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There is no human being who is wounded and, yet, forgives the giver of the wound, for whom God will not exalt the injured party's dignity and dimminish such a person's faults. - Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him)

Forgiveness

There are many times when we forgive with our words but not with our hearts. There are times when we forgive in order to move on with our lives, but part of us is still stuck in the past.

We frequently hear the declaration: "I can forgive, but I won't forget". According to practitioners of the Sufi path, if one can't forget, one hasn't forgiven.

The truth of the Sufi perspective is often borne out in the experience of many of us. For example, we have an argument with our spouse or children or parents or friends or work mates. Suddenly, we are on a play-by-play excursion of mutual history, with color commentary. Details of incidents are dredged up which a person with total recall would find a challenge to remember.

The emotions of the moment have tapped into, and are being fed, by some deep, sub-surface reservoir of hurt. At the same time, the ego is always looking for an edge in situations. Consequently, the ego will resort to playing the memory card in order to try to gain the tactical high ground.

We tend to remember those things which, for whatever reason, have personal significance to us. One of the reasons why we forget events, or aspects of those events, is because they are deemed to be trivial or unimportant in nature. We can get along without them. We tend to remember those things for which we believe we will have some later use.

There may be a variety of reasons why we feel retaining memories of hurtful life experiences is of value to us. One possibility why we remember such events is to help us to avoid, or defend against, a repetition of the pain in the future.

When the structural character of current events begin to have a resonance with past memories involving pain, warning flags go up. The past is revisited, and we modulate our actions to reflect, in an advantageous way, our past experience. This sort of process is at the heart of all learning.

Another possibility why we remember painful events is as a prelude to payback time. We wait. We plan. We watch. We pounce. We get satisfaction, or, at least, our egos do.

As some people say: "What goes around, comes around". Payback often has a way of going and coming in cycles with the only difference being the identity of whom is the payer and payee on any given occasion.

Sometimes, in a very efficient but untidy manner, we can watch this cycle spinning its wheels before our very eyes. We accomplish this by taking turns with our current protagonist. First, we are on the business end of payback, and, then, it is time for us to make our contribution to civilization.

Another possibility concerning why we hold on to painful incidents from our lives is so we can visit, from time to time, the museum of hurt. Our egos seem to gain some sort of perverse comfort from such field trips.

For example, if we are feeling sorry for ourselves, the thought may come to us: Why don't we take a trip to the museum of hurt and run through our cavalcade of painful memories. Perhaps, we just are strolling down memory lane and happen to pass the museum on our way.

Something catches our attention in the window, and we go in to investigate. We often end up staying longer than originally intended.

In either case, we seem to derive strange sorts of reassurance and pleasure from doing this. There may be a variety of sources from which such pleasure and reassurance are derived.

Some of us do this in order to reconfirm our perceived identity as victims of some kind. Some of us make this journey because we feel it lends justification to our feelings of anger, envy, jealousy or hatred.

Some of us make this visit as a form of self-punishment. We consider ourselves to be losers, and, as a result, we go to the museum, look at its painful memories and say: "Only a loser could own a collection of hurt and sadness like this". We get satisfaction from this because, at least in this judgement of ourselves, we are right about something, such as it is.

We don't permit ourselves to let go of the past. Some of the reasons for not doing so are perfectly legitimate. Some of our reasons are merely rationalizations of the ego to camouflage its ploys and stratagems.

There are, at least, two species of: forgiving but not forgetting. One concerns the objective fact of a given event having taken place and, therefore, the reality of which cannot be denied.

Such an event is now part of history. Whatever transpired, occurred in a particular way at a specific time and place, within a certain context, involving various individuals.

One is no longer emotionally tied to this memory. One feels no sense of hurt from it. There is nothing in it for which one believes forgiveness of someone is any longer an issue. It no longer has a hallowed spot in one's museum of hurt. In fact, the memory is no longer even in the archives of that museum.

However, one was a witness to, and participant in, that event. The main theme(s) of the event, along with varying degrees of detail, have been extended a permanent visa in long-term memory. Initially, we may have had some reason for storing it, or it may be just one of those experiences which is stored in memory whether we like it or not.

Nonetheless, we rarely, if ever, think about the event. Moreover, it plays no part in adversely affecting, or undermining, or tainting our current relationships with those involved in the event. It is not a source of tension or conflict which permeates a relationship like some invisible, noxious gas.

There is another species of: forgiving but not forgetting, which is quite different from the foregoing. This form spawns subcutaneous doubt, suspicion, distrust, resentment, and antagonism. This species of "forgiving" negatively colors, shapes and orients practically everything we do with the individual whom we supposedly have forgiven.

This kind of "forgiveness" is constantly bracing itself for history to be repeated. It is ever vigilant for the detection of violations of the cease fire agreement.

This sort of "forgiveness" cannot divest itself of the past. The pain is still alive and on display in the museum of hurt.

We sometimes confuse the latter form of forgiveness with the former species of forgiveness. Sometimes we even may half-convince ourselves we no longer harbor any hurt feelings and have let go of our pain. Time will tell.

One might refer to the two varieties of forgiving as: resolved and unresolved forgiveness. In unresolved forgiveness, matters are being orchestrated by the ego.

The ego has a vested interest in keeping the hurt active. This hurt will be used as currency by the ego to subsidize one or more of its attempts to exploit subsequent situations for tactical advantage or in order to exact revenge.

