Belated, late night convention thoughts

(I’m writing from Pittsburgh 2011, MCUSA’s biennial convention. I had planned to do more blogging. Alas, with a variety of unforeseen family stuff, it just hasn’t happened. So I begin here with a reflection on Shane Hipps’ message at the opening worship service. This blog is cross-posted at the Pink Menno website.)

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From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.

II Corinthians 5.16-20

It’s late Wednesday evening at the Mennonite convention in Pittsburgh. I’m typing in my hotel lobby, so as not to wake the sleepers in my room. I had intended to do some reflecting Monday… or Tuesday… or even this morning. But sometimes the days don’t quite go as expected at convention.

On Monday evening, we opened the week with a joint worship service of youth and adults. In his message to us that evening, Shane Hipps considered how we often find two impulses at odds within the Church: the desire for holiness and the desire for justice. However, Shane told us that Paul (in his letter to the Corinthian Church) describes a third, more difficult option. This option is a higher calling. It is the way of reconciliation.

Shane also took some time to describe the cells in a healthy organism: how they grow, divide, and specialize to take on the variety of tasks that need to be done. But when cells grow and divide unchecked, the organism faces something sinister: cancer. Shane expressed concern that the Mennonite Church is approaching this point. Therefore, he implored us to take up the way of reconciliation.

He reminded us that throughout its history, the Church has faced growth-related challenges before. If I recall correctly, two problems for the early Church (the slaughter of meat and the debate surrounding circumcision) were cited. These days, we don’t regard these things as problems at all. The two sides were reconciled long ago.

Shane took some time to describe how it is possible for both sides (holiness and justice) to quote scripture and to enter into a “victim” narrative. “The problem is that the emotions of justice and purity (anger, fear, and hurt) are innate to us. They come naturally. Justice and peace are categories of the world. When you have categories, suddenly you have colors, and when you have colors, you have tribal warfare.” (I’m not sure that the quote is quite right, but that’s what mPress has, so I’ll go with it.)

Wow. I came out of the first worship feeling… what? Hurt? Convicted? Guilty? Here I had come to Pittsburgh ready to wear my pink stuff, but maybe what I’m doing is causing division. That requires some serious reflection on my part. So that’s what I started doing, even as the rain was still falling on the roof during the Monday evening worship service.

And after a couple of days, here are my thoughts:

1) The use of the word “color” was unfortunate. In a public way, it singled out (without actually naming names) those who are on the “justice” side. I am, of course, referring to Pink Menno. One might imagine that such a direct reference would result in some degree of shame. The result of this shame would be a tendency to withdraw; to become colorless, if you will. That would be unhealthy.

(The cancer metaphor was also unfortunate, because of its unintended implications for the nature of Pink Menno.)

2) There are issues of power that weren’t addressed. It is difficult to talk about reconciliation when one group wields power over another. The very real situation is that LGBTQ persons are not welcomed at convention or in positions within MCUSA. Pink Menno, MennoNeighbors, and BMC are not allowed space in the exhibition hall. When they wished to hold a welcoming worship service, it had to occur at a nearby UCC congregation. At some point, issues of power and oppression must be addressed as a precursor to reconciliation.

3) We may wish to consider some more recent examples in the tension between holiness and justice. It is true that we don’t think about ritual slaughter and circumcision much any more. But we are still thinking about gender and race inequalities. To the extent that reconciliation has occurred, it has occurred because injustices were addressed. That work continues.

4) Shane described reconciliation as a higher calling than working for holiness or justice. I don’t necessarily disagree. On the other hand, I wonder if Jesus didn’t see reconciliation as being intimately connected to justice. In the Gospels, we see the tension between holiness and justice when we examine the interaction between the Pharisees and Jesus. And Jesus says, “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’” Mercy is the inclination to justice, while sacrifice is the inclination to holiness. Jesus transgressed the walls erected in the interest of holiness to reach those who were “unclean”. In the process, he judged that the walls themselves (and not the persons) were that which was unclean.

Note: The Wipf and Stock booth in the exhibition hall has a wonderful book (“Unclean” by Richard Beck) which specifically addresses these issues.

