Rage and Grace

Forgiveness, repentance, and putting the lessons of the monastery into practice...

A little snippet from when I was in the thick of it last night.

I have no outline for this.

It’s a free-form, off-the-cuff jazz performance.

I don’t know what I’m going to write, but I know what shouldn’t write.

Let me put it this way: I was betrayed by someone very recently. Someone I cautiously considered a friend, but who I should have known was unstable. Her actions caused me great personal harm and uncertainty in my immediate future. It reminded me once again that we believers have to find that delicate balance between radical, dangerous forgiveness, love, and all the God-breathed virtues, and basic prudence.

In other words, we need to learn how to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves, and we suck at it.

Come to think of it, Matthew 10:16 should be in the Top 5 most practical verses in the Bible. It’s one of those verses in which all the wisdom of the entire thing is present in one verse multi-dimensionally.

As a result of the betrayal, I need to make some big decisions immediately. Wait—No, I don’t need to decide. I know exactly what I need to do, but it’s going to take massive action with a high proportion of success. There’s just no other option.

This pisses me off, but at the same time, part of me knew it was coming. I didn’t know exactly what “it” was, but I knew a big change was coming, and it was probably good. All throughout the trial of the last 24 hours, I did know it was good—just not expected. I had vague hopes of something like…I don’t know…Elon Musk seeing my little publication and tweeting about it, thereby giving me a big break. Instead, I got a pumpkin trebuched into my groin.

But!

It’s good. It’s good because it propels me toward a goal I thought was at least eight months off.

A temptation arises. When this person betrayed me (for totally psychotic reasons, by the way), she handed me the means of causing harm to her reputation, and the reputation of those who bought her lies and punished me for them. If I simply mentioned what went down, I’d add kerosene to an already burning bonfire surrounding my betrayers.

“Betrayers.” “Betrayal.” Yes, I know these are dramatic terms that imply I’m somebody worthy of being betrayed. The word works, though. It was a stab in the back. A sucker punch. A kick to the groin.

Anyway…

This is where all this monastic (stuff) comes in to play. I could easily share a whole library of text messages that would burn down the people who just handed me a lot of uncertainty (to say the least), but I’ve been reading at trapeza (meal-time) at the monastery for at least a year. The central message of all of it?

Forgive. Forgive and repent.

Damn it.

It’s a requirement of any serious Christian—even when the other person or party isn’t remorseful. After nearly two years here, the fork in the road is crystal clear: One way is Satanic self-regard and self-asserting human pride; the other way is peace and grace.

I’ve already seen the result of the peace-and-grace path. My accuser started her day by accusing me of some things. (I’m not talking about my wife, by the way. She’s been pretty quiet lately). I told her to lay off on the accusations because she was an “ignorant psycho.” But then I walked it back a bit and just spoke to her. I suggested rather than accuse.

And then a miracle happened: she admitted she had been wrong.

No offense, ladies, but you have no idea how rare it is for a man to hear a woman admit she made a mistake…

I told her she should tell the person she encouraged to harm me about her mistake. She did so.

Nothing has changed yet. My. future is still very uncertain. And whenever I’m in this boat, I tend to go on the offensive. I plan. I begin to think of ways I can neutralize threats. If he/she/they do X, I’ll do Y. That kind of thing.

I’ve learned through much bitter experience that this way leads to death. It’s like they say about knife fights: in knife fights, there are no winners…

It leaves me with the horrible conclusion that the ONLY virtuous thing to do is forgive and repent of anything I’ve done.

I tell you—the virtuous life sucks. I don’t mean to say, “Oh, what a burden I bear for being virtuous!” I don’t. But I AM saying that at some point you have to go from the knowledge of fire to the experience of it. This is where most Christians fail, I think. They readily—eagerly—acknowledge the wisdom and admonitions of their faith, but they don’t LIVE it. It’s head knowledge, not heart knowledge.

Living the faith is so, so much harder

So, we’ll see what happens next. This is still a developing situation. I can share this, though:

The light was perfect on my prayer walk this morning. I mean, nearly unprecedented, and that’s saying something. Oklahoma monastic sunrises and sunsets will blow your mind.

The storms were beginning to drift away, both literally and figuratively. Toward the end of their passing, the rising sun burned through the rain toward the purple clouds to the west creating the most perfect conditions for a rainbow. In fact, being an amateur meteorologist and cosmologist, I headed in the direction of where I thought a rainbow might appear, and would you look at that? There it was—an undeniable reminder from God Himself that he’s still there. More than there—he’s here to help me through this trial.

So, as I snapped pics of the rainbow on the other side of the monastery gate, I knew that the time to move on had arrived.