Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.

-- R. Burns Epistle to a Young Friend

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

The Gates of Hell



So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’  He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt. -- Matthew 18:29-30


Last night as I was cutting grass, I started thinking about an event that I may attend this weekend.  If I do there is a possibility that I will run into some people with whom I had a negative encounter several years ago.  These people literally got me thrown in jail.  I was in a holding cell for all of twenty minutes, but it was still a humiliating experience, and the way it was done wounded me.  These were, I should mention, ordained ministers in a solidly Reformed denomination.  I think their justification was that I was something of a bully.  That is, I am not easily manipulated and am rather resentful of any attempt to manipulate me.  I consider manipulation a form of witchcraft. 

So, this man of God and his “submissive” wife, along with a couple of other people, accosted me in my yard one evening with a number of accusations.  The wife, in particular, was shrill and abusive.  I took it for a little while, but when they refused to leave, instead of going in the house and locking the door as I should have, I questioned their ancestry, sexual habits, and the legitimacy of their parents’ marriage rites.   I was still off the leash when a patrol car rolled up to the curb.  One of their other confederates had called in a disturbance.  The woman who had been confronting me so viciously suddenly broke into tears – this is a preacher’s wife, remember – and swore that I had threated her.  Her Greek chorus backed her claim, and I was handcuffed and shoved in the back of the cruiser.  It cost me a lot of time and trouble and good money to get it resolved without too much damage. 

As I was mowing, I was recalling all this and thinking what I might say if I ran into this fine, upstanding Christian couple and their family.  They are such self-satisfied, self-righteous prigs that I would not be surprised – if they remember and recognize me – for them to tell me they forgive me for all I did to them.  In my mind, I ran through a scenario like that, and I considered how I might react, what I might say.  After a bit, the words that came to mind were pretty disturbing:  I would volunteer to burn in hell if it was my job to grind your filthy face into the coals. 

You would think, after all these years, my hatred would be not so white-hot.  The unforgiving servant was so determined to “get his own” that he forgot about his own master’s mercy.  He was willing to forgo forgiveness in order to get revenge.   Same as me. 

I had to wonder if my refusal to forgive and my craving for retribution for more than a decade have not contributed to my touchiness and bouts of depression.  I would like to say I had completely forgotten those who offended me, but I had merely pushed them out of sight.  I blamed myself – and I was certainly wrong to explode the way I did.  Predictably explode, I might add.  It caused me to question the reality of my Christianity.  Only now -- looking back, am I able to more easily agree with the assessment my late, dear mother-in-law voiced as I was being shackled – that they had set me up.  Assuming that it was my fault entirely, I preferred not to think about it at all.  Probably, if I went through the details and a little of the background, I could make an even stronger case justifying my response.  One exchange in particular was extremely provocative.  That serves no purpose and does me no good.  It doesn’t solve my problem. 

In the end there is, to paraphrase Yoda, only forgive or not forgive.  There is only a burning resentment so intense that the fires of hell hold little terror, or release.  I have sought another option.  It does not exist.  Therefore I forgive.   

If I did happen, on some odd chance, run into this nemesis, and, if they were to offer me forgiveness, I will humbly accept it.  If they did not offer, I would ask.  As far as I am concerned, they are forgiven.  I prayed several times last night and several times already today that they would be blessed and their lives filled with happiness.  It's bless or burn.  I'll keep doing it until it is easy.

When they had passed the first and the second guard, they came to the iron gate leading into the city.  It opened for them of its own accord, and they went out and went along one street, and immediately the angel left him (Acts 12:10).

7 comments:

Rick said...

Wonderful story, Mush, thank you.

They know not what they do. This perspective on the affairs of men is a pain-reliever.
Your reward waits for you. They've gotten theirs.

And besides, they might surprise you.

We've had some bad storms here the past couple of years. During the last one a large tree in my neighbors yard broke in half (split down the middle) and fell halfway in to my yard. It was way in the back but it was there knocked down for quite awhile. The part that was in his yard was worse than what was in mine. I mean he had the stump broken twenty feet up and the busted end. One half a tree so the whole rest of it needed to come down. A few months go by and I see he's hired a guy to take it down. Bucket-truck type effort so, not cheap. After a couple of days the tree cutter leaves and he has only removed the tree that extends to the stone wall that separates our property. I mean, the guy ran the chain saw right along the stone wall like he measured it and alls I has is the top half of a huge tree in my yard. What good is that?!
I don't know what the law or unwritten law is on these things. As things go it's probably my fault. But the guy said nothing, had a chipper there and could have taken care of it.

I thought to try an experiment. I'm going to clean it up and I'm not going to say a thing. Hell, if I see him, I'll apologize for not getting to it.

About a month later, I see it's all cleaned up. The guy had pulled the branches over to his side. Pulled them to his side.

mushroom said...

I like that pulling the branches to his side. It's a great metaphor.

And you're right -- I confess to having tears in my eyes. I said, "They don't know what they do" out loud, and I started crying. Thanks.

julie said...

Powerful stories, both.

On forgiveness, it occurred to me once a few years ago that maybe for some offenses a good way to think of it really is as a debt in a ledger.

Forgive us our debts...

In this way, one does not have to like the other person, nor even embrace them in any particular way. One simply need say, "You owe me nothing."

I also, often, find myself praying that such folk will be opened to the truth - that they may find genuine redemption. Of course, if I'm being honest I must admit that there's a tinge of sadism in the thought, if only because any person finding redemption is likely to find the truth of himself excruciating...

John Lien said...

For what it's worth. I believe your version of the story.

You're right. You have no choice but to forgive them. For your sake at the very least.

What's the worst that can happen? You apologize, they don't and your apology makes them feel that they were right all along. Hoo boy! That would hurt! But it would be powerful medicine. It would help bring God's Kingdom to earth.

(I'm not sure I could do it.)

Of course, if I'm being honest I must admit that there's a tinge of sadism in the thought, if only because any person finding redemption is likely to find the truth of himself excruciating...

I'm with ya Sis!

mushroom said...

The ledger's good. Do a write-off, or as the credit card companies say, a charge-off. It's the interest that does all the damage.

Rick said...

Re debts, met my new favorite expression the other day on Ace about allowing someone to live rent free in your brain.
Don't allow it!

Rick said...

One other thing, I think it's important to clarify that "the experiment" was conducted on me, not on my neighbor. I wasn't testing him, I was testing me -- just to see what would happen to me. Turns out, once it was decided, it never bothered me that I was going to clean it up. The fact that my neighbor "surprised me" was just a bonus.