5) Finally, I am reminded that Pink Menno is a group which is fundamentally about reconciliation: reconciling all God’s children into the Church.

It is with these thoughts in mind that I decided to relax about wearing pink. And I was glad to see a different color metaphor reported in the second edition of mPress this week. The president of Mennonite World Conference said:

For me, Mennonite World Conference is like a flowerbed with many beautiful colors. You walk the streets and reds, yellows, and blues. That’s what Mennonite World conference is all about.

I envision a flowerbed that includes some pink, as well.

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I write all of this with some amount of trepidation, realizing that I have a natural tendency to get defensive when challenged. So in humility, I welcome loving discussions from anyone. I am not part of the LGBTQ community. On good days, I’m an ally. But I am a white, educated, middle class, North American, heterosexual male. I have just about any privilege one could imagine. I try to hold that lightly.

If you happen to read this before the end of convention and care to chat, look for the guy with the crocheted pink hat. That’s probably me.

Worship ideas… “The Naked Anabaptist” by Stuart Murray

At the beginning of July, I became the Lay Minister of Worship in our congregation. I work with the pastors and the Worship Commission to plan our worship services, and I also serve on the Ministry Team – a sort of board of directors for our congregation. The job is both more hectic and rewarding than I would have thought.* It is hectic just because of all the details to keep in place. It is rewarding because I love my community and I’m thankful to be able to serve them this way.

* The most ironic part of this is that Ordinary Spouse was in this position before I was. You’d think that I would have known what I was getting into. Nope.

Anyway, since this role is consuming a sizeable chunk of my mental energy these days, I thought that I might share some of our worship ideas, from time to time. This blog entry is the official kick-off for that. (Kick-off, as opposed to the ‘first’. For the first, go back to lent this year and check out the bulletin covers.)

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Stuart Murray has recently released a book entitled The Naked Anabaptist. Of course, many people hear the word ‘Anabaptist’, and they think ‘Mennonite’ or ‘Amish’. (And they probably don’t think ‘naked’.) But Stuart (writing from a British perspective) wanted to ask, “What is left after you strip away all of the cultural trappings that are traditionally associated with Anabaptists?” His answer to that question has found its way into this book as a group of seven core convictions. He discusses them in a recent article in the Mennonite.

 

In my congregation, we’re using the book as the basis for an eight part series* reflecting on our faith and on Anabaptism. I think that my hope is twofold. First, given the division that the congregation has experienced in the last two years, I hope that the book provides a common focal point. Secondly, though, I hope that we find this book to be challenging. Challenging because true discipleship is always challenging, and because I think that the Mennonites have allowed some of their distinctive witness to diminish.

* If you’re doing the math and it isn’t working (seven convictions; eight-part series), it’s because we’ll be celebrating All Saints Day in the middle of the series. All Saints celebration is an important tradition in the congregation that we didn’t want to skip, so we made it part of the series. We’ll be remembering both our loved ones and our ancestors in faith who have died.

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A couple of notes:

 

1) Coincidentally, the Mennonite congregation in Metamora, Illinois, is also doing a series using this book as guidance. Michael Danner (the pastor at Metamora) always has interesting thoughts on his blog.

2) This past Sunday, our congregation looked at the resources that Anabaptists have for living in the post-Christendom era. ‘Christendom’ is the uneasy alliance between the church and state that has existed since the time of Constantine. Whenever people call the United States a “Christian nation”, they’re talking about Christendom. As a result of Christendom, Christians in this country have a number of privileges that they take for granted. Murray argues that Christendom is ending (in North America and in his native Europe), and that something else will take its place. However, we don’t yet know what that “something” is. In the meantime, we have post-Christendom.

Ironically, the American Spectator recently published an article entitled “Mennonite Takeover?” If that seems a bit far-fetched, there are others who agree with you.

A Pretty Good Weekend, Day 1

Well – it’s the beginning of another work week, but I wanted jot down some thoughts on this past weekend, in case I ever want to remember it.

So am I a real Mennonite now?

