RESENTMENT. . .

Recently my friend George reminded me of the self-violence called resentment. Resentment is a popular form of self-violence. For some, it is a favorite form of self-violence. Resentment and I are old friends. He is always waiting patiently just off the center stage of my life. If I turn my head just a bit to the right I can see him standing there, full of patience and energy waiting for his cue to move to center stage and take over the play that is my life. He is not grinning; actually he looks a bit stoic. I have always found it ironic as to how much patience resentment demonstrates – I guess his patience comes with knowing that I will indeed be calling him to join me on center stage. He doesn’t seem to care ‘when’ I will call him – he is just secure in the knowledge that I will do so.

Webster is helpful when it comes to defining resentment. Resentment = a feeling of indignant displeasure or persistent ill will at something regarded as a wrong, insult, or injury. I have nurtured, grown and sustained resentment in response to a judgment about another that has ‘wronged me.’ More often I have nurtured, grown and sustained resentment in response to a judgment I have made about myself. When I am awake and aware I can feel the weight of resentment crushing my spirit, my heart, and my soul. When I am honest with myself I admit that being resent-full feels really good! On the other hand, living with resentment is like taking poison and expecting the other guy to get sick. I have never known anyone but myself to become dis-eased because of my resentment.

There is an antidote: Forgiveness. For me, it is not the ‘other’ that I have to forgive – the ‘other’ probably has no sense of my being resent-full (here I am speaking of the resentment I have carried for decades). Even for folks more recently in my life who have ‘wronged me, or who have ‘insulted me’ or who have ‘injured me’ my being resent-full does not seem to harm them. As Robert K. Greenleaf reminded us, over and over again, it ‘begins in here – not out there.’

Am I willing to forgive myself for nurturing, growing and sustaining resentment? Now, as I turn my head and look at resentment standing just off center stage I can see him smiling – not a smirk, but the smile that comes with someone who knows the answer (thus far in my life anyway). Resentment is sure of himself and he is sure of me. I can hear his words: ‘I am too important in your life; you have integrated me into your very being. You are not going to cast me aside.’ Forgiveness is not easy and self-forgiveness is perhaps the most difficult thing to embrace.

A therapist once asked me: ‘Do you believe that God forgives you?’ I responded with a hearty ‘YES!’ The therapist paused, then continued: ‘So, you believe you are greater than God!’ ‘God forgives you AND you refuse to forgive yourself!’ Self-forgiveness can be, at minimum, a challenge for some (I am one of the ‘for some’). For me, regarding resentment, it means that in forgiving myself I will have to no longer call resentment to move from off-stage to center-stage. I will have to let go of the pleasure of being resent-full. For me, I will also have to let go of other feelings like self-pity and self-disparagement.

Henri Nouwen offers me some guidance when he writes: Did I offer peace today? Did I bring a smile to someone’s face? Did I say words of healing? Did I let go of my anger and resentment? Did I forgive? Did I love? These are the real questions. I must trust that the little bit of love that I sow now will bear many fruits, here in this world and the life to come.