Forgiveness Requires Courage

A blog posting from Fr. Alexis Trader, Orthodox monastic, on his website: https://ancientchristianwisdom.wordpress.com/2014/07/08/forgiveness-requires-courage/

July 8, 2014  

Anyone who has experienced forgiving another human being recognizes that the act of loosening our grip and extending our hand that has recently been bitten requires courage, courage to act like Christ when our impulses drive us to act like wounded beasts. We know this on an experiential, intuitive level. Psychologists, however, have confirmed that fact in their study of forgiveness.

In his dissertation, John W. Beiter writes, “Thoresen (2001) highlighted that forgiveness was difficult, demanding and requiring courage.” Courage can be defined as a willingness and ability to face fear, pain, danger, uncertainty, hardship, death, or public disapproval. Courage is also required in order to let go of anger and the desire for revenge when one has been wronged or offended by another, to leave behind the dog-eat-dog world where we usually live, and to step into the unfamiliar terrain of the Gospel of Christ.

That forgiveness requires courage means that forgiveness is not a moral calculation or a balance on the scales of justice. Courage means we leave those calculations and balances on the side. Courage is required to forgive our brother without reflecting upon whether he deserves it. Forgiveness is, moreover, a courageous act of love that requires patience. Saint Ephraim the Syrian once said, “The life of the righteous was radiant. How did it become radiant if it wasn’t by patience? Love patience, O monk, as the mother of courage.” Patience in keeping God’s commandments provides the courage to do so in times of trial and temptation.

How is courage linked to forgiveness? In so far that it takes courage to be a Christian, in so far that it takes courage to be a person of faith, in so far that it takes courage to be obedient to the Gospel of Christ in a world that runs on the basis of other laws and criteria, it requires courage to forgive. After all, Saint Paul described the Christian as a courageous warrior of light: “Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:13-17). Is courage useful in forgiveness? In so far as it is linked to doing all to stand, meaning doing all to be bearers of the fruits of the Holy Spirit, “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, benevolence, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control” (Galatians 5:23), courage is undoubtedly most useful for those who long to forgive.

Consider for a moment, the absence of courage. In such a condition is forgiveness even possible? Saint Isaac the Syrian writes in Homily 40, “Faintness of heart is a sign of despondency, and negligence is the mother of both. A cowardly man shows that he suffers from two diseases: love of his flesh and lack of faith; for love of one’s flesh is a sign of unbelief. But he who despises the love of the flesh proves that he believes in God with his whole heart and awaits the age to come. . . A courageous heart and scorn of perils comes from one of two causes: either from hardness of heart or from great faith in God. Pride accompanies hardness of heart, but humility accompanies faith. A man cannot acquire hope in God unless he first does His will with exactness. For hope in God and manliness of heart are born of the testimony of the conscience, and by the truthful testimony of the mind we possess confidence towards God.”

Saint Isaac makes the important point that Christian courage is the courage of the humble and soft-hearted, not the courage of the proud and hard-hearted. To have a humble and soft-heart after being wounded requires more courage than the most lion-hearted soldier, a super-human courage that can only be attained and sustained through faith and hope in God. To stop nursing one’s wounds and to start turning to God are acts of courage that are also antecedents to forgiveness, turning to our neighbors and nursing their wounds. The notions of courage, faith, hope, patience and a strengthened heart are expressed most beautifully in psalm 26: “I believe that I shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; be thou manful, and let thy heart be strengthened, and wait on the Lord.”

Since forgiveness is central to the Christian life, courage is an indispensable virtue. It is not possible to live the Christian life without the heroic courage of the righteous. Saint John Chrysostom remarks, “Sin makes man a coward; but a life in the Truth of Christ makes Him bold” (St. John Chrysostom, On the Statues, VIII. 2).

The more we forgive, the more courage we gather within our heart which in turn makes it easier to forgive the next time, and the time after that, and seventy-times seven that follow. When we begin living according to a life in Christ, our world changes, we perceive those around us differently. We begin to see them as Christ sees them. Most importantly, we recognize the grace of Christ operative in our lives. We can then echo the words of Saint Paul, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Phillippians 4:13) and that includes forgiving everyone, even those who have wronged us grievously.

