God Is Not As Offended As We Tend to Think He Is

I sometimes think of Joseph's statement shortly before he died that his conscience was free of offense toward God and man. I know he offended people regularly, but I believe he was sincere in that statement. That used to puzzle me - greatly. What I have come to believe is that each of us only can answer to our own understanding of ourselves - to our effort to live the best we understand - to be whatever we believe we are supposed to be.

I know I also have offended people at times - sometimes through what I have written here on this blog. I've done things that I believe "should" be offensive to God, but I've come to believe that they might not be - that he might look down and sigh as he watches me muddle through my life, but that he also understands I'm doing the best I can do. I have come to believe he appreciates that, and I am grateful for the peace that belief brings me as I also try to accept my own weakness and understand that I am worthy specifically because he has deemed me to be so.

That perspective gives me peace, so I accept it and keep on keepin' on.

When Someone Hurts Us

When someone hurts us, it's hard to remember that, sometimes, it's just a case of a good person trying his or her best and simply screwing up.

I know I've hurt others plenty of times in my life, and I hope I am a good person. If I can hurt others unintentionally, just because I'm a stupid, flawed, blind mortal, I try really, really hard to keep that in mind with regard to others. I try really hard to have my first "action" be charitable rather than judgmental. I don't succeed as often as I'd like, but I do try.

How Should We Respond When People Around Us Denigrate or Condemn Mormons?

I believe remaining silent in situations like this reinforces the negative at the expense of the positive - and that it does so in one way that gets overlooked by almost everyone:

With many people who are Christian, if they respect you but don't know your religious affiliation, they will assume (because they respect you) that you are "like them". At the very least, they will believe you aren't part of a "damnable cult" like Mormonism, as they see it. Your silence reinforces that stereotype and actually contributes to the solidification of their characterization - since they will look at you as an example of someone who knows better than to associate with people who are damned to Hell, like Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses (and, in some cases and places, Catholics).

I believe there certainly are times when it's appropriate to remain silent in the presence of someone who is railing against the Church, but the effect described above is worth considering, in my opinion - no matter how you choose to act.

The Importance of Interpreting Offensive Statements As If We Had Said Them

None of us can avoid saying things occasionally in a way / wording that sounds different than we mean it. All of us are going to be misunderstood at some point, and it's going to happen to most of us over and over again - sometimes when we can find out about it and correct the misunderstanding, but often when we never realized we've been misunderstood and can't correct it.

Therefore, when I hear something that seems offensive at first, I try to see if there is a way to interpret what is being said so that it's not offensive - so there's something I can learn from it. Sometimes, what is said really is just offensive, but generally I can find a way to take something positive from it.

"My back was to Christ, and all I could see was the person who had hurt me."

I was part of a group a while ago that was discussing the book, "The Peacegiver" - by James L. Farrell.  One of my friends in that group made the following comment, and when I came across it again today I was moved as much as I had been when she first shared it.  I hope it touches someone else as much as it touched me:
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I wasn't a fan of the way this book was written (the narrative voice).

HOWEVER...

The most significant thing I learned came from the retelling of the story of David, Nabal, and Abigail. Abigail becomes a type of Christ in this story, interceding on behalf of Nabal but also saving David from sinning in anger. What occurred to me as I read the vivid description of this account was the physical placement of each of these characters.

Abigail was physically in between Nabal and David. For years, I had tried to forgive others without complete success because I had the characters in the wrong place. It was like my offender was before me and Christ was behind me. I received mercy from Christ so I would turn and offer it to my offender. With this positioning the weight of forgiveness rested on my shoulders alone. As I turned to forgive my offender, my back was to Christ and all I could see was the person who had hurt me.

The story of Abigail put Christ between me and my offender, so that I had to look at Christ instead of the one who'd hurt me. There in front of me, arms outstretched and exuding unconditional love, was my Savior saying "upon me let this iniquity be". I could see the love He had for my offender as well as the love He had for me, and I couldn't even look at my offender without seeing the face of the Lord. Only after applying this principle to all my relationships was I able to completely experience a change of heart toward all my fellowmen.

Accepting the Seemingly Irredeemable as Redeemable

Last week, in my New Year's Resolution post entitled, "Exercising Faith in Jesus as Redeemer: God Will Save Us, As Well', I wrote the following:

I believe exercising faith in Jesus as Redeemer is more about living the type of life I believe he lived and wants me to live than about exact understanding of doctrine or philosophy or theology - as much as I absolutely love the study of those things.  To me, exercising faith in Jesus as Redeemer means becoming like him - and the biggest aspect of that, perhaps, is nothing more than learning to see every person around me as valuable, important, worthy of love and, in the best sense of the ideal, a sibling and a fellow child of God.  

