Innocent Until Proven Guilty

LC Pod

Poison & Wine by The Civil Wars 

It was a bright and sunny Sunday, a day that matched the mood I was in as I walked to church.  The homely given was about forgiveness, something the world needs a little more of.  The priest enlightened us with a story about a master that gathered his workers around to collect their debts.  When it came time for one particular worker to come forth, he begged his master to be patient with him and he would repay everything.  The master, despite being owed a significant amount, accepted his plea.  Off the worker went and on his walk back, likely back to work,  he met up with a man that owed him a little bit of money. He grabbed him by the throat and demanded that he pay him immediately.  Just as he did moments ago, the man begged with him to be patient and that he would repay everything.  But he did not give him the same benefit and refused his plea.

The moral of the story is that those who seek forgiveness must forgive as well.  How can we ask to be absolved of our transgressions, when we are not willing to let others be absolved of theirs?  The Lord's prayer reads:

"And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those that trespass against us"

After delivering this story, the priest asked the congregation to sit in silence for a bit and to think of a person, or persons, who have trespassed against us, forgive, and to let it go.  Just like that, let it go.  Feelings you've been harvesting in your heart and mind for days, weeks, months, maybe even years, tap into them, breathe in, and feel them... for one last time.  Then, through the grace of a divine power, something that is needed to trump the inclination of the human heart and mind to begrudge, exhale and let it all go.

I have learned to put aside most of the people that have hurt me, and along with that, came the forgiving.  It's impossible to forget what they've done, and impossible to forget how they made you feel, but it's very possible to forget your perception of them at that once dreadful time.   When the change in your perception occurs, when they go from being that person that hurt you to just another person, their ghost is released.  And just like that, they go back to being innocent until proven guilty. 

Somewhere on my "black list" from this spiritual exercise was Justin, more commonly known to this blog as JB.  (refer to Isn't it pretty to think so).  We are no longer in touch and I have no means to do so even if I ever felt like it, which at this present time, I do.  I have a hankering to send him my best.  I do not have his phone number or email.  I was quick to delete all of those.  But I do know he is on Twitter, and an avid twitterer at that.  So when I got home, I let the idea of writing him sit with me for a little bit.  Do I truly want to reach out to him or am I just on a church high?  That intoxicating feeling you get from an hour of listening to spiritual words, sitting in a building of such grandeur and with such meaning.  

I do want to write him, so I do the most "in" thing and follow him on twitter.  My plan was to follow him, give him time to notice me as his new follower, then send a short message, wishing him well in life, love and health, then unfollow him, and carry on.  

I followed him.  Gave it some time.  I went to write him.  He had already deleted me.  

Silently, I sat, confused.  How can it be that the person who was wronged is the one sending the well wish, and secondly,  the one that was deleted?  Logically, which there doesn't seem to be much logic in his methods, if anything, it should be the other way around.  I should be the recipient of a well wish and I should be the deleter.  But that's neither here nor there.

So now comes the trick question: Do I still wish him a great life?  He is the doer of the original cowardly deed.  And he is now the doer behind squashing my one, only, and last attempt at forgiveness.  The surprising and very feel-good answer is, yes.  It's like an apology.  You give it with the chance that the person won't accept it.

My hope for him remains unchanged.  There are no take-backs.  It is unconditional, just like the love I have for my interactive experiences, such as the one between he and I.

Isn't it pretty to think so.

LCxo