Perhaps
you are wondering what happened.
After
Rick climbed the stairs, he apologized as he never
really had before, for he meant it in a deep way
that he’d never really felt before. No part of him
apologized in order to extract some confession or
acknowledgement from Carol. Whether she needed to
apologize to him for anything was so far from his
mind and heart that the thought never occurred to
him. All he felt was sorrow and desire: sorrow for
loving her less than she deserved to be loved, for
bringing her pain, for scarring her soul; and desire
to fill in whatever scars he had caused, no matter
how long it took.
Her
response to his apology wasn’t important. For once
in his life, he wasn’t saying something to her in
order to elicit a particular response. He was simply loving her. He climbed the stairs with no strings
attached.
It
wouldn’t surprise you, would it, if Carol heard
Rick’s words skeptically? It wouldn’t have surprised
Rick either, given all the sour history they had
shared. He fully expected Carol to reject whatever
he said to her as just so many words. The prospect
didn’t bother him, for he knew that this time they
weren’t just words. How could he expect anything
but skepticism after all the bitter words and looks
he had hurled her direction?
How
utterly surprised and humbled he was when she said,
“You really mean it, don’t you?”
“Yes,
Carol, I do. I’m so sorry.”
To
which Carol then said, “Oh, Rick, I’m the one who
needs to apologize.”
It
didn’t have to be that way, of course. She could
just as easily have said, bitterly, “Why should
I believe you this time when you’ve never really
meant it in the past?” Rick would have understood
that, and in that moment, he wouldn’t have loved
her any less for it.
Of
course, somehow, some way – for our own sakes –
we, as Carol, need to accept the apologies of our
Ricks. When we finally do, we will realize, as Carol
did, that failure to receive an apology is something
that needs repenting of as fully as failing to give
one. It is the Savior, after all, who is apologizing.
Rick was just giving voice to the feelings and words
that the Lord formulated for him in Gethsemane.
How
did Rick do after that initial apology? And how
did Carol do in response to him? It is tempting
to think that these are the important questions,
as if the rest of the story will tell us the remainder
of what we need to know. But did we need to know
Jonah’s answer to the Lord’s question?
What
more do I need than knowledge of the atonement?
What more do I need than to come to Him? What more
do I need than a broken heart? What more do I need
than his Spirit – the Comforter – which will teach
me “all things what I should do”?
The
question for me is not what Rick said or did after
he climbed the stairs and over the ensuing days
and weeks. It is rather what I need to say or do
after climbing the stairs in my own life. And then
what I need to keep saying and keep doing.
“Should
not I spare Rick?” “Should not I spare Carol?”
This
is what the Lord asks of us.
Since
we are Rick and we are Carol, the Lord prays, for
our sakes, that we will answer mercifully.