Over the years we’ve developed a simple “family rite” for reconciling our daughters when one causes some sort of injury to another. The offending party is in “time out” until she is ready to ask for forgiveness.
She then goes to her sister and tells her she's sorry. But that's only the first half of the equation. The person who receives the apology is then supposed to say, “I forgive you” and embrace her sister.
This system isn't foolproof. I've heard sensitive little Virginia cry, “I said I was sorry but Abbie wouldn't forgive me.” Usually, however, this process facilitates reconciliation. I think the girls have learned the value of repairing family relationships and are quick to seek and offer forgiveness.
Obviously the healing of relationships on a very human level “feels good,” which makes one wonder why individuals, institutions, and even nations are so slow and inept when it comes to seeking reconciliation. The fracturing and alienation of the human family is one of the most painfully evident effects of original sin. Much can be said about this from a theological, psychological, and even historical perspective, but I think it largely comes down to the fact that we don't want what we deserve. Original sin has wounded our sense of justice. Without what St. Augustine calls tranquillitas ordinis — the “tranquility of order” that is the fruit of justice — peace will continue to give way to discord and violence.
Let me give a few concrete examples of what I mean. Every Christmas season I enjoy the movie A Christmas Story. Our hero Ralphie (the kid who wanted the Red Rider BB gun for Christmas) and one of his friends dared another little boy to stick his tongue on a frozen flagpole. The teacher knew who was responsible, but couldn't prove it, so she laid a guilt trip on the entire class in the hope that the two boys would confess. The boys didn't confess, and the narrator (Ralphie as an adult) explained that by the age of 10 he and his friends had already learned that it was always better not to admit to any wrongdoing. The movie, in a humorous way, reflects the truth that most children discover early on: that they'll be better off — at least in the short run — if they resist the consequences of their bad actions at home and at school. In many cases, this will lead to lying and other behaviors that are harmful to their relationships and to their spiritual lives.
As a litigation attorney, I often had to prepare clients and witnesses to testify. The three best answers to questions were “yes,” “no,” and “I don't recall.” I would not tolerate dishonesty, but it was my job to teach the witness not to give unnecessary information that could ultimately harm our case. We tried to avoid testimony that would make the witness vulnerable. Clients who just wanted to say, “I screwed up, but I'm really sorry about it” had to be reprogrammed. Indeed, in the criminal realm, we have enshrined the right to “keep silent” about our transgressions in the Fifth Amendment. We don't have to testify against ourselves.
I'm not suggesting that we change our justice system or that we need in all circumstances to be an “open book” with respect to our weaknesses and failures. Rather, I'm simply suggesting how foreign — and frightening — the idea of candidly acknowledging our personal fault is to men and women today. When we admit to a weakness, mistake, or malicious act, we go through the “Adam and Eve experience” of allowing others to see our nakedness (cf. Gn 3:10). We expose ourselves to justice in a world that doesn't seem all that forgiving.
This trepidation certainly carries over into our encounter with God, as we grudgingly bring ourselves to consider the eternal ramifications of divine justice. We know we're sinners and, more than that, God knows we're sinners. So why are we put through the terrifying, un-American process of testifying against ourselves in the Sacrament of Confession?
Clearly, the short answer to this question is that it provides us a concrete means of experiencing divine mercy, of hearing Jesus tell us, through the ministry of the priest, “I forgive you. Go in peace.” Our sins are not held against us! We approach the sacrament confidently, knowing that the Lord is true to His promises, and that the vulnerability that comes from admitting our sins will give way to divine healing and mercy. Forgiveness is not opposed to justice, but perfects it by healing the effects of injustice. Justice must include and in a sense be completed by forgiveness, which repairs human relationships at their most basic level.
I've touched upon the experience of liberation that comes with being forgiven. But developing the virtue or disposition of soul to forgive is equally liberating — it frees us from the burdens of bitterness and resentment that poison the human family. Pope John Paul II succinctly captured the mystery and value of forgiveness in his 2002 World Day of Peace address:
Forgiveness is not a proposal that can be immediately understood or easily accepted; in many ways it is a paradoxical message. Forgiveness in fact always involves an apparent short-term loss for a real long-term gain. Violence is the exact opposite; opting as it does for an apparent short-term gain, it involves a real and permanent loss. Forgiveness may seem like weakness, but it demands great spiritual strength and moral courage, both in granting it and in accepting it. It may seem in some way to diminish us, but in fact it leads us to a fuller and richer humanity, more radiant with the splendor of the Creator.
There's nothing like fostering the virtue of forgiveness that conforms our hearts to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Forgiveness also allows us to practice “spiritual jujitsu” — to turn every perceived injustice into an opportunity for grace. Every time we may be tempted to harbor ill thoughts about someone who has harmed us, let us ask our Heavenly Father to forgive him or her.
May others not fear coming to the Lord and His Church when they “taste and see” the love and mercy we offer them as ambassadors of Christ Jesus.
Leon J. Suprenant, Jr. is the president of Catholics United for the Faith (CUF) and Emmaus Road Publishing and the editor-in-chief of Lay Witness magazine, all based in Steubenville, Ohio. He is a contributor to Catholic for a Reason III: Scripture and the Mystery of the Mass and an adviser to CE’s Catholic Scripture Study. His email address is leon@cuf.org.
Join Catholics United for the Faith and enjoy the many benefits of membership/index.asp.
