Love Offered--Forgiveness Granted (a little late)

I have written about how I felt abandoned by my home congregation during that lonely time in St. Louis. I have expressed the anger I felt—unquenched anger that led me to leave the United Church in Tallahassee, although I never really left (I still give money to the church on a monthly basis). No need to rehash all that.

But last week I was looking through some old papers and found a bundle of letters that various members of the congregation wrote me as I prepared to enter seminary. As I read through them, I realized that without their support I never would have gotten to St. Louis in the first place and that I never really expressed the gratitude I felt.

One person wrote, “You are a special child of God with special gifts...You have a hunger to know and to serve...You don't need a stole to begin to minister, because you are already reaching out to people around you in a real way.”

Another wrote, “You have a faith that comes through in your actions and that is a wonderful thing to see. When you have preached to the church what comes through is your basic belief in God and your obvious grappling with the many issues that arise as you move along your faith journey. Your lack of concern for your own glory and position is obvious and you serve us well.”

Another wrote, “I think you are spiritually and emotionally courageous...those are the traits which have drawn me to you and your friendship from the start. I remember how happy I felt the day you preached that sermon about the Good Jesus and the Bad Jesus—ah, ha! You had the guts to get up in front of God and mankind and admit your struggles. I have admired your honesty and courage ever since...”

And yet another wrote, “You have a gift for listening without judging. You listen with caring and help people to say things they might not feel able to say if they had to measure every word. You listen as one who is caring and knowledgeable about himself.”

I repeat these statements not to offer them up as truth about myself, although I hope there is at least a kernel of truth in there, but as evidence that I was once loved by the congregation that I so loved in return. As I read these and other letters, I realized that people who express thoughts like these are incapable of betrayal. Perhaps they did let me down; perhaps I expected too much of them. At any rate, I realize now that in my anger, disappointment, and, yes, sickness over my failure in St. Louis I lashed out unjustly at good people who did not deserve the dark thoughts I directed their way.

So, whatever harm they did me paled in significance to the love they offered me, and I forgive them for it. May I find forgiveness in my heart for myself.