How to respond to the grieving

From Fr. Alexis Trader’s site, Ancient Christian Wisdom:

http://ancientchristianwisdom.com/2015/03/04/how-to-respond-to-those-who-grieve/ 

How to Respond to Those Who Grieve?
March 4, 2015 By fatheralexis

 

It’s not easy to know what to say or what to do for someone who has just lost a loved one. What that loved one really meant to the bereaved, how that loved one’s presence completed their world, and what the world looks like now that the loved one is gone, the bereaved and only the bereaved fully know. That is why grief is so exquisitely personal, so undeniably unique, and often frustratingly inscrutable not only for others, but even for the person experiencing grief. “The heart is deep” (Psalm 64:6), and as Saint John Chrysostom puts it, “Nothing is as obscure (ἄδηλον) as the human heart” (Commentary on the Prophet Jeremiah, 17, PG 64.916). So how can someone looking in from the outside hope to help someone else suffering from grief?

 

Kimberly Calderwood, in her 2011 article “Adapting the Transtheoretical Model of Change to the Bereavement Process,” notes that “bereaved people undergo a transformation of self rather than returning to their original state.” Employing a model used for understanding how people change in recovering from addictions, Calderwood suggests that the bereaved also go through stages in which both the way they look at their loss and their willingness to act work in tandem to change their thoughts, feelings, and behavior thereby transforming their entire selves. According to this well-known model, the five stages are pre-contemplation, contemplation, preparation, action, and maintenance. In colloquial terms, they involve the stage of not being ready to think about a change, followed by a time in which one considers what changes might be necessary, followed by a period of mentally preparing to make the changes, leading to a stage in which one acts on the basis of one’s decisions, and then reaching a plateau in which one maintains one’s status until a new cycle of change is called for.

 

What do these stages look like in the case of grief? In terms of thoughts, the person begins thinking “it’s all a bad dream” until it sinks in that “life will never be the same.” Afterwards, a person thinks about how to move forward until deciding on doing or seeing things differently culminating in accepting the fact that the loss will always be there. In terms of emotion, the grieved usually are initially numbed and may be unable to articulate their feelings. Then, the emotions become less intense and more easily identifiable. Afterwards, there is an oscillation between hope and despair until a sense of peace is at last reached. With respect to behavior, in the beginning one just goes through the motions of living and then without really trying one begins to function a bit better. Later on, the grieving turn to the task of planning how to continue to maintain a bond with the departed. Finally, the individual puts changes in place reaching a new normal.

 

Although everyone is unique and truly the heart is deep, the knowledge of this process of change can offer some guidance about offering the appropriate support at the right time. In the preparation stage, the grieved often need help with basic needs such as meals and time to rest. In the contemplation stage, they may need assistance with the ambivalence over trying to recommence with life. In the preparation stage, they often need extra support, because others often withdraw and might expect the grieving to get “over it.” In the action stage, the bereaved may need encouragement in selecting realistic goals for the new life without their loved one. And finally even in the maintenance stage, when moments of grief arise on anniversaries, an encouraging word can do wonders in helping someone to continue to “fight the good fight and keep the faith.”

 

Support is necessary for everyone, especially those who are grieving over a loss. As Saint John Chrysostom put it, “It is God’s will that we receive benefit from one another, for why else has He commanded us to pray for peace and stability of the world? Why has He commanded us to pray in behalf of everyone when that includes robbers, tomb-raiders, thieves, and people rife with a thousand vices, but so that they might return” (Homily 3 on Philippians, PG 66.205). And for Christians, it is helpful to recall that just as God “gives us our nourishment in due season” (Psalm 144:15, LXX), so we should help in good season (ἐν εὐκαιρία) those who are grieving, for as the wise Solomon once said, “How good is a word spoken in due season!” (Proverbs 15:23).

