You Can’t Forgive Unless You Blame
Forgiveness is treated as a virtue, and virtue is obedience born out of fear. Virtues elevate beliefs through behavior, and they live inside the construct of morals. So let us examine forgiveness closely, structurally, before we congratulate ourselves for practicing it.
Before forgiveness can appear, something else is already in place: a judgment. The judgment usually reads like this. That person, or that thing, is responsible for causing me harm. The claim that something outside of you is responsible for your harm is the practical application of blame. Follow the chain. Without blame there is no offender. Without an offender there is no offense. Without an offense there is no crime to forgive, and no moral imbalance demanding correction. Forgiveness does not dissolve blame. Forgiveness depends on it. Blame is the lifeline of forgiveness.
This raises a harder question than the ones usually asked. Not how do I forgive, or can I forgive, but this: if forgiveness requires blame, what exactly are you practicing when you say you are letting go? Are you releasing the event? Or are you preserving the structure that made the person wrong in the first place? Because if that structure stands, every act of forgiveness adds a brick to it. It is self-affirming. It refines the grievance rather than freeing you from it. There is no letting go in that. There is only refinement.
So ask the question that dissolves the machinery instead of polishing it. What disappears if blame never forms? Sit with that. If no one and nothing requires forgiving, what else vanishes with it? The offender, the offense, the debt, the case you have been keeping. The entire courtroom closes, and you were paying its staff.
Here is the exercise. Take your last altercation. Name who you blamed, and why. Now walk it back through today with the blame never assigned. Not suppressed. Never formed. What does that interaction look like now? What do you look like now?
If you see a place where my premise breaks, point to the exact place where the logic fails. My interest is demonstration, not persuasion. You are the only one responsible for your life. That is why it is called your life. You are the only one who will ever answer for you, and the same goes for me.
Till next time.
Karen