If I were a Jew

In the years following my divorce I was a pretty angry person.  I was mostly angry at God for not making more of an effort to save me from a marriage that shattered any understanding I had of this Supreme Being.  The audible ‘NO’ that spun me around on the ferry headed to Hainan Island when I prayed if the woman standing on the fading gangplank below was the one wasn’t enough and it set the table for eight years of unmerciful misery and doubt followed by another ten years of a nomadic searching for answers.  

And as a result of my loss of understanding in God’s occupation my anger went after those around me.  And those around me then are not around me today. 

If I were a Jew I’d consider Yom Kipper.  And before I’d seek atonement with God I’d have to seek reconciliation and right the wrongs I’ve committed against others.  That’s a hard, though not impossible task for an Irish Catholic.  I know there’s no peace or justification in having any ‘certainty’ of transgression I held in my heart towards others. Guilt always has its way of remaining, and though the thorn in my conscience has tempered with time the transgression is never justified.

If I were a Buddhist and turned compassion into practice, I’d understand compassion’s link with forgiveness and that anger has its consequences with effects long after the transgression:

All actions are led by the mind; mind is their master, mind is their maker.

Act or speak with a defiled state of mind, and suffering will follow as the cart-wheel follows the foot of the ox.
All actions are led by the mind; mind is their master, mind is their maker.
Act or speak with a pure state of mind, and happiness will follow as your shadow that remains behind without departing.

After the divorce my attitude towards anything Evangelical became toxic and I could not listen to their reasonings and their nature of God because they couldn’t understand my own dissent and dissolution with a faith I no longer accepted.  In my blog I’ve written I was, subconsciously then, still a Catholic learning the ways of the reformers. I found fault with those who said they knew ‘for certain’ how God worked.  I resented the hypocrisy and arrogance and severed the ties and left without the friends of Job for the answers to the questions that consumed me.

So?  Have you found the answers you were looking for?  I have though more questions replaced those original questions.  And is it in your heart to reconcile with those you once broke bread with?  I don’t know.  I know it's the right thing to do so, the Jews and Buddhists say so, and I don’t want pride to stop me from reconciling.  I think I fear anyone trying to re-convert me to the ways I once was.  I am not that person anymore and I have little patience for preachers of certainty. 

I want to ask for forgiveness but nothing will be the same.  Time outgrows relationships, especially for one who can't remain in one place.  A colleague asked me about my work experience and I was a bit embarrassed to admit since 1990 I’ve had eleven jobs in five countries.  I understand friends I went to St. Bedes with don’t have time to listen to me whine about things they can’t relate to.  Our lives are hectic enough without someone bleating seven thousand miles away and I understand that.  

 And I saw close friends from Lathrup High School four years ago and it was good to connect again but we have different lives and as long as we live world’s apart what we have is what we have.  And then there are the Tyndale people.  I was a raw piece of flesh there, expecting a hellava lot from God and leaving unsure what the hell I was supposed to believe.  It’s easy in hindsight to see why shit happens but at the time, holy shiva cow who wants to wander in the wasted land forever? 

Can I ask forgiveness with conditions?  You’re a putz.  I don’t want to not reconcile, I know there is peace, the sacred says so, and that’s what I want and desire in life. So?  What's holding you back?  I am willing to in person.  I am.