All of us bear wounds inflicted by others: Painful conflicts, harsh judgments, hurtful comments, rejections of proffered love and friendship, lack of gratitude and support, embarrassing humiliations, experiences of being ignored or overlooked.
In moments of defeat and failure, we may be tempted to revisit these difficult memories, clinging to them as examples of how we are misunderstood, unappreciated, maligned, and victimized.
Contextualizing our personal hurts is our current culture of toxic rage, bitter vitriol, and profound disrespect.
Sadly, these destructive dynamics have spilled over into the Church, fueled by the extremes of social media.
The wounds we carry, left unhealed and unforgiven, can literally destroy us if we choose to feed our festering resentments with self-pity and anger.
The challenge of forgiveness
The most moving moment at the World Meeting of Families, which I attended in Rome this June, was a reflection offered by an Australian couple who tragically lost three of their seven children two years ago when they were killed by a drunk driver.
They spoke profoundly about their need and struggle to forgive this man who shattered their lives, knowing that Jesus wanted them to do so, both for the sake of the man as well as for themselves.
The fact that they were able to stand before 5,000 people and talk about this unspeakable tragedy from a position of love, mercy, and reconciliation stunned all of us and left us weeping, applauding, and praying.
As Christians, we know that Jesus came to forgive our sins and to invite us to live in the loving embrace of the Father’s reconciliation.
In so many passages in the Gospels, the Lord calls us to both forgive and ask for forgiveness, to pass on the gift of mercy, which we ourselves receive through Jesus’ death on the cross and resurrection.
We follow a Master who could look with love upon those who were persecuting, torturing, mocking, and killing Him, and say, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.”
This divine love, which embraces every sinner and sin from the beginning to the end of time is the only force which can save us; this disarming mercy extended to a thief, a coward, and a traitor takes our breath away.
It is the power of supernatural grace, which I felt while listening to that extraordinary couple at the Vatican.
Yet, to forgive is so hard for us most of the time. The first reaction to being profoundly wounded is often to inflict injury back on the perpetrator, or at least, to distance ourselves from the one who has hurt us, while we play a quiet game of passive aggression.
We often hold on to grudges, pain, and hurt, sometimes because we do not pray for the grace to forgive, other times because it gives a sense of power over the one who has hurt us, or simply because we do not know how to let the pain go.
I am not advocating that one should remain in a situation of abuse or simply be a doormat for others’ cruelty, but how do we forgive from the heart, even when our intellect and our faith tell us that it is good for everybody involved, that the first person we set free is ourselves?
Examples from the saints
I aspire to reach the level of spiritual insight and practical mercy, which the saints both articulated and lived so well.
St. Rose of Lima wrote, “All men throughout the world would seek trouble, infirmities, and torments, instead of good fortune, in order to attain the unfathomable treasure of grace. This is the reward and the final gain of patience. No one would complain about his cross or about troubles that may happen to him if he would come to know the scales on which they are weighed when they are distributed to men.”
St. Margaret Mary said, “And every time that some punishment, affliction, or injustice comes your way, say to yourself: ‘Accept this as sent to you by the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ in order to unite yourself to him.’ ”
The saints became experts in suffering, embracing physical pain, forgiving the calumnies and insults of others, changing the evils inflicted on them into mercy and light.
They lived in such profound union with Jesus that they became an extension of His merciful heart and understanding love.
In the vision of the Paschal Mystery, all that is dark, painful, and bad is transformed into spiritual growth and reconciling power in Christ, if we have the courage to accept and forgive.
The saints pursued the cross with a relentless intensity, knowing that the suffering most people did their best to avoid actually contained within itself the saving mystery of divine grace.
How else can we explain these perplexing words from Sts. Rose of Lima and Margaret Mary?
As odd as it may sound, Japanese Akito wrestling comes to mind here because its goal is to leave one’s opponent laughing and unhurt on the ground.
The wrestler learns to refract the aggression of the other, transforming the violent energy of his opponent into a disarming force, which does no injury but quells the attack.
Is this not what Jesus Christ definitively accomplished on the cross, by embracing all evil of all time, absorbing it, letting it take His human life, and offering it to the Father in one supreme act of love?
Our world, country, and Church need saints who can challenge the evil and confusion of our time, not from a position of rage and vitriol, but one of the love and truth which flow from the Crucified.