Helena Turner
St. Gertrude the Great Writing Group
Bridget walked through the thick fog toward the old church and quietly slipped through the giant double doors. She dipped her fingers in the holy water, made the sign of the cross, entered the nearest pew, and kneeled to pray. She was miserable. Exhausted from weeks of anger, rumination, and bad dreams. Her left hand clutched a crumpled piece of paper.
She closed her eyes. Lord, please help me, she prayed silently. I’m confused, and I don’t know what to do. But the memories surged up, interrupted her prayer, and hijacked her thoughts. She paused, tried again, and failed again. Bridget opened her eyes and tried to relax her clenched up body. “Lord, please help me,” she whispered, and stood up.
She walked across the church and joined the line of people waiting for the priest to hear their confessions. She opened the crumpled piece of paper. Nurturing imaginary angry conversations. Harboring resentment and grudges. Failing to forgive. The memories flashed again. Bridget shoved the paper into her purse. She fixed her eyes on the ribbon of warm light at the bottom of the confessional door and waited.
When her turn came, she opened the door, went inside, and lowered herself onto the kneeler. The door slowly closed behind her. The dark wood and soft light inside the tiny confessional felt safe and comforting.
“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” said a gentle voice on the other side of the partition. She recognized the voice belonging to Fr. Cleary and relaxed a little. “Amen,” she said. And then, “Bless me father, for I have sinned. It’s been two months since my last confession.”
“Go ahead,” he said. Bridget could see the faint outline of his head on the other side of the grille.
“I’ve been having angry thoughts,” Bridget said, choking up a little. “Imagining ways to punish someone for hurting me. I don’t want revenge, but the thoughts keep coming anyway. I can’t pray anymore, and my mind is out of control.” She paused. “I am sorry for these and all of my sins.”
“And what is happening in your life right now?” Fr. Cleary asked. “That you find yourself in this situation?”
“My manager was gossiping and lying about me to the other managers. She said I was late on my projects, and that I made mistakes and was unreliable. Things like that,” she replied.
“And was there any truth in what she said?”
“No. Claudia is always jealous of someone. I got an award last year for my work on another project. That’s when it started. But I was just denied a promotion because of her.”
“I see,” said Fr. Cleary. “Is she still doing this to you?”
“No.” Bridget replied. “She’s doing it to someone else now.”
“All right.” He paused, and then said very gently, “Now, I have a question for you. Have you forgiven her?”
“No,” she said, suddenly defensive. “She got away with it. She’ll never be held accountable for what she did.”
“People get away with terrible things all the time.” Fr. Cleary said patiently. “We forgive them anyway. Remember Jesus on the cross. They crucified him and he asked the Father to forgive them because they didn’t know what they were doing. We always have to forgive.”
“But Father,” Bridget protested, confused. “She knew exactly what she was doing. It’s not the same.”
“It is the same,” Fr. Cleary said firmly. “It’s exactly the same. And when you understand how it’s the same, you’ll be able to forgive, and the anger will end. You’re angry because you haven’t forgiven.”
“Ok.” Bridget relented. She wanted to cry.
Fr. Cleary sensed her confusion. “I know it’s hard,” he said, very gently. “But you have to make a choice. We all do. We choose the path of life, or we choose the path of death. There’s no other way. You want to stop being angry, right?”
“Yes,” Bridget said. “I do.”
“Okay good,” Fr. Cleary said. “Here, why don’t you try this and see if it helps?” He handed her a piece of paper.
Bridget took it and read the title: Exercise for the Forgiveness of Others.
“Ok,” she sighed. “I’ll try.”
“Good!” said Fr. Cleary. “That will be your penance.” Bridget said the closing prayer and Fr. Cleary prayed the words of absolution over her.
“Amen,” she said, “Thank you, Father.”
She stood up, left the confessional, and went back to the pew. She rubbed her neck and was relieved to discover that her body was beginning to relax. But then she read the paper and flinched. Claudia knew exactly what she was doing. How can someone know what they’re doing without knowing what they’re doing? It didn’t make sense. But when Bridget looked up at Jesus on the crucifix, suspended in midair above the altar, she remembered the words of a friend long ago, “How will you explain to Jesus that this was too hard?”
