Zones of Omission

We've all seen them -- those cartoons where the hero is trying to decide on a course of action, and there's a devil on one shoulder urging him to do the selfish thing, and an angel on the other shoulder urging him to do the right thing. And I think, if we're honest, we've all had those moments, too; those moments of temptation, when there's a possibility of doing something we know would be wrong, but it would just be so cool, or so much fun, or so rewarding, or just... so tempting.

And we tend to think of that image as just that -- it's about the conflicting values that come into play around temptation, and temptation is usually about something that could be fun in the short term, but not really pay off in the long term. It's all kind of a game, playful. But there's another kind of situation (and you have to remember that I signed up for the Prophecy course during Lent) that often has the same tension between right and wrong -- only the wrong has nothing to do with fun and games. In some situations, wrong has more to do with silence, with not speaking up, with ignoring, or walking away, or just closing your eyes.

Again, it is John O'Donohue who has something to say about such situations:

"Perhaps there was a time when something unworthy was beginning, and a simple action from us would have prevented the damage, but we did nothing. At another time perhaps we were part of something that was developing negatively, perhaps in a relationship or at work, and we never had the courage to say how we felt; we simply went along with it. In this way we damaged our integrity and our dignity. It is chastening to look back and see how frequently our silence allowed damage to occur and perhaps shored up something that was cruel, negative. It is easy to feel regretful that we did not stand up clearly and courageously then. But we know that at that time it was hard, maybe impossible, to speak out, and we live with a sense of something unresolved."

O'Donohue goes on to say that moments like these tend to build up over the years; that they continue "to dwell in that still hungry and unformed part of the heart that could not realize itself and grow free; these gaps in our integrity stay open and hungry." He calls these unformed spaces of the heart "zones of omission," and his Lenten gift to us is not just to call them to our attention, but to promise that they can be reframed by blessing.

And so, if you are haunted by your failure to speak up, to listen to the angel on your shoulder who prompted you to make a difference, I offer these words from his blessing entitled "For failure":

Despite the initial darkening,
This is the light that failure casts.
Beholden no more to the promise
Of what dream and work would bring.
It shows where roots have withered
And where the source has gone dry.
The light of failure has no mercy
on the affections of the heart;
It emerges from beyond the personal
A wiry, forthright light that likes to see crevices
Open in the shell of a controlled life.

Though cruel now, it serves a deeper kindness,
Wise to the larger call of growth.
It invites us to humility
And the painstaking work of acceptance

So that one day we may look back
In recognition and appreciation
At the disappointment we now endure.

You are not alone, nor am I. We have all fallen short of the mark at one time or another. And the blessing in that lies, I think, in the recognition: in facing into our failures we must accept that we are not perfect. If we are willing to stay with that thought and examine more closely our own contribution to the problem, we have the opportunity to see where we went wrong, and to determine a course of action that might help us make a better choice next time. Lent is not about self-condemnation: it is about humility, and the painstaking work of self-acceptance.

NOTE: All John O'Donohue quotations are from his wonderful book of blessings, To Bless the Space Between Us (© John O’Donohue. All rights reserved). To learn more about John O'Donohue, be sure to visit his website: www.johnodonohue.com