Forgiveness

 

            Forgiveness.  Throughout many of my seminary readings – particularly Muller-Fahrenholz’s The Art of Forgiveness, this was the dominant theme.  Confession, reconciliation, and “re-membering” – all tools used to foster forgiveness. Avoiding the “spiral of revenge”, admitting our guilt, and seeking mediation – also critical in achieving forgiveness.  As I read through all of these wonderful ideas, took notes and pondered the issues of healing and peace in Israel, I kept thinking, “why can’t they just move forward?”  “Why can’t the Israelis and Palestinians agree to co-exist?”  “Instead of all the killing and anger and vitriol, use the tools and get the help and mediation. It’s been so long!” Over and over as I read of the struggles, I thought, “Why don’t they just make peace? Why can’t they forgive? I just don’t get it.”  Then I thought about Rick.

            Rick was the Pastor at the church we attended for eight years.  He was our pastor, our friend and confidante. Our families were friends and we all spent a good deal of time together over the years.  Rick was an inspiration – a man who could preach the word of God like none I had heard before. I knew I could learn from him – even though he was four years younger. How wonderful to be friends with someone who could teach me all the things I didn’t understand about God.  I absolutely loved him – as pastor and friend.

            I got very involved in church committees and worked hard. I enjoyed working with Rick and helping the ministry of the church. My husband too was involved and we were happy there.  All was well – until the day I challenged Rick.  He came back at me with such anger and condescension that I was floored. I couldn’t go to church for months. Finally I called him and we met for coffee and talked it through. We empathized with one another, “re-membered”, and expressed joy in reconciliation.  All was well – until I challenged him again. Or disagreed with him. Sometimes I would placate him to maintain a good relationship. Other times we’d battle. Each time I would be worn down and worried about our friendship.  At times the struggle was about whatever issue was at hand – other times it was just about the battle itself.  I couldn’t take it anymore. He suggested we get a mutual minister friend to mediate our differences. Looking back, I can’t believe how far it had gone.

            Our mediation session went so well. It had such an air of honesty. There was confession, clarification, admission of mutual guilt and even the “glow” of reconciliation and newness that we read about.  After two years, it was wonderful to be in right relationship (as Rick called it) again.  Then my Dad got sick – very sick. I went to Rick, and told him I wanted to trust him as Pastor to help me through, and that I just needed that reassurance from him that all was still going to be okay as we had “glowingly” discussed. His response was that if I had any question as to his pastoral ability, that I should report him to the Regional UCC Association.  I was stunned and devastated. I was also done trying.  The next day, my husband told Rick we were leaving the church, that he needed help as a person and pastor, and that he needed to learn to respect women. Rick was devastated and hugged my husband – crying – as my husband left. 

            I called Rick from the hospital the day of Dad’s surgery. I said I couldn’t face whatever would happen with a sense of resentment in the air. He said he had no ill will and never did. I said it was me that needed to forgive him – so that I could move forward.  As my dad lay in surgery, Rick tried to engage me in a conversation about why we were leaving the church, and how he didn’t understand.  I was done debating, and said it really wasn’t something we should get into. He then accused me of really just calling him in order to keep myself busy.  I ended the call politely. We never spoke again.

            It took me months to realize it, but I lied to Rick that day. I didn’t forgive him. I haven’t forgiven him yet. In truth, I hate him. It is a horrible, un-Godly, un-Christian, un-Seminarian, un-peacemaker (you name it), thing to say – but it is true.  For two years he used me, and my family when he needed something.  He’d asked me to lie for him, and I did. He wanted me to take on a project, I did.  He crossed every line and boundary of pastor and friend and then denied any wrongdoing. The final blow was when I found out he had violated our pastor/parishioner confidence several times to different people on several issues. The final betrayal. I step back now and I see the manipulation and I understand how some of it happened. I also accept responsibility for participating.  But I have not forgiven.

It’s been almost five years since I’ve gone to a church – I don’t know if I will ever attend one again. I cringe when I hear someone say that they are a minister.  What did Gopin say in his readings about avoiding Palestinians? I avoid pastors.   I have no confidence or trust in clergy of any kind. Admitting my guilt? Did it. Reconciliation? Did it. Loved it. Didn’t last. Mediation? Great idea. Didn’t work.  Forgiveness?  Not this time. I tried that already, and the scars are too deep.  I will never forgive Rick. 

In the beginning of this piece I talked – almost condescendingly – of how easy it would be if everyone just put aside his or her differences. Jews and Palestinians – people of other warring nations.  Then I remembered Rick and realized my hypocrisy. My little 2-year battle with my pastor is a grain of sand compared to the years of hatred, enmity, mistrust and bitterness endured by both Jews and Palestinians.  I can’t even begin to understand their pain.  I probably never will.  As to their inability – their lack of willingness even – to try and forgive?

I get it.