BishopAccountability.org
	Forgiveness and Life after Death By Jaime Romo Healing and Spirituality November 1, 2010 http://www.jaimeromo.com/blog/archives/315 The Celts believed that the souls of those who died during the year traveled to the other world at harvest time. Animals were sacrificed, fruits and vegetables offered, and bonfires lit to help the pilgrim dead find their way on the journey. Similarly, Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) is a special celebration for many people throughout Latin America. The Dia de los Muertos tradition was once a month long celebration in Mexico until Catholic missionaries baptized it and concentrated on All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days, which have probably been lost to Halloween in all its commercial glory. This strange merging of two traditions has never completely blended, at least for many Latinos and I’m glad for that. Dia de los Muertos, not Halloween, is a fitting symbol and/ or celebration for survivors of Religious Authority Sexual Abuse (RASA) in particular. The practice for many is to create altars and remember family members with food and drink. While is has always been an indigenous practice in Mexico, I saw altars that remembered firefighters and others lost in the Twin Towers in 2001 and 2002 at a local indigenous gatherings. The ritual became a way for all to come together and mourn their lost loved ones and find hope and new life together—despite ethnic or historic differences. It is a way to recognize people’s loss of life and also to laugh at death, to reclaim a vibrant connection with people or parts of ourselves. How is this related to survivors? Well, many survivors experience such profound trauma from RASA that they experience a death of self, if not what some call ‘soul death.’ I believe it is possible, as I have experienced, for us to be revived, although in very different ways that may not include our past professional, interpersonal, social, or religious identities. It is as if we become something like these characters depicted in art for dia de los muertos—skeletons dressed up. My life now has a resemblance to my past professional and interpersonal self, and at the same time I recognize the passing of my past experiences or selves. I embrace my present state of life and take back the power of living in the present, even if it looks and feels very different from my or other people’s present or our past. The death of past personal and professional self is a very sad and difficult process to walk through. Recently, I felt particularly sad about my loss of professorial life and the solitariness or lack of support for engaging people in my current path (i.e., ending abuse and promoting healing from clergy abuse). I happened to walk past a Dia de Los Muertos depiction of skeletons wearing bright clothes, dancing and shaking maracas, cooking and playing together. And it made sense. I have experienced life like the characters in Pirates of the Caribbean, where we might eat and drink, but have no satisfaction. But now, even when I am sad about my present life, I am more like these vibrant skeletons who are living beyond their past trauma, beyond their lifelessness, which is so common for survivors or RASA. These vibrant skeletons don’t hold onto bitterness of what once was. In a sense, they have let go of what was rotting on their bones; they have given that away for something more freeing—they have forgiven. My experience or understanding of healing is not about excusing or forgetting the criminal, heinous and evil acts of anyone who sexually abuses children, including religious authorities. It is in giving up the fantasy that the past will return. Forgiveness is a contentious conversation in the survivor community. Some hold on to the bitterness and unwillingness to forgive with the idea that if we do otherwise, we may become less vigilant in the work to end abuse. Some hold on to it as if it is something that we can use to withhold from or deprive perpetrators of their peace of mind—as if they even know or care about the pain they have inflicted. In short, forgiveness is what I give to myself for internalizing the abandonment, abuse and shame that others, including an abusing priest gave me. Forgiveness is what I ask of others who I have abandoned, been abusive to and have shamed. When I can forgive myself for judging myself and others without mercy, I can have fun sometimes. I can work through the difficulties that come with intimate relationships and find joy. I can find connections with others even though they may behave differently than me or have very different stances on forgiveness than I do. What does it mean to forgive? To me, it is letting go of the toxic rage or attention to the abuser that was eating me alive. It means to give myself back my power for my own happiness. Forgiveness brings me back from the dead.
Any original material on these pages is copyright © BishopAccountability.org 2004. Reproduce freely with attribution.