Mercy’s Memory

Apr 9

When I was at DeSales University, I was fortunate to take a class with Fr. Tom Dailey, OSFS, named “The Art of Forgiveness.” What a title! And how true to life I have found it to be—forgiveness is not an easy or automatic process. I would even say it is not possible without grace. Yet, I believe and have experienced the practice of forgiveness as the key to genuine inner freedom and liberation from the chains of past hurts. As we approach Holy Week, we can place our own instances of forgiveness in the context of the great story of forgiveness—the Cross as the wellspring of all forgiveness.

I think that forgiving and being forgiven pose such a hurdle for our emotional life because it touches on the most sensitive parts of our past. Even when we can bring ourselves to make an act of forgiveness, what are we to do with those painful memories of being betrayed, disregarded, or insulted? We can’t erase our past, so are we consigned to grieve over it forever? What about our own actions—the hurts we inflict on others, intentionally or not? Must we carry this guilt with us all our days?

Psychologists have made their own contributions to this mission. The concept of “reframing” can help us place our own hurts in the broader context of our lives and others’ lives. When we focus on a single instance of offense, we only capture one moment in the entire story of a person’s life. When we can see this moment as only one frame in the whole narrative, then its sting can be softened by remembering that this other person is a fallible human being, loved by God, and still destined for eternal life. What if that person will one day waltz their way into the Kingdom of God ahead of us?—What a tough pill for our pride to swallow!

Still, I would say the resources of psychology are valuable but limited. “Reframing” is not the same as “transforming.” But when we place our whole life story in God’s hands, we can see this transformation at work. The Cross shines its light both forward and backward to transform our memories into vessels of grace and privileged moments of providence. These words from Dawn Eden express this mystery better than any others I have found: “When we have occasion to revisit images of the past that were once streaked with shadow, we are surprised to find that even the darkest patches begin to bear hints of the bright hues of the Easter sunrise.”

Only the power of God’s love can transform our past without needing to erase it. By illuminating our past, we can see every event in our lives in the way it is meant to be seen: as the unfolding of God’s life and action within us, which carries us through this life to our homeland when this transformation will shine forth in all its fullness.

Mercy’s Memory

Mercy’s memory is murk and mire,
Where we return to Adam’s fall,
Until the sanguinary light extends
And lends to sight dimensions yet unseen.

Mercy’s present is the view
From dislodged death and displaced stone,
That even within blackness lights
The felix culpa of our own.

Mercy’s future is return
To every foul and fetid place,
To snatch from sore despondency
The fragments of us unredeemed,
And join the jubilee that bids
Our reunited life recline.