She resolved to do it. Step #1: Imagine Jesus sitting beside you, and ask, “Lord, who do I need to forgive?” Bridget closed her eyes and imagined Jesus sitting next to her and smiling at her. She felt safe and loved and happy beside him. I want this back, she thought. The way things were before Claudia.
Suddenly Claudia’s face, smug and self-righteous, flew into view and pushed Jesus away. Bridget felt a surge of anger. She clutched the edge of the pew. Hatred forced her eyes open. She leaned back in frustration then, but reminded herself of Fr. Cleary’s words: “You have to make a choice.”
She sighed deeply and read, Step #2: Reflect on the sins you confessed and the person connected to those wounds. Bridget remembered the fantasies of punishing Claudia that she had secretly indulged. How she had dreamed of humiliating her and holding her publicly accountable. The hidden, vindictive thoughts that had brought Bridget both great satisfaction and deep shame. I’m becoming just like Claudia, she thought.
More motivated now, she moved to Step #3: Now, imagine that the person you have chosen to forgive is sitting between you and Jesus. Bridget closed her eyes and imagined Claudia sitting between them in the pew. Claudia was beautiful, stylish, and impeccably dressed. She imagined Claudia realizing that she was sitting next to Jesus, and, true to character, Claudia began to fawn over him exuberantly. Bridget’s stomach turned in disgust.
I just want to get this over, she thought. Step #4: Feel the pain of how this person hurt you and share that pain with Jesus. Desperate, something deep inside Bridget released. She closed her eyes and poured everything out. She told Jesus that Claudia had bullied her through tiny, insidious lies. That she had twisted the truth to make Bridget appear stupid and unreliable. That Claudia was jealous and selfish and out of control. Bridget vented her anger, shame, and sadness onto Jesus until there was nothing left.
Jesus listened patiently and nodded at Bridget with a look of compassion and understanding. He sees it, she realized. He sees what’s been happening. She felt so much better. But next to Jesus, Claudia’s face was contorted.
“You’re lying,” Claudia lashed out at Bridget. “Stop lying!” Bridget leaned back and away from Claudia.
Claudia looked at Jesus, outraged. “She’s lying! She’s assassinating my character!” She was shrieking and pointing her finger at Bridget. Jesus was looking at Claudia now. He appeared to be listening to her very carefully.
“This isn’t true!” Claudia tried again, looking at Jesus in desperation. Claudia began to cry. Bridget didn’t move. Jesus was looking at Claudia with the same compassion and understanding as he’d had toward Bridget, but it was having a wildly different effect on Claudia. The more he understood, the more distraught Claudia became.
Bridget opened her eyes, stunned. She had not expected this. Step #5: Now imagine Jesus forgiving this person for their sins. Jesus looked at Claudia and said, “Father, forgive Claudia. She didn’t know what she was doing.” Claudia stared at Jesus, frozen in shock and fear.
Jesus turned to Bridget and nodded toward the paper in her hand. She looked down and read, Step #6: Look at the person you have chosen to forgive and say: “In the name of Jesus, I forgive you, _____.” Bridget inhaled and closed her eyes one more time. She turned toward Claudia.
“In the name of Jesus, I forgive you, Claudia,” she said. Bridget’s anger vanished. The tension in her body released, and she leaned back against the pew, surprised. Her skin was warm and tingling. She paused and then said it again. She felt more relief. She kept repeating the words until she noticed the gradual return of the peace that she had been missing for weeks.
When she was done, Bridget looked at Jesus. He was smiling at them both. A halo of warm light surrounded him, and the light was moving toward Claudia, who was now shivering violently. The light enveloped Claudia, and slowly she disappeared. Jesus smiled at Bridget one more time, and then he disappeared too.
Bridget opened her eyes. The fog outside had lifted. She looked up and saw golden rivers of light pouring through the windows high above, and the angels painted on the ceiling were twirling and swirling and dancing in it.