I have been thinking about that idea as part of the concept of "redemption" - that, at the most fundamental level, redemption simply isn't "godly" and "infinite" if it doesn't include those who appear to us to be irredeemable.  It has been particularly piercing this week, since I have been dealing with both a situation and a person for whom and in which I have been struggling to feel compassion - struggling to feel as if the person and the situation are irredeemable.  I have been frustrated not only by this person and this situation (which, for the sake of clarity and full disclosure, are distinctly separate and not related in any way) but also with myself for not being able to deal with each properly. 

The only thing I want to share tonight in this New Year's Resolution post is an epiphany I had this week as I struggled to reconcile my attempt to understand the redemption of Jesus Christ and how I can exercise faith in it with the deep frustration I was feeling in these two aspects of my own life.  That epiphany is two-fold:

1) In the case of the person, it struck me that much if not all of my difficulty in seeing redeemable worth is the result of a very strong, very negative first impression.  This person said some things quite a while ago that for me were extremely inflammatory.  They were stereotypical broadsides - attacks on much of what I hold dear to my heart in what I perceived to be an uninformed, mean-spirited, sweeping, condescending, contemptuous way.  I didn't bother trying to get to know this person; I simply took offense and, uncharacteristically, swung back.  Since that time, whenever I was in a situation to interact with this person, my immediate reaction was negative - assuming the worst of what I was about to experience. 

That initial reaction, based solely on one interaction and lacking ANY real depth of understanding at the personal level, kept me from seeing any redeeming qualities in someone I labeled an "adversary".  Hence, right up until this evening, my hackles rose in this person's figurative presence - and I simply couldn't see that, in a very real way, I was denying the power of the redemption of Jesus Christ as it applies to all.  I was making an exception at the practical, personal level - even though my brain would have said that, of course, I believed this person could be redeemed. 

I am sorry that it took so long for me to realize this, but it has been a real eye-opener for me.  I realized very clearly that I need to change MYSELF - not the other person or the circumstances in which we interact. 

2) Conversely, I have come to realize that the difficult situation with which I have been struggling just might be fundamentally irredeemable for me - that I actually might have to remove myself from it in order for it to be resolved.  This realization has brought its own kind of angst and concern, but what struck me hard this week, in relation to my New Year's Resolution, is that there is a HUGE difference between an inter-personal conflict and a situational conflict that merely involves other people. 

I have no right to judge a person as irredeemable, even with people who might be much worse than my initial perception of the person I described above.  However, in some situations, even as I cannot judge the person to be irredeemable, I can (and sometimes must) be willing and able to judge a situation as irredeemable.  In those cases, even as I refuse to condemn the person (leaving that judgment to the one who truly can see the ability of the soul and the intent of the heart), I must separate myself from the situational aspects that cause it to be irredeemable. 

In summary, although I can and should "give up on" some situations, I can never "give up on" people - at least from an eternal perspective.  I learned this evening the folly of doing that, since I discovered the person I had been writing off really isn't nearly as bad as I had assumed - and certainly not irredeemable. 

Righteous Indignation Usually Isn't

Indignation requires offense - a "How could he?" response to another's action. "How could he?" implies a lack of understanding of "Why did he?" - a reaction to not understanding the motivation as much as, if not more than, the action itself. Indignation is divisive, since it subsequently adds an element of "She should have known better, so how dare she!" to the mix.

Due to this focus, indignation allows the one who feels it to ignore solutions (including compromise) and focus instead on criticizing the other person. It is seductive, and it is rampant - especially in a forum like a blog where there is no tangible association that can blunt the natural, emotional reaction and provide a satisfying answer to, "How could he?" Worst of all, indignation rarely includes solutions, since the focus is on the object of the outrage rather than proactive solutions.

The only solutions I have discovered are: 1) a recognition and acceptance of the idea that all of us are weak and flawed and do things that can cause "righteous indignation" if others choose to be offended (thus letting us cut others some slack); 2) the humility to be willing to not get indignant - to forget about "How dare she!" and focus instead on understanding "Why did she?"

There certainly are situations where indignation is the right response, but I believe those times constitute only a small fraction of the times when we think we are justified.