 

Timing is clearly everything, according to both psychologists and the fathers. Timing requires not only compassion, but also sensitivity that comes from really looking at our grieving brother or sister, trying to perceive where they are, and responding to them according to their hour of need. From a Christian perspective, in order to really see them, we need the light of discernment. As Saint Peter of Damascus puts it, “we need this light before we say or do anything. When it is present we are able to view everything else with wonder.” Now, “discernment is born of humility” (Book 1). So if we still do not know what to do or say in the presence of the grieving, if we can’t pinpoint what stage they are in, let us at least strive to be genuinely humble before their suffering, for humility is “that light wherein the love of Christ is found” (Saint Isaac the Syrian, Homily 57). The love of Christ is the ultimate answer to the grieving at any stage, for it “surpasses all knowledge” and enables the believer to “be filled with the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19). When the fullness of God replaces the emptiness of loss, when the light of Christ replaces the darkness of death, then the soul of the grieving finds not only peace, but also the strength to put on Christ and walk in newness of life.

Distinguishing between "I can't" and "I won't" in efforts to forgive

I just can’t! How often have we heard these words from another person? How often have we uttered them ourselves? Often, other people hear these words as expressing not so much our inability to do something as our refusal to do so. We use the expression “I can’t” in order to absolve ourselves of making a choice, when in fact a choice has already been made. In the context of forgiveness, “I can’t” is often a pretext meant to imply that some force outside ourselves makes it impossible for us to forgive. This force may be the one who has wronged us, the hurt that remains with us, or our perception of justice that guides us. Whatever that force may be, we choose to cling to it, to strengthen it, and to use it as a wall to keep us imprisoned in a state that benefits none. And so when asked to forgive, we look at our own personal wall and say “we just can’t forgive,” while as a matter fact, we can.

We can forgive, regardless of how we feel or what comes to our minds, because we have been given the power to choose to forgive. On this point in Ancient Christian Wisdom, I write, “Being made in the image of God, each human being receives as a royal birthright, the sovereign power of the intelligence and the free will. In fact, Saint Nicodemos of the Holy Mountain, well aware of the radiant examples of the martyrs and great ascetics, writes, ‘God bestowed on our will so much freedom and power, that even if every kind of sensual provocation, every kind of demon, and the entire world united to take arms against our will and vehemently to make war against it, despite all that, our will remains entirely free to despise that attack and will what it chooses to will or not will what it does not choose to will.’” Our will has the power and the freedom to shift focus, to change course, and to act in accordance with the image of a loving God that is at the very core of our being. And although emotions of anger and sadness as well as memories of insult and injury might swell up to oppose us, our will can look elsewhere, namely to the person of Christ, and act.

Once we recognize our power to choose, the statement “I can’t” becomes “I won’t.” In this sea change of perception, we have to ask the question, “Why won’t I forgive?” In some cases, this becomes the tipping point toward forgiveness. As a Christians we have countless examples and reasons to forgive. Saint Gregory the Theologian, for instance, wrote his friend Bishop Theodore, who couldn’t seem to forgive: “The Disciples ask to call down the flames of Sodom upon those who drive Jesus away, but He deprecates revenge. Peter cuts off the ear of Malchus, one of those who outraged Him, but Jesus restores it. And what about him who asks whether he must seven times forgive a brother if he has trespassed, is he not condemned for his stinginess, for to the seven is added seventy times seven? What of the debtor in the Gospel who will not forgive as he has been forgiven? Is it not more bitterly exacted of him for this? And what says the model for prayer? Does it not desire that forgiveness may be earned by forgiveness?” (Letter 78). We can look at these examples and then choose in Saint Gregory’s words, to “show ourselves to be merciful rather than severe, and to be lovers of the poor rather than of abstract justice”(Letter 78). Truly, the persons we need to forgive are often poor souls in need of love and our refusal to forgive is often based on an abstraction, an idea, that we place above all things, even the example of Christ. If we recognize these truths and embrace our God-given freedom and strength, we will see that “we can do all things through Christ Who strengthens us” (Philippians 4: 13). Then, to the question, can you forgive? We will answer, “I can and I will God helping me.” Amen.

Fr. Alexis Trader, Sept 4, 2014 posting to Ancient Christian Wisdom blog:  http://ancientchristianwisdom.com/2014/09/04/distinguishing-between-i-cant-and-i-wont-in-efforts-to-forgive/

Captions added by Presbytera Candace