Holidays are time not just to give, but to forgive
I'm having a great time this Christmas season anticipating the day when the entire family comes together for a few hours of gift giving, laughter and love.
The neat thing about our family is that we don't fight on holidays. On those special occasions, everybody seems to get along, and there is plenty of frivolity to go around.
Now somebody is probably going to write to say that our lack of fighting is a sign of a dysfunctional family. Perhaps, but right now, I give thanks for any holiday that is serene.
I've known some families who expect a big fight to erupt every time they get together. Memories are often dangerous things. Hurts from years before, hidden from view on most days, suddenly pop out at the dinner table, and the fight is on.
Sometimes those battles end up with somebody getting hurt, leaving the festivities and never returning for another Christmas. That's a pity, because there is one simple thing you can do to ensure that those heated arguments do not escalate into lifelong separations.
The secret is to enter into every family gathering promising yourself one thing: that you will forgive whoever hurts you.
I'm not saying that past hurts and resentments should not be talked about, but the time has to be right. The dinner table is not the place to discuss what your brother Fred said about you in 1978.
If those old resentments are to be talked about at all, the conversation ought to take place in a controlled situation when a third party is present to mediate. And those difficult situations should be focused on compromise and reconciliation. You might reach a solution, but you're not going to win the entire family war.
It's very important to remember that you may never forget the incident - the dirty trick, the harsh words, the gossip that hurt you. But forgiving someone means never bringing it up again. When you forgive, you make a decision to carry the burden of the memory and never again make it a topic of conversation.
Brother Fred says, "I'm sorry I did that to you." He may have to say it five times. But finally the words come out of your mouth: "Fred, I forgive you." Then the matter is sealed forever, and the memory is between the two of you. No one else in the family needs to know.
At family holiday gatherings, that is the holy moment. When forgiveness happens, the Christmas gospel takes shape in human flesh. That is the moment when Jesus Christ comes into Christmas as a whimpering baby bringing divine love to the world and especially to you.
You may not like brother Fred. You don't have to like every member of your family. You may still think brother Fred is a jerk, but now you have forgiven him and the relationship has changed.
But before you can forgive, you have to forgive yourself for the years of resentment and hostility. Yes, you have harbored negative feelings, and there were probably times when you lashed out at others because of those long-ago memories.
But how does one forgive oneself?
You declare it, just as your pastor declares absolution on Sunday mornings. You say, I forgive myself. Then you are free, and every time those thoughts surface, you say it again.
And finally, you ask for help from God. Prayer is the glue that holds healed relationships together. My advice: Because maintaining those relationships is a lifelong challenge, ask for strength. Because old memories will always resurface, ask for serenity. Because past resentments are still in your heart, ask for the capacity to love.
After all the beatings Christmas has taken over the years, with department stores and malls replacing the wise men and the shepherds and the lowly manger, the wonder is that a spiritual emphasis exists at all.
We keep it alive in our relationships. That is the miracle, that the Christ child still moves people to love and forgive.
Clark D. Morphew
12-14-96
