For years, when I reflected on the story of the Prodigal Son, I identified with the elder brother. was on his side; he was the injured party, he was the one who experienced loss, he was the one to whom compensation was owed.
After all, 50% of the farm's assets had been lost by the prodigal, and all these years the elder brother had striven to restore what had been lost. He sacrificed, was hard-working, and responsible. He deprived himself of having fun in order to keep working and get the job done.
The party should have been given in his honor, while the prodigal should have been sent to the fields to begin paying off the debt he owed the family. It would only be fair for the father to toast the elder brother at his party for being the responsible one who kept the farm financially stable, and contrast him favorably to his ne'er-do-well brother. I Instead the elder brother is condemned by Jesus Himself, and in the text I knew I was condemned also. My only reaction was to be outraged at the unfairness of Jesus who gave me no credit for my efforts to live a righteous life, and who added insult to injury by requiring me to forgive the sinners who had hurt me.
But God had something better for the elder brother than to leave him out in the field. Jesus went to the cross to bring the elder brother out of the field and into the house where he could join the party. And He had done the same thing for me.
When I came to the day and hour when I could no longer endure being the way I was, I called Keys. It was made abundantly clear from the beginning that forgiving the people who had hurt me the most would be an essential element in reorienting my broken sexuality. 1 had never forgiven anyone in my entire life and was convinced I wouldn't be able to, but I was in no position to argue: Pa. Eberle knew the route out of homosexuality and I did not.
It was time to revisit the elder brother. What does it take to bring him out of the field and into the party?
He must have the courage to face the truth, and call the devil's lie a lie.
The lie is that maintaining resentment will protect one from further hurt. The truth is that one can never heal a hurt by hating; the protective layers of hate become thicker while the hurt remains as raw as the day it was inflicted.
The lie is that one should put out one's feelers and be on guard against more hurt; the truth is that one only ends up snore hurt, endlessly collecting injustices and rehearsing them over and over
The lie is that the one who hurt us owes us compensation for what they did. In civil matters there is some truth in that; child molesters, for example, belong in prison. But prison -only keeps them off the streets, the victims remain unhealed. The truth is that the real compensation has been made, not by time served in prison, but by the perfect sacrifice hanging on the cross, dripping blood for both victim and offender. Were his 6 hours there not enough to pay me for the hurts I had experienced? One second was more that I had a right to.
In civil matters, victims have rights, but in spiritual matters we have none. We are all fallen, all in the same need of mercy.
The lie is that some need to repent more than others, but the truth is that the moral ground, not just the social and economic ground is level at the foot of the cross. It greatly offends my pride, but the truth is that I stand on the same moral ground as the people who hurt me.
The lie is that I need my pride, the truth is that pride blocks the path to joy. Kicking my pride was the most painful thing I have ever done, and the most liberating. Pride is a terrible ball and chain to drag along.
Forgiveness does not mean remaining in an abusive relationship; if you are in one, GET OUT. But the lie is that forgiving your abuser will keep you tied to him or her, but in reality, the opposite is true. Of the many dozens of women I have counseled who are in abusive relationships, love is not what keeps them trapped. Hatred is what keeps them there, hoping that if they stay long enough, they will find that perfect revenge that will close their wounds, make it all worthwhile, and enable them to spring free.
The lie is that revenge can accomplish these things, but the truth is that there is no perfect revenge that will end the hurt and bring a satisfactory healing. Instead, revenge becomes addictive as more and more of it is sought and yet the original wound does not heal. Instead, more hurts are dredged up and accumulated as we look' for excuses to continue vengeance
The story is told of a man in Vienna earlier in this century who laughed at the mediocre sketches of a wanna-be artist. In years to come that wanna-be artist killed 6 million Jews, and his instruments of mass murder kept going until the last minutes when Allied tanks rolled up to the camp gates.
Forgiveness means I stop endlessly rehearsing the memories of the pain. Forgiveness means I surrender all fantasies of getting even. Forgiveness means I give up all hope of ever 'making them realize' what they did to me. 'Wlaking them realize is God's business, not mine, and when we attempt to do it, it is more often than not our revenge-seeking in pious disguise. We want our enemies repenting in sackcloth and ashes, but we can t stand the thought of them joyfully accepting God's forgiveness. Jonah didn't seem to mind the Ninevites repenting; it was only when God granted forgiveness that he sulked in the desert heat rather than going into town to join them in giving thanks.
Forgiveness means accepting the unfairness of God's mercy. Others wronged me, but I end of having to repent if I fail to love them. The injured party does not receive the moral high ground, the only ground anyone receives has a bloody cross planted in it. Forgiveness means fixing my attention on the ransom paid for me, not on the sins of the others.
Forgiveness means living in vulnerability, giving up my self-protective devises.
Having accepted this, I began to see change.
The low-grade depression, which always dragged at me, lifted. Anxiety had been my constant companion, and I had not imagined what life would have been like without it, but it also vanished. I gave up trying to control my life and gained control over myself. I was traveling lighter, and with greater energy and focus I found myself far more productive at work.
I realized then that resentment had taken over my life. It had came on line in the morning when I woke up and filled every unoccupied stretch of time I had. I had lost m's ability to enjoy sunrises, falling leaves, and the taste of my food. Having forgiven the ones who wronged me, for the first time in years I could enjoy thawing snow and budding leaves, and taste breakfast sausage and strong coffee.
The homosexual desires, which had pulled like magnets and had been my gnawing obsession, gradually diminished as I forgave the mother who verbally abused me. Homosexuality became like a distant radio tower which emitted a fainter and fainter signal. K.M.H.