For example, we claim to have forgiven someone. We later become involved in some sort of difficulty with that person and, immediately, the mind is flooded with the images and scenes of past hurt. The energy and feelings associated with these memories are then diverted to underwrite the construction of barriers of ill-will, suspicion and so on in the current situation.

In resolved forgiveness, each situation is considered on its merits, independently from whatever may have happened previously. If one has forgiven someone in a fully resolved manner, one is not flooded with memories of past indiscretions by the same person with whom one currently is having problems.

One is focused on what is happening now, not on what happened then. One is not pre-judging the situation in the colored light of the past.

Sometimes we forgive others, not because those people have done anything to us which requires forgiveness on our part, but as a kind of proof to ourselves that we are right and they are wrong. In such cases, we forgive in order to reinforce our ego's image of itself as occupying, in all situations, the moral high ground.

The thinking, such as it is, goes something like the following. Only a person who has been wronged in some way has cause to forgive. I am forgiving someone. Therefore, I must have been wronged in some way.

In reality, this tactic is a preemptive strike by the ego to divert attention away from its own culpability in the matters at hand. If I forgive you before you forgive me, then, from the perspective of the ego, this is tantamount to saying, using the 'logic' of the previous paragraph, that you were the transgressor in this situation, not me.

Our egos forgive to show a moral superiority to others it doesn't possess. Our egos forgive to demonstrate qualities of tolerance and magnanimity of which it is bereft.

There are occasions when our egos forgive to place others in our debt. At the right time, we present the invoice for our original forgiveness and demand payment.

On other occasions, our egos forgive because, at least for the present time, not forgiving is getting in the way of something else we want. We start our current negotiations with an act of forgiveness (a good will gesture as it were) and, then, proceed on to the main items on our agenda.

Forgiveness can be good for the business of the ego. Besides, if things don't work out, we always can retract our forgiveness, claiming, self-righteously, that the other person was negotiating in bad faith, and, therefore, didn't really deserve our forgiveness after all.

The practitioners of the Sufi path seek to actualize resolved forgiveness. Indeed, the Sufi masters are living exemplars of all that resolved forgiveness involves.

When Sufi shaykhs have been wronged and forgive those who have transgressed against them, then, God willing, the incident is never mentioned again, either externally or internally. The slate is wiped clean, as if nothing ever had appeared there. There is not even the minutest lingering chalk dust of resentment or irritation.

In this respect, the Sufi master is merely reflecting the quality of Divinity which proceeds in the same manner with respect to transgressions. In fact, God is the One who makes resolved forgiveness on the human level possible.

To truly forgive, in a resolved fashion, is Divinity in action. However, according to the practitioners of the Sufi path, we are under an obligation to strive for resolved forgiveness until it comes as a gift from God.

We are transgressing against God all the time. God is quite prepared to extend forgiveness to us in the fully resolved sense.

The spiritual etiquette of the situation requires we ask, in an official manner, through petitionary prayer, for such forgiveness. This spiritual etiquette further requires that we make a sincere undertaking to God to not commit the transgression again.

Committing oneself to such an undertaking, does not guarantee we will not make the same mistake in the future. Yet, if we do falter, God is prepared to forgive us again and again.

However, we cannot take God's forgiveness as a license. There are limits beyond which we transgress at our peril. Indeed, continuing to transgress in the same way, is a sign our repentance was not sincere when we sought God's forgiveness and claimed we would never again commit such transgressions.

Just as there is unresolved forgiveness, so too, there is unresolved repentance. Unresolved repentance is when forgiveness has been uttered by our mouths, but the desire for transgression remains in our hearts.

Sometimes, even when we have not realized our mistake and have not asked for forgiveness, God forgives us. God is so forgiving that the flimsiest of excuses often are offered by God on our behalf as a reason for forgiving us.

The Sufi masters reflect this Divine quality as well. They are constantly seeking forgiveness from God for our transgressions, both known and unknown, while making excuses on our behalf for why we should not be taken to task by God for our mistakes.

To seek to realize resolved forgiveness in our lives is an opportunity for spiritual growth. God orchestrates situations so we will be wronged by others and be faced with the struggle of whether or not to forgive sincerely and fully.

The more we are, by God's grace, able to struggle toward becoming disentangled from the problems surrounding and permeating unresolved forgiveness, the greater is the likelihood that, God willing, spiritual benefit will accrue to us. The more we are able, with God's help, to make resolved forgiveness a stable part of our way of interacting with other people, the better will things be for everyone involved.

Unresolved and resolved forgiveness both are inherently contagious. When we interact with other people through the agenda of unresolved forgiveness, there is a very strong tendency for the tension, conflict, antagonism, and suspicions which are part and parcel of that condition to spread to others with whom we interact.

On the other hand, when we interact with others through the quality of resolved forgiveness, there is a strong set of forces present which help induce others to reciprocate in kind. For example, when we encounter someone who treats us with genuine, sincere resolved forgiveness in relation to our transgressions against them, we begin to feel our grievances are trivial and petty and not worthy things to hold on to. Consequently, once we taste the experience of being forgiven in this complete manner, we often have a desire to extend this same manner of treatment to others.

The Prophets first contracted this syndrome through their dealings with God. Saints picked it up from the Prophets. Present-day Sufi masters are trying their best to infect us, God willing, with this spirit of resolved forgiveness.

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