For the sake of the story, I’m actually going to begin right in the middle of the weekend: the worship service yesterday morning at church. We began a series of eight Sundays looking at Stuart Murray’s new book, “The Naked Anabaptist“. It tries to address the question of what Anabaptism would look like if we stripped away all of the cultural stuff that comes with it in North America today.* And yesterday, our pastor gave four examples of the the cultural stuff: food, four-part singing, playing the Mennonite game, and quilting.**

* I may eventually get around to blogging about the book. In the meantime, I’ll just say that I like it. It’s challenging and very readable. Follow the link in order to learn more.

** I think I got those right, but I didn’t jot them down during the sermon.

So why is it that I’d begin telling about my weekend by starting in the middle? Because on Saturday, I partook in all four of those examples at the Michiana Relief Sale in Goshen, Indiana. I don’t know if anyone else would find that amusing, but to me it felt a bit like the beginning of Lent. Saturday was the equivalent of Mardi Gras: Menno cultural extravagence. And Sunday was like Ash Wednesday: getting back to the ‘bare essentials’.

Much to many people’s astonishment, this Relief Sale was my first. Now – to those of you who aren’t culturally Mennonite, that won’t be anything earthshaking. But for someone who is as culturally Mennonite as I am, it’s a bit surprising that I’ve made it this far through my life without getting to one. For example, my sister estimated that she has been to about fifteen of these. And my wife has been to Relief Sales in four different locations. Yes – they happen all over the place.

Since this was my first sale, I decided to record some sights:

We missed the Friday evening events while we were travelling from Illinois to Indiana, but we got up in time to eat breakfast at the sale on Saturday. When we got to the fairgrounds we parked in the orange lot… which is distinguished by a picture of a watermelon! Go figure.

Since this was my first sale, I don’t claim to speak with any authority, but it would seem that getting there for breakfast on Saturday is a ‘must’. Here was the line for the ‘all-you-can-eat’ pancakes.

And here is my breakfast.

(It’s not all-you-can-eat sausage, but between you and me – that’s not a huge loss.)

It was a cold day, so I washed that down with a mocha, courtesy of the Electric Brew.

And from there on, I spent most of the day at the quilt auction.

As far as I know, the highest price paid for a quilt on Saturday was $5000. On Facebook, one of my cousins expressed some incredulity that I’d enjoy watching people buy quilts. But I actually had a great time, in part because I just like auctions. It’s always fun to try to understand the incoherent jabbering of the auctioneer and to watch the crowd’s enthusiasm when the bidding gets competitive.

Let’s see… highlights other than the quilt auction…

• I saw friends from Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, and Pennsylvania. I stopped counting at fifteen while I was still in the breakfast line.
• My daughters took train and elephant rides.
• I had a pecan pie for lunch.

And that’s about it. According to my wife, that’s all it ever is: food and auctions.

That was Day 1 of a Pretty Good Weekend. Day 2 is here…

Finding Community

This morning at my congregation I’m giving the message – the first one that I’ve ever shared there. My message is drawn from my reflections on the lectionary readings for today, especially the gospel: Isaiah 65.1-9, Galatians 3.23-29, and Luke 8.26-39. Here’s what I’m sharing (placed after the jump, due to its length)…

A New Kind of Christianity – Q#1

Earlier this year, Brian McLaren’s book, A New Kind of Christianity, was published. I was anxious to read it because of how valuable his other books (especially A Generous Orthodoxy) have been to me. Brian and others have suggested that God’s Spirit is causing Christians to explore new ways to live faithfully in a post-modern world (“Emerging Church” is one name that is often given to this movement), and that there are some common questions that people are asking as a result. In his new book, Brian raises ten of these questions. I think that the questions are exciting: first, because I was asking many of the same things, but more importantly because I believe that they provide space for new life in the Church.

The goal (says Brian) is not to arrive at a set of answers, but rather to begin a conversation. Now – Brian is sometimes accused of presenting his (unorthodox? heretical?) answers to these questions as being definitive and not open to discussion. However, I decided it would be healthy for me to take him at his word – that this really is a discussion – and enter into it, as well. I even recruited my Ordinary Spouse to read the book and discuss it with me. My goal is to do some reflecting here on each of his questions. We’ll see how this goes, starting with question #1…

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Question 1 – What is the overarching storyline of the Bible?

