Forgiveness
By Mary McCue
How does it creep into arteries,
level blood pressure
and wipe clean
the slate of anger
held close to the chest?
Look long into the mirror,
be tender with the face you see,
then to the blistered past,
the entire landscape,
the smallest detail
as in a Brueghel painting,
then revise and revise
until the story changes shape
and you, no longer the jailor,
have learned to love
what is left.
McCue’s words on forgiveness are apt for this season of Lent. Our preparation to celebrate resurrection first invites us to “Look long into the mirror,” a phrase one can interpret as a call to be present. Present to self. Present to God who is with and within us. Beginning with Ash Wednesday and its stripping affirmation that we are creation, our long look into the mirror reveals our need for honesty, confession, truth-telling, and grace. It reveals our need to acknowledge our hopes and disappointments, our desires and frustrations, our pain and the pain we have caused others, and, yes, to also muster the courage to believe and hold on to the life-giving visions that stir our passion.
McCue’s poem reminds us to be “tender” and full of grace for the past that clings to us and binds us and prevents us from attending to this work of truth-telling and grace. Little by little. Taking one detail at a time, she writes, “revise and revise / until the story changes shape / and you, no longer the jailor, have learned to love / what is left.”
Forgiveness for ourselves. Forgiveness for others. Forgiveness comes as a gift that frees us to let down the walls confining our heart, frees us into honesty and acceptance, frees us so that we, personally and as a collective, are healed.
Blessings,