I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.
I say unto you, be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine.
More and more I find myself being drawn to the idea that what the Lord calls us to when we are invited to righteousness is not some abstract standard of behaviour, but rather a total unity; a kind of social intimacy that we can never truly grasp in our current state. Our sins are what keep us from that union, again in ways we do not grasp, so much so that we scoff at the commandments intended to lead us there.
But other than our own sins, we can let other’s sins (and even things that are not sins) keep us from that union too. We can harbour bitterness and resentment, and then when the time comes that all must be brought together, our pain will demand that we stay away. Separate. Alone, to some eternally damning degree.
We will need to lay all our burdens down if we are to enter that ultimate celestial union. Even if, for now, we must keep some at arm’s length for our (or their) safety’s sake, we can still long for the day when all barriers can fall. We can keep heaven in our heart.
Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows