggle to forgive, and the feeling of injustice overwhelms me.
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Matthew 18: 21-22 “Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”
***
God is supposed to be so forgiving, but what about the Deluge, I ask? What about the biblical Flood?
God decided that humanity, and he created this problem by himself, btw, was wicked. He did not consider sending a trained team of celestial therapists to talk to them. No, he decided to drown them all and see what happens next.
Only one man was righteous; only one person was deemed worthy of survival. Perhaps we could call Noah God’s favourite person.
Everyone else was judged, and God’s vengeance was sent upon them.
It must have been so lonely to be the one righteous man. Knowing that if you only did something to anger the almighty God, the same fate would be bestowed on you and your family.
Finally, God gets over it and brings peace to the world. Even better, it is promised that the world will not be flooded ever again.
There was judgement, revenge, and punishment, and when everything was destroyed, and then and only then was there serenity and hope.
***
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Jeremiah 31: 34 “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.”
***
But of course, everything changes in the New Testament, and God decides that vengeance is not cool anymore and that forgiveness is what we all should do now.
We are not invading our enemies and making their wives our slaves; we forgive them regardless of how wicked they are.
They can keep going and doing their trespasses, and you have to look at them and smile.
***
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Matthew 6:14-15 – For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
***
Maybe Father should not forgive all of my trespasses.
I honestly don’t think they were that bad, though—most of the time.
Or do I fool myself and not want to condemn the old me because I feel for her?
For most of my life, I have lived in the shadow of the person I wanted to be, not accepting my weaknesses and limitations. This fueled me to action, and maybe sometimes, my actions were ruthless, but I was so blinded by ambition that I did not always care to see the consequences.
I guess that is maturity. These days, I tend to think a lot about the possible aftermath of my actions and inaction, and it is hard for me to relate to people who do not stop and do that. As I said, it is hard for me to forgive at times.
***
***
There is a power in forgetting.
You only have to forgive if it still hurts you, but our brains are built to preserve us, not to make us high celestial beings.
That is one of the reasons why I sometimes gave myself permission in the past not to work hard on forgiving others. I simply know that my brain and focus will move on, and I have the limited mental capacity and memory of a goldfish.
But I am only human, and things become more challenging if someone constantly reminds me of themselves. I think it is almost always a choice; you can remove yourself from nearly every situation, but what if you don’t want to make this choice?
What if it is the father of your children, a close friend of your friend, or a relative who will always be there unless you cut them off, removing a compartment of your life that might be precious to you?
What if they still blame you to cover their own guilt or even feel that what hurt you deeply was funny in a way?
What if they even apologise, but you know they did it only because they were forced and to make sure it is recorded that they said the official sorry?
What if you see they will most likely never become better people?
What if you even suspect that the memory of what they did to you gives them pleasure or satisfaction?
I am not talking here about extreme cases, like the trial of Dominique Pelicot and 50 other rapists.
At least Gisèle Pelicot could hand over her revenge to the justice system. She is also beyond any moral judgment, an apparent victim of someone’s sick mind.
But what about less sick minds, less clear victims, less disgusting offences?
Just everyday exploitation, manipulation, and hurt. These things can ruin your life, but no one can send anyone to court over broken hearts and angry, frustrated tears.
***
***
I have been re-reading Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, yes, here we go with another Russian novel.
For me, it is a book about forgiveness. It contains three remarkable stories of broken families reunited by forgiving offences.
The first one, at the novel’s beginning, is about Dolly and Stiva Oblonsky, a married couple in their thirties with too many children to count. Stiva feels like he is in his prime, while his wife’s beauty withered with years and born children (born for him, let us not forget about this minor detail).
Stiva and Dolly are initially both happy and delusional. Stiva considers himself excused from being faithful because he is still handsome and energetic, and nobody can expect him not to exploit this (i.e., fornicate with ballet girls and kids’ private teachers). Dolly thinks she married a kind, loving man who would never look around. She devotes herself to children and the household, which, in her mind, is enough to keep a husband happy.
