Is forgiveness easier on an island?

I think I've mentioned this before, but I am a huge fan of Anne of Green Gables -- the books first, then the movie. Regardless of what age you are, I think these books are timeless. L.M. Montgomery wrote another series similar to the Anne stories called Emily of New Moon, a trilogy following the life of another orphaned girl (this time raven-haired, rather than red) also on Prince Edward Island. I'm almost halfway through the first book, and I'm finding many similarities to the Anne series -- a similar context, same flowery language, almost identical descriptions of the physical landscape. No matter -- it's a fabulous escape.

I came across a section last night that struck me in regard to my own struggles with forgiveness (I haven't written about that in a long time, but it's still lurking about). As it turns out, young Emily had her own struggle with forgiving someone who had hurt her -- in this instance, her stereotypical miserly, pinched, shrew of a spinster teacher, Miss Brownell, who had slapped the girl across the face in front of the entire class (boy, times sure have changed, thank goodness). Emily rushed home and, in a beautiful exercise, she grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote out her heart to her dead beloved father, thus relieving her own spirit of her anguish:

"My teacher's name is Miss Brownell. I don't like the cut of her jib. (That is a naughtical frays that Cousin Jimmy uses. I know frays is not spelled right but there is no dixonary at New Moon but that is the sound of it.) She is too sarkastik and she likes to make you rediklus. Then she laughs at you in a disagreable, snorting way. But I forgave her for slapping me, and I took a boquet to her to school next day to make up. She receeved it very coldly and let it fade on her desk. In a story she would have wepped on my neck. I don't know whether it is any use forgiving people or not. Yes, it is, it makes you feel more comfortable yourself."

[OK, ignore the spelling -- she's only 11]

But the point is wrapped up in those last two sentences -- so often it doesn't seem "worth it" to forgive, whether it does any use. But in the end it does, whether you "feel more comfortable yourself" or you just give yourself the freedom to move on from the situation and/or persons that hurt you.

This hit home for me recently because there have been strange stirrings going on in our lives revolving around "church stuff" -- first a nail-on-the-head sermon, then that same day a call from a church, then hearing of not one but two church plants involving people we know and love. All of this in a mere couple of days. It's bringing up a slew of feelings and, as I blogged about earlier, I'm not sure what to make of it all. But what I do feel is this: forgiveness is at the center of it. I've written about it, I've prayed about it, I've talked about it ... but I'm still not there yet. Something comes up unexpectedly -- like a call to ministry, or a random email last night from my former women's/mom's group of which I was a member in our last church -- and it brings back a flood of memories. It's so hard to forget, and let go of that bitterness ... let alone forgive.

But here's a thought that struck me today (I think after reading a friend's blog about her experience in seminary) -- it's nothing new or enlightening (at least not to me -- the thought, that is), but it did give me pause. I'm a Christian; by mere definition I am a follower of Christ. I believe in Jesus, so that means my life should reflect that. Some years ago "WWJD" ("What Would Jesus Do?") was all the rage for a while (or maybe still is ... I don't know), but despite it's almost gimicky simplicity there's a world of truth: What would Jesus do? What would Jesus do if he went through what we did? What would Jesus do if he was betrayed, if he was stabbed in the back, if he was treated like pieces of garbage that had no feelings, if he was lied about, if he was put down with verbal slurs, if he was quickly, quietly, and efficiently cast aside?

Ooohhh ... wait a second ... he did experience all of that, didn't he ... Our recent experiences, while not involving blood or instruments of ancient torture, did in some respects parallel what he experienced at the hands of his contemporaries. Talk about relating! So what would Jesus do? What should I do? "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." I wasn't hanging on a hideous cross (even though it felt like at times!), but I can't even muster those words. And yet ... I'm a Christian. I am a follower of Christ. "Father, forgive them ..."

But man, it's hard being a human being!

Maybe if I lived on Prince Edward Island things might be a little easier. :) Surrounded by this magnificent beauty, I think forgiveness would come much more easily ...