(249) Recognition Hereafter
…awaiting this return of his child.
So, friends, how ever indignant we may be, however intensely and however justly we may feel our wrongs, there is no revenge possible for us in the universe of the Father. I may say to myself with heartiest vengeance, ‘I should just like to let that man see what a wretch he is–what all honest men at this moment think of him!’ but, the moment come, the man will loathe himself tenfold more than any other man could, and that moment my heart will bury his sin. Its own ocean of pity will rush from the divine depths of its God-origin to overwhelm it. Let us try to forethink, to antedate our forgiveness. Dares any man suppose that Jesus would have him hate the traitor through whom he came to the cross? Has he been pleased through all these ages with the manner in which those calling themselves by his name have treated, and are still treating his nation? We have not yet sounded the depths of forgiveness that are and will be required of such as would be his disciples!
Our friends will know us then: for their joy, will it be, or their sorrow? Will their hearts sink within them when they look on the real likeness of us? Or will they rejoice to find that we were not so much to be blamed as they thought, in this thing or that which gave them trouble?
Let us remember, however, that not evil only will be unveiled; that many a masking misconception will uncover a face radiant with the loveliness of the truth. And whatever disappointments may fall, there is consolation for every true heart in the one sufficing joy–that it stands on the border of the kingdom, about to enter into ever fuller, ever-growing possession of the inheritance of the saints in light.
From MacDonald’s unspoken sermon “The Final Unmasking ”
This entry concludes Lewis’ quotes from this particular sermon, and is in fact, the conclusion of the sermon.
One of my own struggles with this whole concept of the full disclosure and complete transparency of judgment is that I know I have held, at least in passing, many a thought of criticism, judgment, or what could only be taken (by the unknowing subject if they saw my mind completely) as outright contempt for something about themselves. And yet I bury those thoughts of mine with shame because I know how hurtful (and unproductive) they would be, in many cases against people I love. So I try (only partially successfully) to consider the problem to be mine and not theirs. I know that isn’t always true, and psychologists have long had a field day calling this out as a dangerous practice of repressing bad things that must eventually emerge anyway - probably in yet more explosive or destructive ways because of all the prior containment. Of course there is much truth in that, and things should not be allowed to fester. But … every negative thought? Really?! I don’t want people to see themselves as I sometimes see them through my own fallen eyes - I want to see them with eyes of love, and if on judgment day - every last thought of criticism I had ever entertained about another is to be brought out for everyone’s inspection, then the resulting torments would not be mine alone. It’s because of love that I don’t want to hurt them, and yet … wouldn’t I want to know the truth about how people perceive me, even as painful as that might be for me? Wouldn’t I hope that anything provoking their contempt of me might be cast out of my redeemed self? I suppose that not only will we have total transparency with each other, but we will all also have much thicker skins about our former selves and the weaknesses we harbored, many of which would rightly provoke contempt from others. From our fully sanctified perspectives, I’m guessing that we ourselves will no longer feel any insecurity and will be the first to be able to see ourselves as we were and (as MacDonald says) “loath those hurtful parts of our former selves tenfold more than any others possibly could.” But it still doesn’t sit right that, in the service of some sort of finally shared “omniscience”, all old wounds should be made fresh again.
And I do think many such things can already be forgotten, even while we still live in the flesh to work on it. Hence the urgency of leaving one’s gift at the altar to go and take care of more urgent matters - either literally with one’s brother, or even figuratively dealing with unworthy thoughts in ourselves that do need eternal burial more than they need public airing. That’s my hope, anyway - that love will cover over a multitude of sins.