Western Christianity (according to Brian) tends to read the Bible in reverse, looking back through the influence of our modern teachers and preachers, through the Reformers, through the Church fathers (where are the mothers?), through Paul, eventually seeing Jesus. The result is that we see a biblical narrative that is strongly influenced by Greek thought and Roman empire. This storyline consists of six segments: 1) it begins with perfection in Eden, 2) veers downward through the Fall 3) into Condemnation, 4) which then leads farther downward to Hell 5) or to back upward via Salvation 6) to a restored state of perfection in Heaven. This “six-line” narrative reveals the influence of Greco-Roman thought by morphing the garden into an ideal, neo-Platonic state of being. This perfect “state” (in which God also exists) is glorified; change or “becoming” (which reflects Aristotelian influence) is discouraged – in fact, God avoids it (which is why Jesus had to die for the sin of humanity… but that comes up in a later question).

Brian then asks a question which is troubling: “Can we dare to wonder, given an ending that has more evil and suffering than the beginning, if it would have been better for this story never to have begun?”

In contrast, what would we find if we set aside some of the usual lenses through which we view the Bible and tried to see Jesus and his ministry through the Old Testament? Brian points out that words like “fall” and “original sin” aren’t used in the Hebrew scriptures; that Eden isn’t described as “perfect”, but as “good”; that God doesn’t avoid humanity and has no problem looking at sin; that in fact, God has always been intimately involved in guiding human development. He outlines three parts to the biblical narrative that are suggested by Genesis, Exodus, and the prophets (especially Isaiah). First, we have a tendency to mess up God’s good creation, but God works for reconciliation. Second, we oppress others and suffer oppression ourselves, but God works as liberator. Third, God has given us a vision of a coming kingdom – not one in an eternal heaven, but rather one that we are to work toward here and now on earth.

Response

Ordinary Spouse and I are in agreement with Brian’s assertion that the “six-line” narrative is a common way of approaching the story of the Bible. We recognize the dualism inherent in that approach, although we don’t have the knowledge to critique its origin in Greek thought. (Indeed, Brian acknowledges that he simplifies things quite a bit.) In our experience, Mennonites often tweak this story line by adding an emphasis (either lived or preached) on our responsibility to our neighbors – to pray for “God’s kingdom to come on earth as it is in heaven”, if you will. Yet, it seems to us that in the absence of any motivation to do otherwise, Mennonites adopt the predominant, Evangelical “six-line” narrative that Brian outlines. Sermons often emphasize personal salvation, and altar calls occurred with some regularity (though perhaps not weekly). But no one asked Brian’s question: why would God create a world where the ultimate average trajectory is downward, rather than upward?

I have never thought about the issue of being vs. becoming to the degree that Brian does. However, I don’t think I’ve viewed God as static in the way that Brian associates with the “six-line” narrative. A random thought: it’s fascinating that God views creation as “good” and then “very good”. Why wouldn’t God just make everything “perfect”? One might argue that God values the creative aspect more highly than the finished product (which isn’t to say that the finished product isn’t important). To consider this thought a bit more, we see throughout the Biblical story that God allows (even encourages and invites!) a creative struggle with humans. Already in the garden, we see Adam naming the animals. We see Abraham striving for the future of Sodom and Gomorrah. Jacob wrestles with God. Prophets demand justice. And so on. And we see an upward trajectory throughout the Bible as the human creative urge learns to align with God’s.

I do wish that Brian would have addressed the concept of Hell a bit more in this section (and maybe that’s still to come in the book). There are some pretty vivid images of Hell in the New Testament, and though it is clear that the images are not intended to be literal and that the New Testament understanding of Hell is different than what the modern Church seems to have inherited, we still should understand how these images fit into the story.

Overall, though, I really appreciate the effort that Brian makes to give us a view of the Biblical narrative as an unfolding relationship between God and God’s people – one that is moving toward the prophet’s vision of God’s peaceable kingdom here with us.

Lent in pictures

(Also known as “Getting Caught Up, Part IV”)

Many Mennonite congregations are using the theme “Holding On and Letting Go” during Lent.  Ordinary Spouse and I put together six images (one for each Sunday of Lent) that reflect this theme and also allude to the lectionary reading for the week.  The group of images will be used as bulletin covers in our congregation.

