If you are bringing your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother or sister has anything against you, go first and be reconciled to him or her, and then come back and present your gift. —Matthew 5:23–24
Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
—Step 8 of the Twelve Steps
Father Richard names the importance of acknowledging wrong and harm, while trusting in the gift of grace:
Despite the higher economy of grace and mercy lived and taught by Jesus, he didn’t entirely throw out the lower economy of merit or “satisfaction.” They build on one another, and the lower by itself is inadequate to life’s truly great tasks—love, forgiveness, endurance of unjust suffering, and death itself. When we move to more mature stages of love and transformation, we don’t jump over earlier stages. We must go back and rectify earlier wrongs. Otherwise, there may be no healing or open future for us—or for those we have hurt.
God fully forgives us, but the impact or “karma” of our mistakes remains, and we must still go back and repair the bonds we’ve broken. Otherwise, others may not be able to forgive us, nor will we likely forgive ourselves. “Amazing grace” is not a way to avoid honest human relationships. Rather, it’s a way to redo them—but now, gracefully—for the liberation of both sides. Nothing just goes away in the spiritual world; all must be reconciled and accounted for. [1]
Anne Lamott recounts how her son held her accountable after she posted insensitive comments online, and reflects on experiencing mercy:
[My son] asked me to apologize publicly. I didn’t want to, because the hundreds of people who attacked me were so vicious…. My son said that this was not the point. The point was that I had done something beneath me that had hurt a lot of people, and that I needed to make things right.
We talked on the phone about this and he said: “I love you, but you were wrong. You did an awful thing. Please apologize. I’m not going to let this go. And I won’t let you go, either.” He was in tears. I was sick to my stomach.
Later he sent an e-mail: “You need to do the right thing, Mom. I love you.”
I wrote to the public that I was deeply, unambiguously sorry, even though I secretly still felt misunderstood…. I did this imperfectly, the best I could, admitting I was wrong. I expressed contrition. It was awful.
My son was grateful, but distant for a time…. Extending mercy had cost him, and extending mercy to myself cost me even more deeply, and it grew us both, my having screwed up on such a big stage. It taught me that mercy is a cloak that will wrap around you and protect you…. It can help you rest and breathe again for the time being, which is all we ever have. [2]
References:
[1] Selected from Richard Rohr, Breathing under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps, 10th anniv. ed. (Cincinnati, OH: Franciscan Media, 2011, 2021), 65.
[2] Anne Lamott, Hallelujah Anyway: Rediscovering Mercy (New York: Riverhead Books, 2017), 41–42.
Image credit and inspiration: Jenna Keiper, bubble detail (detail), 2020, photo, Albuquerque. Click here to enlarge image. Air is released as bubbles when water hits water. Where do we find oxygen when we’re underwater?
Story from Our Community:
As someone living in Twelve Step recovery for 34 years, I’ve discovered the importance of living in hope. Ten years ago, life introduced me to my shadow self through hospitalization—then a friend introduced me to the Daily Meditations. I’m grateful to have slowly come to know my True Self as I continue to live and grow in my recovery with continual hope. Now, part of my practice is to share the Daily Meditations with a few others seeking recovery. After all, hope is akin to love, isn’t it?
—Paul D.
