Easter Forgiveness

Years ago, I went to Charlotte beach on Lake Ontario with my girlfriend Anita -- a beautiful girl from Drogheda Ireland with whom I had traveled to Portugal one summer and who later came to live in Rochester for a brief moment in time.



We were sitting on the beach surrounded by girls with big hair wearing tiny, neon bikinis. And their boyfriends were wearing leather vests over their shirtless chests along with jeans (i.e., not shorts). Perfect for an 80 degree day.

Anita turned to me and quoted Jesus' words from the cross in Luke 23:34, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

I think of her every Easter and hope that she's doing well wherever she is!

Holy Roller

Yep, more God stuff that my brother detests . . . D'oh!

My girlfriend and I had a brief conversation when we were leaving church yesterday about becoming "holier than thou." Whereas she knew that reading the Bible and applying it to her life has been making her a better person, she also recognized that others might still see her flaws and not want to subscribe to any religion that would accommodate someone who behaves as poorly as she. (Her perception not mine.)

I felt the same way for years. For a long time, I didn't want to share my faith for a number of reasons including:
1) I always thought that Christians were stupid -- ergo, others probably now think that I am a total idiot (and who could blame them?).
2) My behavior didn't change overnight; therefore, I could predict overhearing the following in Thirsty's as I did a bar crawl, "I thought she was a believer. Some Christian she is."

But the simple fact is, I haven't actually done a bar crawl in years. And that's not because I'm a holy roller but rather because I'm in my 40s, don't get out much and, when I do, my nights are not typically wild. (Note the use of "typically" -- I still have my moments.) However, the truth is: I never really did many bar crawls. That was (and is) more the province of my rowdier girlfriends. And it's still hysterical to witness.

However, instead of covering up my faith because I am a sinner and might give Christianity a bad name, I now recognize that I would rather change my life to be a better reflection of God. Not easy (I still keep falling) but better than the alternative.

One friend, when talking faith, always quotes John Lennon, "Whatever gets you through the night; it's alright." This view is much more tolerant than any I ever espoused historically but also doesn't quite describe my current leaning. To me, faith hasn't served as a crutch that makes me feel better about myself. Instead, the opposite has happened. It has opened giant areas of my life that desperately needed attention. Things I had previously chosen to ignore or I simply never considered to be issues, are now brought to life with a loud (but understanding) "So, what are you going to do about it?" question.

I grew up with this vision of God as a distant entity who had much bigger fish to fry than to deal with my little problems. People were starving in Africa and this little girl in Junior High wants a boyfriend? How selfish and petty is she? I thought I was bothering him when I would ask for anything through my prayer life and, since I never saw any of my prayers answered anyway, I thought he didn't really give a shit. More importantly, I always thought that I never measured up to his expectations. I was supposed to be perfect and I wasn't. Really, who wants that kind of constant condemnation in life? Not me.

I'm still unbelievably far from perfect (farther than I can fathom) but I now understand that I'm deeply loved in spite of all of this. He knows exactly how I act and think but still somehow loves me. How cool is that? Now that makes me want to be a better person . . . not to avoid disapproval but rather to please him. Who knew?

Mistakes, I've Made a Few

My boss is not one for drama. She has only one request from us, "no surprises." If something goes wrong, she wants to know immediately. And she typically calms people down by saying things like, "Did anyone die? Did we lose a million dollars? No? Then take a deep breath."

I learned this same lesson from my mom when I was in high school.

Just before my parents left the country for a Rhine cruise, my mother mistakenly said to a group of my girlfriends, "No parties in the house when we're gone." The minute she walked away, one friend said, "Your parents are going away and you weren't planning to tell us?" I knew I was screwed.

I didn't personally plan the party but tons of people showed up. It wasn't fun at all because I was so worried but I relaxed after everyone left and the remaining few girlfriends and I danced around to the B52's and Gary Numan.

The next morning, when we were cleaning, one of my friends discovered it: a giant burn hole in my parents' dining room table. No exaggeration, it was probably 3" wide and 1" deep. There was nothing I could do but prepare for the worst.

When my parents arrived home, the first words out of my mother's mouth were, "Were you good while we were gone?" I immediately burst into tears. Even before I could ask how their trip was, I showed them the table.

My mom's response? "Relax. It's only a dining room table. Actually, I've wanted to sand out the cat paw prints anyway."

It was a watershed moment for me. Possessions don't matter in the grand scheme of life. But love and forgiveness rule.