Week 1 – Luke 4
(Jesus’ temptation to turn stones to bread)

Week 2 – Genesis 15
(God’s covenant with Abram; promises of a land and descendants)

Week 3 – Isaiah 55
(Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters)

Week 4 – Luke 15
(The prodigal sons and the waiting father)

Week 5 – John 12
(Mary anoints Jesus)

Week 6 (Palm Sunday) – Luke 22
(Institution of the Lord’s Supper)

I’m not the only one asking the “Why are you (still) Mennonite?” question

Three weeks ago during the Mennonite convention at Columbus, I reflected a bit (here and here) on why I’m a Mennonite and what keeps me in the denomination.  It turns out that I’m not the only one doing some reflecting…

My dear friend, who is anything but a “cradle Menno”, also had some thoughts on this right after she returned from Columbus.

And Urban Mennonite, who is much more culturally Menno, has observations that pretty well reflect how I feel.  And while you’re there, take a look at that first comment.  I’ve asked the same question already, and I have no idea if I’ll ever make it to seminary or not.

(Slightly related note: Mennonites talk a whole bunch about the importance of community.  I’m not sure we know what we mean by that.  I’m going to have to reflect on that one…)

Columbus 2009

I hinted earlier today that summer vacation is about to begin.  Next week, my family will be travelling to Ohio for the biennial convention of the Mennonite Church in the United States.  I’m looking forward to it.

A conversion story

(Or, how a conservative Mennonite boy came to be ‘Open and Affirming’.)

As I’ve mentioned previously, my congregation is currently going through a discernment process regarding granting membership to same-gender couples in committed relationships.  And I’ve found myself (as should be obvious to anyone who read the earlier post) quite squarely on the side of those advocating for an open and affirming membership policy.  As I reflect on my life, however, I find it a bit curious that fifteen years ago, I probably would have been voting and arguing on the other side.  So I thought I’d reflect a bit here on why that is.  Maybe it will be useful for my family or friends to read as well – especially for those for whom my “conversion” is recent, unexpected, or even unwelcome news.

Fertile Soil

I think you can start with how I was raised, which is to say that I love Jesus and am committed to trying to walk as he taught.  This was true then, and it is true now.  It also may be a bit of a surprise, but I’d still claim to be conservative – conservative in the sense that I take the Bible seriously.  I don’t throw out what I don’t like. I think if there’s something there that makes me uncomfortable, I better face it head on and try to understand it.  Well – fifteen years ago, I thought I understood pretty well what the Bible had to say to the LGBT community^*.  I was about to get a thorn in my side.

^* I hate always using acronyms, but as my conversion is in some ways very recent, I don’t have a better way to say “lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender” yet.  And you better believe I’m not going to type that out every time.  I’m sure someone will help me with vocabulary if it’s important.

A Seed Planted

Somehow, I started reading What’s So Amazing About Grace? by Philip Yancey.  I don’t know why I picked it up, but it convinced me that the Church has done a pretty poor job of sharing the love of Christ with LGBT brothers and sisters.  Probably many in the Church feel the same.  And so I started looking for some way to do this – to share the love of Christ with them – while not condoning their choices in life partners.  Looking back now, I never had any success with that, and I no longer believe it’s possible.

A Plant Nourished

I happened to read Yancey’s book at a time when my wife and I were living in Ann Arbor and attending a diverse congregation – diverse in the sense of a variety of opinions and beliefs.  It’s possible that I was among the most conservative people in the congregation – conservative in every sense of the word at that time.  In fact, I almost didn’t attend, even though my wife had already worshipped with them for two years at the time when we got married and I moved to town.  I considered asking her to look for a new congregation – I was just that disturbed by the variety.  In the end, it was the overwhelming sense of community that I observed (and received) that kept me there in the early years of our marriage.

Anyway, I learned over time that it is possible to live and worship with someone even though the two of you disagree.  In fact, it is grace (getting back to the book) that partly makes this possible.  Grace allows us to take a risk and get involved with something that makes us uncomfortable, knowing that if we’ve made a mistake, God’s love and forgiveness can handle it.  Grace is freeing that way, and it allows us to keep the door to the Church cracked open.

