3 REs

Recently, I heard that there was word spreading in church that I was not repentant at all. Since nobody had bothered to keep in contact with me at all, it was most likely a few cowards who chose to read my blog and judge me from a distance. While deeply disappointing, it nonetheless has been a very consistent behaviour from this church community that probably didn’t want to taint themselves with the sins that I bear on my unworthy person.

So to those of you who chose to cast the first stones at me, I have only this to say. I am regretful, remorseful, but I am nowhere near repentant. 

Regretful

I deeply regret the things that I did. Misery has a way of loving company, and I regret that my actions have subjected so many people I cared for, to such an extreme form of pain and betrayal. I hurt those whom, even if they may not have made time to know me, had nonetheless trusted me. I let down everyone in church with my behaviour, regardless of any reason that drove me to such actions.

I caused irrevocable damage to relationships not just in my own life, but that of my wife and possibly my family as well, and it is something I can never make up to them for what they have and will be going through. To those whom I have victimised and hurt, I have no intention to ever face them again. I despise myself for having ever gone down this path, and would not wish to inflict my presence on them. Once upon a time, I felt I had something to offer those around me. I felt I had some goodness in me that I could share. Now, I only feel contempt towards myself, and it feels only right that I lose the whole community I once thought I would spend my life serving. 

Remorse

If I could live that whole period of my life over, I would surely try a lot harder to stop myself from ever going down that path. Better that I had just cut myself off from everyone, rather than do so only after having hurt everyone. Hollow as these words are, it is nevertheless what I have been telling myself every day. 

I don’t blame anyone for not understanding. I also did not understand myself, and why I allowed my madness to drive me in the direction that it did. Much better if I had just jumped off a building and ended my own existence.Perhaps if I had done so, some might have felt mere sorrow at my demise, instead of the intense pain I now put them through. 

Repentance

The only way to be repentant is to be repentant towards God. And that’s something I have not changed my position on. My questions about my own relationship with God remains unanswered even today. He has remained silent towards me, and his church has been silent as well (apart from the time they spent judging and discussing how great a sinner I am, and how unrepentant I remain).

So yes, ironically, they are right in saying I am unrepentant. I see no reason in my life, in this season, to return to God. Before, my cries for help to turn away from my desperation were unanswered. After things came to light, my cries to him for answers were also met with silence. Like Ivanhoe, I have taken the name El Desdichado for myself.

I am a man with a lot of pride. I took a lot of pride in the servanthood I displayed in church, the concern and selflessness I always showed in helping out those around me. I took on responsibilities and chose to step up when there was a need, and I never begrudged God for my labors in church. And even though I know my actions have been heinously despicable, there are days when I wonder if anyone in church had bothered to weigh up my two extremes of behaviour and tried resolve the difference. They can either chalk up all my positive actions as hypocrisy, or they will have to ask themselves how could I have done what I did. If they had questions, it would have been natural to want to find out, especially if they cared. By the act of shunning me, it was very clear that everyone had decided I was a hypocritical asshole who preyed on those around me for my own sick delights.

Yet when I find myself disappointed with such a response from those whom I had served, I am accused of being unrepentant. So my question back at God is this: If your vaunted body of Christ rejects me so absolutely, how am I supposed to return to you? What am I returning to? Is it possible to return to you detached from the context of the church?

I used to love the story of the prodigal son. I was told that the emphasis was actually on the elder brother, who had failed to understand the Father’s heart. Yet lately, I find myself wondering how the son would have felt after returning back to the Father’s house. Would he be faced with a house full of servants who similarly welcomed him back like the Father had, or would they all be like the elder brother, forever having decided that the prodigal son was not worthy of the Father’s acceptance, and have all decided to reject him.

Perhaps after returning home, the prodigal son would have realised he still does not belong...