You can say that their mindsets and understanding of reality and lifestyles could not be different. They could only maintain this marriage as long as they kept this facade.
And of course, Dolly finds a letter Stiva wrote to one of his lovers one day. Her world collapses.
Even for a modern woman, it would be challenging to leave overnight a man who is the only provider and father of your six children, with whom you have many familial ties, who lives under the same roof, and who has been with your whole life since you were terribly young.
Cheating is not always black and white. If you stop loving someone and want to be with others, you should leave them, but Stiva could not do that since he had to support his kids. He did owe Dolly honesty, though. He also knew she did not have the same freedom he did, and the whole system was unjust and cruel towards women.
Imagine how it felt for a Russian lady two hundred years ago to face this choice.
Dolly is in despair and disbelief, and Stiva’s behaviour in the aftermath of the whole reveal does not help.
He is still in good health, surrounded by friends, and seemingly always in high spirits.
Everyone considered Stiva a good friend and a decent person. He always had a kind word for everyone around him. Being sweet and friendly did not cost him much, as society constantly reassured him that he was on top of the world, adored, and beautiful.
Nothing irritated Dolly more than that. She could now see through him his rotten morality and selfishness behind this worldly adoration. She knew that whatever she did, whether she forgave him or not, his life would remain joyful.
And she would be miserable and discarded.
Finally, after a long conversation with Stiva’s sister, Anna Karenina, who seemed like the epitome of all goodness and grace, Dolly decides to forgive and live as if nothing happened. She was persuaded, maybe even forced in a loving, subtle way to do it.
She faces her life in its reality – her husband will remain unfaithful, her world will revolve around her children, and everyone will always require her to sacrifice herself.
And she has to make peace with this decision.
***
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Psalm 94:1-2: “The Lord is a God who avenges. O God who avenges, shine forth. Rise up, Judge of the earth; pay back to the proud what they deserve.”
***
Dolly had a choice, even if it seemed like an impossible choice.
She could have hardened her heart and never forgiven, lived alongside a selfish man who did not desire her anymore and slowly poisoned his life.
It is a terrible choice, and almost no one would advise her to do that.
But is being sacrificial really that admirable? Is it not better to stand up for yourself and do something even objectively wrong to feel like you can have power over people who do not respect you?
I spoke with many of my friends recently about forgiveness, and almost everyone said that you need to do it for yourself and take away the power from the person who still bothers you about what they did in the past.
That you should let love win, and I agree with that mostly.
However, I still feel like my soul craves justice, especially where there is no remorse. Unfortunately, most people do not feel remorse for what they did to you unless they want something from you.
Forgiveness might be a grace from God, like faith. You either feel it or not; it is hard to force it.
I forgive in a way where I do not seek revenge or payback because I know it is pointless. I distance myself mentally from a person if I know that they do not feel sorry for what they did and that I cannot force them to become better people.
But I wish I could say I can love my enemies, as Jesus told us to do.
Maybe one day, I will grow to do that. Maybe one day, it will be a choice for me, not just a natural process of forgetting.
At the end of the day, what matters is how you feel about your choice, not what choice you make. I will work on ensuring I can stick to that decision, feel it in my bones, and that it genuinely indicates my love toward myself.
***
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Let Us Hurry
by Jan Twardowski
Let us hurry to love people; they depart so quickly,
leaving only shoes and a silent telephone.
What’s unimportant drags like a cow on a lead,
but the most important things happen in a flash.
Then comes the silence, unbearably normal,
like purity born plainly from despair,
when we think of someone, finding ourselves without them.
Don’t be so sure you have time, for certainty is uncertain,
and it steals our sensitivity just as all happiness does,
coming together like pathos and humor,
like two passions, both weaker than one.
They depart so quickly, like thrushes in July,
like a clumsy sound or a dry gesture,
to truly see, they close their eyes –
though even the biggest ones are useless when the moment comes,
a bit bigger than a holiday, yet only ours.