And there were people that disagreed with me on welcoming LGBT couples.  One man, in particular, also read Yancey’s book.  While he was grateful for the steps that it made, he suggested to me that it didn’t go far enough.  (This was a discussion at the Parthenon, for any of you checking your facts.)

Developing Fruit

Skip ahead a few years.  My wife, new daughter, and I found ourselves on Long Island, and unintentionally found ourselves attending a “welcoming” congregation.  Perhaps it was because we had felt welcomed there, as well.  In any case, they had a “contemporary” service – you know, one of those where you sing “off the wall”.  Well, I particularly enjoy that style of worship and got involved with worship leading.  And I realized soon thereafter that one of the other worship leaders was a gay man.

Well, at that point, I learned to live with ambiguity.  On one hand, I still understood scripture to say marriage was reserved for heterosexual couples, so that made me uncomfortable.  On the other hand, I recognized the fruit of the Spirit in his life.  Not that I previously would have denied the possibility of a gay man being a faithful Christian.  It’s just that you begin to see things differently when you encounter people rather than ideas.  Often in my life, I’ve had enough sense (dumb luck, grace, …) to keep my mouth shut.  Thankfully, this was one of those times.

Harvest

Let’s move toward the present.  By the time that we left Long Island about five years ago, there was really only one scripture that still bothered me: Romans 1.  Here was my thinking on the others.  I understand the Old Testament passages (including the oft-quoted ones in this debate) to be a covenant with Israel.  As a Gentile, those passages provide context, but they don’t necessarily dictate how I should live.  Most of the New Testament passages are ambiguous.  But the passage from Romans is more difficult.

However, I’d now heard views from scholars on both sides of the debate, including disagreement between Anabaptists.  In addition, I recognized that Mennonites in general were no longer in agreement.  This is an important point for someone who places value in discerning the meaning of scripture in community.  I had arrived at the place where I said essentially, “I don’t understand scripture on this point (as disconcerting as that might be), and grace dictates that I need to take the side of actively welcoming LGBT brothers and sisters.”

In the past few years, there has been one other scripture that has astounded me.  It is the story in Acts of how Peter goes to meet with Cornelius and the other Gentiles who send for him.  Peter addresses the group, saying

You yourselves know that it is unlawful for a Jew to associate with or to visit a Gentile. (Acts 10.28, NRSV)

Later, in his report to the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem, he says

If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God? (11.17)

Now, go back and look at that first verse from Acts 10.  Most Christians that I know are Gentiles.  I have only met one person in my life that was a Jewish Christian.  Those of us who are Gentiles – every one of us – are in the Church today because someone was willing to look past what was presumed to be unlawful and recognize the work of the Holy Spirit.  The more I reflect on that, the more flabbergasted (nice word, huh?) I become.  To me, it seems to be a nearly exact parallel of what my congregation is trying to discern now.

Pruning

There is one more part to this story – the question of what to do with Romans 1.  Until very recently, it bugged me.  I had learned to live with it, but it still bugged me.  I wanted a consistent reading of scripture that somehow encompassed the inclusion that I understood to be necessary, while not discarding the passages that were “hard to understand”.  And then a friend pointed me to an essay by Walter Wink.

Now before you read the essay, I’ll let you know that it may be one of the more radical pieces of Bible study that I’ve come across.  But it is thorough (which I needed, as a “conservative”), and it may be correct.  It certainly doesn’t shy away from anything.  He comes to the conclusion that the Bible may not actually have a sexual ethic; only an ethic of love as manifest in Jesus.  I’m not going to try to review the article.  You’ll have to read it for yourself.  It may be dangerous.  Or it may be incredibly freeing, because I think it has much broader implications (e.g. how does the Church deal with divorce and re-marriage?).

Final Thoughts

I think that just about wraps this story up, at least all that there is to tell at this point.  I recognize, that as with racism (and other ‘ism’s, too), I have certain advantages from being in the majority – advantages that I don’t always recognize and may sometimes abuse.  I may say or do something that would be offensive to those in the LGBT community.  Happily, I now have friends that love me enough to correct me.  Hopefully, they’ll find me humble enough to receive it.  And I trust them to be gracious enough to forgive.  It’s a freeing place to be.