Remember the Time...

Remember the blog I wrote last week? Well, while many of you brought up some good points about olives, one of my good friends and fellow blog writers (www.olivemepost.com) asked a very interesting question, "Do you have any advice on how to forgive? What about when we are the black olive?"

You have probably heard the expression, "Forgive and Forget." It sounds good, right? It has a nice alliteration and seems simple enough. The problem with forgetting is that, aside from a major head trauma, we can't. We cannot forget. We may be distracted from the memory for a while, but we always carry it with us. So rather than forget, we often turn to repression or denial, which only takes us down an even worse path. So forget "forgetting" and lets focus on a different concept... remembering.

Throughout the scriptures, God consistently commanded his people to remember. He told the Israelites to remember their story and where they came from so that they would not become like the oppressors that oppressed them. 

Even Jesus tells his followers to eat their bread and drink their wine in remembrance of him so that daily we would remember the forgiving, loving, and redeeming nature of our God. It is in remembering that our story becomes larger, our lives transform and we stop repeating the same old mistakes.

Similarly, when we are hurt or offended, we must remember.

- We must remember who hurt us and why it hurt.

- We must remember the ways we have hurt others in the past.

- We must remember the times we have been forgiven.

- We must remember our whole story. (The good; the bad. The blessings; the hurts.)

- We must remember that everyone has a story, including the one who hurt us. (This doesn't let them off the hook, but it reminds us of their humanity.)

- We must remember who we were before the incident happened.

- We must remember who we have become as a result of this incident.

- We must remember that our bitterness has not once gained justice or a complete sense of satisfaction.

- Finally, for those of us who are Christians, we must remember how Jesus, as he hung on the cross, responded to the angry crowds by saying, "Father forgive them... they don't know what the are doing."

"... they don't know what they are doing." It is my guess that they and we never do... at least not fully. When I hurt someone with my words or betray another with my decisions, I am incapable of knowing how deep the knife cuts. Nor do I understand fully why I am saying or doing these things in the first place. So Jesus, in his kindness and understanding, forgives. Remembering helps us unlock our potential for kindness and understanding.

Remember, this is no quick fix. In fact, it probably makes things more complicated. But I believe "remembering" is the path to true forgiveness, where we may be capable of wishing our offenders well and at last be rid of the vile olives of bitterness. 

Olive Us Need Help!

I start off this article knowing certain things to be true. First, when writing a blog, I have the ability to declare some fairly bombastic ideas and invite you to think similarly, but, at the end of the day, these ideas are just my opinion. You have full permission to dismiss or argue against any and all that I have written or will write in the future. Second, sometimes in these overly confident digital mutterings, I may write something that you disagree with so strongly that you find yourself offended, hurt or even angry. Please trust me when I say, "I mean no harm." I am simply hoping to introduce you to new thoughts and even expand your mind.

That being said... black olives are the most disgusting food on the planet and we should be appalled by the way they can totally hijack a meal and cover over any other flavors that may be struggling to be noticed. (Take that, olive lovers!)

Look! Like little bugs invading your amazing pizza.

Have you ever had a slice of pizza with olives on it? You would know. You would know because you would remember what it is like to see pepperonis, cheese, sausage, bell peppers, and other delicious ingredients on the slice of which you are about to devour only to find your mouth riddled with the flavor of olives.

What happened?! Like a playground bully, the olive went around to every other aspect of the pizza and scared the ingredients into the fetal position. The pepperoni paralyzed with fear. The sausage quietly staring at its shoes. The peppers beat up and shaking in the corner. These olives have claimed their territory and the craziest part is that you cannot just get rid of the olives. The removal may help a little, but the olive juices somehow work their way into every nook and cranny of the slice. The pizza requires a complete renewal.

Stop it, Olives!

So here is my point: Olives are flavor bullies that taint and obscure what could be the makings of something incredible.

On a related note, have you ever met a person who is unwilling to forgive? The person who cannot and will not let go of his or her anger and bitterness? Have you noticed how this tends to have an impact on every other aspect of their life?

Jesus had this crazy idea about forgiveness. He said we ought to forgive, forgive again, and then forgive some more (Matthew 18: 21-35). He said if we are unwilling to forgive, then we will be incapable of understanding and experiencing the forgiveness of God (Matthew 6: 14-15).

Hmmm... (prepare for bombastic claim) I think Jesus hated olives too.

"I love many things, but olives... ehhhh... not so much."
2 Hesitations 2:1

Brilliant!

I thought about a library the other day. I imagined the stacks and stacks of books. I saw the dust that accompanies the thickly bound multi-volumes, which are rarely, if ever, taken off the shelf. I envisioned the rows upon rows of pages and pages of paper all containing words that tell stories, prove points and convey facts and theories. I pictured the lab rooms filled with computers now connected to libraries as far as Moscow so that we have the power to read beyond the prior limitations of time and space. I ruminated on the overwhelming amount of knowledge and thought tangibly located within the bounds of these walls and couldn't help but think, (and I think you know where I'm going with this) "No wonder people come here to party. Brilliant!"

... okay. Maybe you weren't thinking that. And if you were, I'd be surprised. The library is a place where we speak in whispers and pretend we're hard at work while checking facebook. Loud outbursts and other ruckus behaviors are often looked down upon because... well... it's a library. You go here to concentrate and think brilliantly, not launch into fits of joy.

I, however, wonder if we have lost touch with what it means to 'think brilliantly' and how we ought to respond to truly 'brilliant thought.' The original meaning of the word "brilliant" was ascribed to elements or objects that shine with such ferocious complexity that the only proper response is to stare. A brilliant star is the one that outshines the others and invites you to say, "All you other stars suck!" When something is brilliant, we notice it.

Another interesting attribute of the truly brilliant is that it comes with a little buddy named "Joy". When I say, "Joy," please don't jump to the idea of "happy." Being happy is great, but I'm thinking of something deeper. A good friend of mine once said, "Within 'JOY' are four key characteristics: gratitude, humility, awe, and mirth (humor). " Going back to the star imagery, when I see a brilliant, starry sky, I am quickly filled with an awareness of how thankful I am to see this, how small I truly am, how amazing and mysterious this world is, and how comical it is that this stuff happens even when nobody sees it.

In the face of the truly brilliant, joy should be quick to follow.

So let's go back to the library. Here I have the potential to find page after page of brilliant thoughts, yet I and those around me speak with whispers and try to keep to ourselves. Worse yet, we don't even go in or enter the conversation because we are more distracted by the brilliant, high-resolution screens on our touch-screen phones than we are with brilliant thought.

Now that I have you thoroughly confused with my ramblings and tangents, I'm going to share with you my intentions in writing this blog. I'm not an advocate for the local library. This is a call to think brilliantly and joyfully.

Read books and enter conversations with a childlike wonder that allows you to smile when it finally "clicks." Don't be further indoctrinated by the cram and regurgitate model of education and don't be hindered by the fear of looking stupid. Long for those moments when reading feels like a direct conversation with the author and after she has made her point, your natural response, laughing and with a smile on your face, is, "You son of a bitch..." Ask questions, listen to those who disagree with you, and always be looking for those flashes of brilliance that make you stop in your tracks, stare without shame, and whisper with wide eyes, "Wow..."

What if our libraries buzzed with the explosive nature of a charismatic worship service with random shouts of "Yes!" and "Holy Shit!" resounding through the stacks and stacks of books and pages?

Now is the time to be brilliant. Now is the time to be joyful. The world needs it and so do we.