Photo by Marius Dumitrascu on Unsplash
You all met my favorite aunt in my post Wasted time and the art of rest. She’s sort of my spiritual guru, comedy partner, and therapeutic conversation buddy all in one, plus more. I was blessed to be able to visit her this weekend (she lives in the UK, while I live in Italy) and it allowed me to reflect on grace.
In one of our many long conversations, she shared an experience that taught her the healing quality inherent in freely offering love to a person we feel doesn’t deserve it.
In another of our conversations, we examined how easy it is to find fault in others and yet how liberating it is to offer them grace. By that, I simply mean recognizing that other people are human beings just as we are, and we can choose to offer them the same compassion we ourselves wish to receive.
Who doesn’t have at least one person they feel has done them wrong? Think of who that person is for you. They wronged you, and perhaps you stew in that and reflect on that and rehash—over and over and over and over—the ways they mistreated you.
While that can sometimes offer a sense of righteous satisfaction, it also keeps you in a holding pattern of shame, blame, and negativity. Also, it makes that person all this (bad things), and none of that (good things).
No one is all one thing and none of another thing. The simple truth is that although we may feel justified in our anger, continuing to stew in this toxic mixture and play these tapes of anger on repeat moves us further away from having a heart filled with joy and love.
Here’s the thing: we can offer other people grace even when we feel—even when we know for a fact—they don’t deserve it.
Let’s look at a practical example. Say you have a little story about something this person did that makes them look stupid or a tale that fully showcases all of your “greatest hits” about why the person is just plain awful. You tell it to whoever will listen because it’s the perfect way to reaffirm: “See why I’m right and they’re wrong? See how ridiculous/shameful/self-centered/cruel they are? See why I’m justified in holding this anger/negativity/blame/grudge/insert-feeling-here against them?”
Now: what if, instead of telling that story to whoever will listen, even if it’s just yourself (and especially if it’s just yourself), you simply offered them grace?
What if you tried to see it from their perspective and recognized that they’re doing the best they can; and in doing so, offered them empathy and compassion?
That’s what I mean by offering grace. Letting go of the need to be right. Letting go of the need to prove you were justified in doing whatever you did. Letting go of the need to show you didn’t make any mistakes. Letting go of the need to show how you were so grievously wronged.
Often in life, two seemingly contradictory things can coexist:
I love you, and I’m telling you no.
I love you, and I don’t like what you’re doing.
I’m angry and never want to speak to you again, and I release my need to continue to hate you.
I can’t forgive what you did, and I choose to move on from it.
I don’t know about you, but I can’t do this kind of thing on my own. Before God blessed me with the grace to develop a prayerful connection to his Son and the many inspiring saints I’ve come to know and love (especially those in the Carmelite tradition), I used to hold onto my self-righteous anger for dear life. My stories practically begged whoever would listen: Can’t you see how awful that person is? Can’t you see how much better I deserved?
Offering grace to others is much easier if we ask God to help us do so.
As with any difficult action, it takes practice. I have a few things you can try.
Have you watched the Netflix documentary Stutz? It made the rounds late last year and continues to bear much fruit in my life. Phil Stutz is a psychiatrist and psychotherapist who developed what he calls “The Tools” to help his patients (and anyone, really) live fuller, freer, more joyful lives.
The situation I’m discussing today, in which we hold on tightly to stories we tell ourselves about how we’ve been wronged, he calls “The Maze.”
Here’s Dr. Stutz’s clinical and writing partner, Dr. Barry Michels, explaining it:
It happens when you’ve been wronged in some way, and you can’t stop thinking about the person who wronged you. You go over what they did to you in your mind, and you can’t let go of it—it’s like you’re literally trapped in a maze. We get into this state of mind because on an unconscious level, we all have a child-like expectation: If I’m a good person, life will treat me fairly. Then, when somebody is rude to you, or cheats you in some way, that little kid inside you digs his heels in and refuses to let go of it until the other person apologizes.
And yet, so many times in life, we’re simply not going to get that apology. The wrong is never going to be righted. So, now what?
The tool Stutz and Michels use with their patients to help them exit The Maze is a process called “Active Love.” If you want to try it, they explain it here.
Essentially, it’s a structured yet very simple way of offering grace to another, and in so doing, setting yourself free.
If you want to offer grace but you can’t do it alone, pray for God’s grace to work through you.
The Buddhist practice of Maitri (loving-kindness) is something you could try. In a simplified form, it’s this: recite the four lines below in a contemplative way, first for those you love, then for those you don’t love, then for those you don’t know. Here, we’re primarily interested in how it feels to say these lines for those we “don’t love.”
Give it a try and see how it feels. Hold that person in your heart and genuinely offer up these wishes for them:
May you be happy
May you be healthy
May you be safe
May you live with ease
This is a gift you can give freely; in the end, you may come away surprised about how much you actually receive.