Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived.
~Charlotte Joko Beck
I was visiting the Nativity Cave in Bethlehem, Israel, with a group of Christians. Also present was a young Egyptian family: a husband and wife and their two young children. At one point the son looked at his father and asked who this group of people were. The father looked down at his son and replied, "They are pilgrims." This struck me. Up to that point, I had thought of us as tourists. My traveling companion, a senior adult, had about 30 pounds of camera equipment hanging from his shoulders, so he certainly looked like the typical tourist. But the truth of the young father's statement hit me: we were not tourists, we were pilgrims. We took time to have short religious observances at all of the major biblical spots during our tour of Israel.
As I contemplated this, it occured to me: Everyone is on a journey, not everyone is on a pilgrimage. And I didn't want my life to just be a journey. I wanted it to truly be a pilgrimage. To walk hand-in-hand with God, and to have major spiritual observances and markers along the way as I traveled through the mystery that is my life, on my way towards "a better country."
As we Christians pilgrimage our way through this life, we experiencing hurts and pains. We are hurt by family, friends, fellow Christians, the church, and some even feel they have been hurt by God. "Why did God allow...?" "Why did God cause this to happen to me?" Some of our wounds are slight and heal quickly. Others leave scars that we bear. For some, one or two wounds are so deep and severe that they never really heal over, but are open wounds that are the source of a pain that we carry deep within.
Grudges and resentments that we carry and won't let go of brings a dark cloud of anger and even bitterness that cast an ever-present shadow on our path. It adds to the load of baggage that we lug along our pilgrimage. Not dealing with it can lead to both chronic anxiety and eventually an ever-present depression.
For we Christians, forgiveness is vital for our pilgrimage. I believe that there are several that we have to forgive as we journey along. Family, the church, God, and ourselves.
Families hurt each other along the way. It's just the nature of the journey. You can't live in close quarters daily and not hurt each other. But one thing I have noticed with the fellow pilgrims in my tribe are Christians who lug around a lot of baggage from their parents. Open wounds that still hurt, issues that they are still wrestling with, parents that continue to hurt them. Forgiving our parents for our deep hurts and wounds is one of the main chores of the journey. I know that the majority of my own issues have to do with my parents--deep, deep scars. But going through that baggage and forgiving one parent's is critical, because the less baggage we lug along, the easier the journey.
But forgiveness is not a "one shot thing" and then you're done. "I forgive you and now everything's okay." Forgiveness is itself a journey, a process. Because you find that even when you're an adult, your parents aren't done hurting you yet. I spent the first 20 years of my adult life dealing with my issues regarding my parents. And when I thought I was done, I found myself in therapy at the age of 45, being told that I had both abandonment and overwhelmed issues from my parents, which included my step-father. I thought, "Geez! How long do we have to live to finally get over this stuff?!" Now I know that there's no such thing as "finally." There's only progressive improvement, by God's grace.
But you know, as we are in the process of forgiving, we are also being forgiven. Because my family lives in close quarters with me. And I'm not always a barrel of laughs. I can be hurtful as well. Sometimes intentionally, hopefully unintentionally the majority of the time.
Not long after my daughter was born, I was thinking about this. My goal has always been to be the Dad that I always wanted to have. But one night I was standing next to the crib in my daughter's room, looking down at my sleeping infant, watching her sleep. I use to love to watch her sleep. I wondered about her life, what kind of woman she would grow to be. I knew that she would never have to wrestle with the things that I have had to wrestle with. My wife and I were going to see to that. But I also knew that I would be a lovingly flawed father. As I gazed upon my sleeping daughter, I wondered: What would she have to forgive her father for as she grew older? What hurts and wounds would she have to deal with in relation to me, and what would she have to forgive her old Dad for? I prayed for God to give her the grace and the ability to do it. She needed it, and I needed her to be able to forgive me.
Forgiving and being forgiven as we journey through the decades with our family. It's an on-going process. But it's the only way to travel light through the pilgrimage.
Later posts: Forgiving the Church, God, ourselves.
Your Fellow Traveler,
~Steve
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