...As We Forgive Our Debtors

As I was about to go to bed and was saying a prayer in the hallway (everyone was asleep in their beds) I struggled to find expressions for what I wanted to say. My heart has been morose of late and I've had difficulty finding the source (or sources). Is it my job? My schedule? Am I eating enough? What about my dedication to my faith? Have I slackened and am reaping consequences?

Well, maybe the answer is more simple. Perhaps I have been unable to release my emotions properly because I haven't been able to let go of the hurt I feel others have given me.

Here me out.

In the last General Conference (October 2015, Saturday morning session) there was a very powerful message given by Sister Neill F. Marriott (2nd Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency). She said:

...perhaps I have a carefully guarded resentment toward someone. When I ask if there is more to confess, that “secret” comes clearly to my memory. In essence, the Holy Ghost is whispering, “You honestly asked if there was more, and here it is. Your resentment diminishes your progress and damages your ability to have healthy relationships. You can let this go.” Oh, it is hard work—we may feel quite justified in our animosity—but yielding to the Lord’s way is the only way to lasting happiness.

I've listened to this talk on my commute multiple times and it gets more pointed and powerful each time - especially in sequence with the preceding conference talks from that session. It struck me this last time that I had some "carefully guarded" resentments towards others. Nothing huge I suppose, but things like people who disagreed with my wife, students who treated me with no respect and treated their selves worse, etc. I found that I purposefully avoid contacting them and I had begun to dismiss their successes or feel jealous of their accomplishments.

Shortly after this revelation, I had a different kind of prayer in my heart than normal. I began asking the Lord to bless these people - some of whom are the very best you could know and deserve none of the anger I had for them. I begged my Savior to heal the broken hearts of those who turly had lashed out at me and did so by name. I began to understand (in a small measure) the words the Savior spoke to both the people in Jerusalem and in the Americas.

But behold I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them who despitefully use you and persecute you (3 Nephi 12:44, see also Matthew 5:44)

As I did so, my heart became lighter. A couple who are very generous souls and who do many philanthropic things became beautiful again in my eyes (unstained by the undeserved animosity I placed on them). A couple of students who gave me so much grief last year became hurt, little boys who needed love and care.

Sadly, I've only just begun. I have stored so much hurt inside that I know I will need time to release it all. I don't need to confront people from my past and give them what for, but rather the opposite - I need to see them in the light of the Savior and love them. Then will my heart be lightened and my soul released from bondage.

Before I even began typing tonight, the Lord's Prayer came to my mind:

Our Father which art in heaven, Halowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen. (Matthew 6:9-13)

(I always hear the choir version of this in my head when I read it)

Burning into my head was the line, "forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." I don't know how much God himself will hold our resentments against us, but I know we are poisoning ourselves by not letting go. As Sister Marriott put it above, "Your resentment diminishes your progress and damages your ability to have healthy relationships." Those relationships include family, friends, pretty much all people, and the most important - God. 

My holding onto anger, however justified it may be, weakens my soul. I cannot love my brother in the way the Lord has asked if I continue to hold his past against him. And I cannot grow spiritually if I have damned my spirit with hate. As I continue to let things of the past fester in my heart, I will further withdraw from God and lose the companionship of the Holy Spirit.

Dearest friends, family, and all others. I am truly sorry if my unwillingness to overlook and let go of perceived faults has led me to distance myself from you. You are all children of God and I know he loves you. I cannot give a priesthood blessing without the words "God loves you" coming out during the prayer. He loves you and in my deepest heart so do I. 

I will have to spend the rest of my life removing the guile I placed within me to see your beauty more clearly, but please know I am trying. I am weak and sinful, but I am trying. I will pray for you and in so doing beg the Lord to forgive me for not loving you more fully, more quickly. 

Poisoned Pedestals

I remember the first time an authority figure let me down and I recognized it. That experience cut me deeply and made me question a lot of things I'd understood. Different events of my past, beliefs I'd held forever, even my own self-image were all shaken permanently. It was at that time that I began learning one of life's hardest lessons - no one, and I mean no one, is perfect.

Now, as simple a lesson as that is, you'd think decades later I would know it well enough to apply it to my life. Since no one is perfect, and I'm included there, I must accept that we all have faults and that goodness doesn't depend on a measurement of our spiritual yin-yang balance, but on something deeper.

After dwelling on this for some weeks now, I've realized that we all place people or our idea of people on pedestals and look at them from down below. These sculpted, chiseled busts of who we think people are give us this strange sense of false comfort and ill-placed trust. Not that placing faith in others is wrong nor believing in the good of others. Rather, it is the erroneous construct that since "so-and-so" is up there on that pedestal, they are trustworthy and good. Sounds a bit like idol worshiping.

There are real dangers in allowing ourselves to build these pedestals and place people on them. In time, we will compare ourselves to our created images and realize we are short and that we are not worthy to be in such a lofty station as them. We will come to know that we will never fit in with our perfect population of statues and despair.

Moreover, we will begin looking down on others and see how even more unlike our creations they are than we. Because we cannot bring ourselves up to the status of our perfect, objectified creations, we will tear others down - for if they are even worse than us, perhaps we aren't so bad after all. If we truly knew what we were doing in our mind we would be horrified and disgusted with ourselves.

I try very hard not to tear down my colleagues and those I love. When I catch myself doing it, I am quick to dismiss the thought and remind myself of how the Lord loves them and they are amazing, faults and all. I used to be very good at not judging others much at all - though that became lessened as I grew older. But I have little strength in resisting the temptation to destroy myself.

Lately, I've realized that I've placed an image of myself on the same pedestal that I've been removing my parents, leaders, and friends from. While I have slowly grown to accept their flaws and see the good in them I refuse to ignore my own mistakes and focus on them. Each time I fall short of completing an assignment or I fail to foresee a problem, I feel as though I have failed beyond hope. I have to be the perfect image of myself that I placed on the stand or I am not good enough.

You see, like many others, I've constructed a pedestal and put a bust on there. For some it is their leaders, for others like me, themselves, and still others it is some idea or concept in their life. No matter what we place on that exalted place, if it isn't the Lord himself, we are only poisoning ourselves with blind faith, misguided aspirations, or love of mammon and things. Wanting to be better and perfect ourselves is good - doing it in a way that ignores the truth of how each of us is flawed will only lead to further heartache and sorrow.

I have read several biographies of LDS church presidents and grown to love how these imperfect men did their best in spite of their weaknesses (and sometimes because of them) and ended up making the world a better place. It is marvelous to me to know how they struggled with my afflictions, my temptations, my worries, and still performed so many labors of love in this life. I have been gaining a truer testimony of this work since beginning to understand what many of the Lord's anointed have stated - that they are "mortal and subject to human imperfection" but "While neither perfect nor infallible, these good men and women have been perfectly dedicated to leading the work of the Lord forward as He has directed." (Elder Ballard, October 2015 General Conference).

Over time I hope I will be able to remove the pristine statue of myself that I placed on high and be able to just find joy in my own progression and seeing the hand of the Lord in my life. That I will rejoice in all the good God does in my life. That I will never again place another soul on a pedestal nor compare another to someone I've placed there. That I will come to understand how the words "Exaltation is our goal; discipleship is our journey," (Pres. Utchdorf, October 2015 General Conference) really tell us to aim high, desire to be better, but continue putting one foot in front of the other now and with joy.

And that I will only choose as a perfect role model for myself, Jesus Christ - the one exception to the rule "no one is perfect."