January 18, 2006
Forgiveness
- From thirty feet away, I saw him as I stepped out into the daylight.
He walked with lingering, pained steps; his pace unsteady as though he could collapse at any moment. His face, full of despair and sorrow, as though he had held paradise itself in his hands and tossed it away. And there he walked, staggered, and looked at his hands as though there were something there, perhaps something too small to be seen from a distance. His face twisted with agony, and he looked up to the sky, hands raised as if to give his life to the fates and then fell to his knees, screaming out a silent sob and collapsing to the floor.
- I saw this from thirty feet away. The thought occured to me that I might go to him and help him. My exact decision I don't recall, but it was probably the case that my own mood was so dour that I wouldn't have been able to help his much at all.
And I walked away, and saw him, still on his knees, body flung forward across the ground; a rag doll turned lifeless by the cruel fates, or perhaps by his own hand and mistake. I know not whether I imagined it, but I recall his heaving breaths, and were I closer I probably would have heard his ragged, choking sobs. Just then, he raised his head again, face grief-stricken as before, towards a girl walking to him.
She went to him and pulled him to his feet. She looked into his pitiful eyes and did nothing but pull him close and held him. He sobbed against her shoulder, and then they were out of sight.
- I thought to myself, "What a lucky guy", to have even just one friend as good as her.
- Unconditional forgiveness. It is a blessing to have friends who will not first ask why it is I am pained, but simply sit and listen to me describe it. I've made mistakes, I made a mistake, and I'm sure I will make many more to come. But were it not for my friends to have been there for me, many times I could have worsened my plight (worse than it already is/was?), and surely would not have the clarity of mind I currently do.
A humble servant looked into the eyes of his unwilling god and begged, "Please forgive me my sins. Will you please forgive me god?"
And the little god, thrust into this role he neither desired nor understood, did not know what to do. He was no god; what did his forgiveness mean? He was in no power to give forgiveness, much as he wished he could, and so could think of nothing to say but, "Forgive you for what?" And the servant shuddered, his last words lingering in the air, "Everything." In his hesitation, the little god watched the servant, his unwanted servant, fade into the abyss with a face that yearned for more.
Or perhaps, the little god paused. He knew not what to say, much as he knew not the reason for this man before him. This self-declared servant worshipped the unwilling god for an unknown reason, wanting nothing more than to serve and to love, and to be loved by his gods in return. And the little god, or perhaps just a man thrust into a situation beyond his control, said simply, "I forgive you."
Later on, the unfortunate man would speak to a friend and relate the story. "I barely knew him, and yet my word was his law, his reality. His life passed and yet he looked as though he were asleep, dreaming of paradise."
And his friend replied, "I can not think of a better way to pass on. In the presence of your gods, loved, cherished, and forgiven for all past transgressions; free to move on to the next world without the baggage of the past."
The prodigal son took his inheritance and left. "I need to be free, I need to learn of the world on my own. I no more need your advice, your help, or you, and leave only with what I am deserved. I leave here today to prove to you that I shall never want from you again."
The prodigal son returned home. He intended to prostrate himself before the house of his father, his family, and repent. "I deserve nothing," he would cry, "I took all you let me have, I squandered your gifts, I squandered the upbringing you gave me, and not only have I brought shame upon me, I have brought shame upon this house and upon you. I deserve not to look upon you again except to proclaim my worthlessness. Let the pigs trample upon me, and allow me to live my life protecting the mud from the droppings of the cows."
As he approached the house and prepared to beg for his life, his father came up to him silently and held him close; the father held his son in his arms, and said nothing. He picked up the frail body of his second child, who had left him just a year before. Into the home he was taken, washed, bandaged, given a change of clothes and fed a full meal. Nary a word was spoken by the father, and the son lay as though lifeless, sobbing.
"It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad; for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found."
- Forgiveness.
Whether or not it's deserved, I can't be sure, but every single person craves it as much as life itself.
He walked with lingering, pained steps; his pace unsteady as though he could collapse at any moment. His face, full of despair and sorrow, as though he had held paradise itself in his hands and tossed it away. And there he walked, staggered, and looked at his hands as though there were something there, perhaps something too small to be seen from a distance. His face twisted with agony, and he looked up to the sky, hands raised as if to give his life to the fates and then fell to his knees, screaming out a silent sob and collapsing to the floor.
- I saw this from thirty feet away. The thought occured to me that I might go to him and help him. My exact decision I don't recall, but it was probably the case that my own mood was so dour that I wouldn't have been able to help his much at all.
And I walked away, and saw him, still on his knees, body flung forward across the ground; a rag doll turned lifeless by the cruel fates, or perhaps by his own hand and mistake. I know not whether I imagined it, but I recall his heaving breaths, and were I closer I probably would have heard his ragged, choking sobs. Just then, he raised his head again, face grief-stricken as before, towards a girl walking to him.
She went to him and pulled him to his feet. She looked into his pitiful eyes and did nothing but pull him close and held him. He sobbed against her shoulder, and then they were out of sight.
- I thought to myself, "What a lucky guy", to have even just one friend as good as her.
- Unconditional forgiveness. It is a blessing to have friends who will not first ask why it is I am pained, but simply sit and listen to me describe it. I've made mistakes, I made a mistake, and I'm sure I will make many more to come. But were it not for my friends to have been there for me, many times I could have worsened my plight (worse than it already is/was?), and surely would not have the clarity of mind I currently do.
A humble servant looked into the eyes of his unwilling god and begged, "Please forgive me my sins. Will you please forgive me god?"
And the little god, thrust into this role he neither desired nor understood, did not know what to do. He was no god; what did his forgiveness mean? He was in no power to give forgiveness, much as he wished he could, and so could think of nothing to say but, "Forgive you for what?" And the servant shuddered, his last words lingering in the air, "Everything." In his hesitation, the little god watched the servant, his unwanted servant, fade into the abyss with a face that yearned for more.
Or perhaps, the little god paused. He knew not what to say, much as he knew not the reason for this man before him. This self-declared servant worshipped the unwilling god for an unknown reason, wanting nothing more than to serve and to love, and to be loved by his gods in return. And the little god, or perhaps just a man thrust into a situation beyond his control, said simply, "I forgive you."
Later on, the unfortunate man would speak to a friend and relate the story. "I barely knew him, and yet my word was his law, his reality. His life passed and yet he looked as though he were asleep, dreaming of paradise."
And his friend replied, "I can not think of a better way to pass on. In the presence of your gods, loved, cherished, and forgiven for all past transgressions; free to move on to the next world without the baggage of the past."
The prodigal son took his inheritance and left. "I need to be free, I need to learn of the world on my own. I no more need your advice, your help, or you, and leave only with what I am deserved. I leave here today to prove to you that I shall never want from you again."
The prodigal son returned home. He intended to prostrate himself before the house of his father, his family, and repent. "I deserve nothing," he would cry, "I took all you let me have, I squandered your gifts, I squandered the upbringing you gave me, and not only have I brought shame upon me, I have brought shame upon this house and upon you. I deserve not to look upon you again except to proclaim my worthlessness. Let the pigs trample upon me, and allow me to live my life protecting the mud from the droppings of the cows."
As he approached the house and prepared to beg for his life, his father came up to him silently and held him close; the father held his son in his arms, and said nothing. He picked up the frail body of his second child, who had left him just a year before. Into the home he was taken, washed, bandaged, given a change of clothes and fed a full meal. Nary a word was spoken by the father, and the son lay as though lifeless, sobbing.
"It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad; for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found."
- Forgiveness.
Whether or not it's deserved, I can't be sure, but every single person craves it as much as life itself.
# posted by Yann : 22:00
