-- Paul Tillich
Reading: by Marian Wright Edelman from The Measure of Our Success, a chapter entitled “A Letter to My Sons” (p. 27)
I seek your forgiveness for all the times I talked when I should have listened; got angry when I should have been patient; acted when I should have waited; feared when I should have been delighted; scolded when I should have encouraged; criticized when I should have complimented; said no when I should have said yes and said yes when I should have said no. I did not know a whole lot about parenting or how to ask for help. I often tried too hard and wanted and demanded so much, and mistakenly tried to mold you into my image of what I wanted you to be rather than discovering and nourishing you as you emerged and grew.
Reading: by Christina Baldwin from Life’s Companion (p. 195)
Forgiveness is the act of admitting we are like other people. We are prone to make mistakes that cause confusion, inflict pain, and miscommunicate our intentions. We are recipients of these human errors and the perpetrators. There is no way we can avoid hurting others or being hurt by others, because this is exactly the nature of our imperfection. The only choice we have is to reconcile ourselves to our own flaws and the flaws of other people, or withdraw both from our humanness and our connection to the sacred… To fully live, we must choose to enter freely the cycle of interaction in which we will hurt and be hurt, forgive and be forgiven, and move on with love intact…
Reading: a poem by Dick Lourie, “How Do We Forgive Our Fathers?”
How do we forgive our Fathers?
Maybe in a dream
Do we forgive our Fathers for leaving us too often or forever
when we were little?
Maybe for scaring us with unexpected rage
or making us nervous
because there never seemed to be any rage there at all.
Do we forgive our Fathers for marrying or not marrying our Mothers?
For Divorcing or not divorcing our Mothers?
And shall we forgive them for their excesses of warmth or coldness?
Shall we forgive them for pushing or leaning
for shutting doors
for speaking through walls
or never speaking
or never being silent?
Do we forgive our Fathers in our age or in theirs
or their deaths
saying it to them or not saying it?
If we forgive our Fathers what is left?
The Possibility of Forgiveness
A Sermon Delivered on March 17, 2013
By
The Reverend Axel H. Gehrmann
If forgiveness involves acknowledging errors and saying, “I’m sorry,” then I have had ample opportunity in recent weeks to practice forgiveness, at the Philips Recreational Center. That’s where, for the past four Monday evenings I have been attending ballroom dancing lessons with my wife, Elaine. Tango lessons, to be more specific. And despite my best efforts, the results have not always been pretty.
You see, ballroom dancing is unexplored territory for us. We both have always enjoyed dancing, but our preferred style has been free form. Formal dance is much more difficult for us, beginning with its most basic rules.
So, for instance, in temperament I have always been more laid back, and Elaine has always been more assertive. Some say this has to do with our respective sibling positions in our families of origin. I am a youngest of four, and comfortable letting others take the lead. Elaine is an oldest of two, and often happy to take the initiative. In this way, we are a good match.
But when it comes to dancing tango, our instructors explained in no uncertain terms, the man must lead, and the woman must follow.
This is a real stretch for us. And so, in the course of awkwardly to trying to follow our instructors’ guidance, and straining to hear the music’s beat, I have found myself stepping on Elaine’s feet a fair amount, bumping her, and sometimes almost knocking her over. And every time I wince, and whisper, “sorry!”
* * *
I have been thinking about the Roman Catholic approach to forgiveness this week, because Catholicism has been in the news. Catholic cardinals met in Rome to elect a new leader. The title “pope” is from the Greek word “pappas” which means “father.” And like the father in most families, among the world’s billion Catholics, the pope is in a unique position to offer and receive forgiveness.
In Catholicism priests have the power to offer God’s forgiveness to deserving believers. The sacrament of penance allows the faithful to confess their sins. And the priest, in God’s Name, has the authority to offer absolution. In this way, sins are forgiven, which otherwise, if left unattended, would have led the believer to be condemned to Hell.
* * *
I remember when I was a child, I thought my Catholic classmates’ occasional visit to the confessional was a pretty neat thing. I imagined all the mischief my friends could get into in the course of a week - the lies they could tell their parents, the pranks they could play on their teachers – and how after their “confession” they could carry on with a perfectly clear conscience. Like a slate wiped clean of any guilt, shame, or worry.
Forgiveness is a central theme in Christian teachings. In the Lord’s prayer we ask God’s forgiveness, and we ourselves are encouraged to forgive others. How often should we forgive someone who has sinned against us, Jesus is asked, as many as seven times? No, Jesus says, not seven times, but seventy times seven times. We should always forgive.
* * *
But in real life forgiveness isn’t so simple. Not even for a pope.
Before he was named Pope Francis, Jorge Mario Bergoglio was a cardinal in his native Argentina. He was head of the Jesuit order in the 1970s and 80s, when the country was run by a military dictatorship. During those years the government kidnapped and killed thousands of people it considered part of the political opposition. Thousands of men and women simply “disappeared.” Some say Bergoglio failed to effectively confront the military junta, he failed to hold them accountable for their crimes, and thus was complicit. Some say he was a collaborator who failed to protect priests, who were kidnapped and tortured.
One of those priests, who was imprisoned in Argentina, says he is not bitter or angry today. Years ago he spoke about his experience with Bergoglio. They celebrated mass together and hugged. He considers the matter to be “closed.”
Some point out that Bergoglio was never charged with a crime, and in fact helped protect many from the military. But others are not willing to simply forgive and forget. And they question whether the man now known as Pope Francis should be the supreme authority in offering God’s forgiveness.
* * *
Reflecting on his own religious upbringing, the rabbi Harold Kushner writes, “When I was child, I was taught that on Yom Kippur we had to atone for things we had done to hurt other people before we could atone for our offenses against God, and that God would forgive us only when we had forgiven those who had hurt and disappointed us.” (How Good Do We Have to Be? p. 66)
* * *
In Catholic thought, the sacrament of forgiveness involves a three-step process. First is contrition, a heartfelt sense of sorrow for the wrongs one has done. Second is confession, a truthful admission of one’s sins. Third is satisfaction, or penance, which involves doing something to make amends.
Did Cardinal Bergoglio practice this sacrament honestly and sincerely? I don’t know. I imagine only he does.
* * *
Dick Lourie is acutely aware of his father’s inadequacies. He wonders how to forgive his father, and if forgiveness is even possible. Christina Baldwin would say, Lourie is not alone. For most people the primary persons we need to learn to forgive are our parents. Parents play a pivotal role in our personal and spiritual development. They teach us the basics of what it means to be human, and what we can reasonably expect from life.
Baldwin writes, “The more limited our parents were in their abilities to model trustworthy human [relationships…], the more sorting it takes to create a loving worldview ourselves.”
She continues:
“However,… we cannot forgive our parents by discounting what occurred. Forgiveness is not a matter of now declaring, “Oh, the drinking wasn’t that bad,” or “I guess all kids get knocked around like that.” Forgiveness means acknowledging exactly what happened, having the feelings we need to have about the real past experience, and in this light of comprehension deciding to let go, to let it be over. We need to stop seeing ourselves as either victims or persecutors, and see ourselves instead as family, living in confusion, doing the best we can at any given moment.” (p. 205)
Christina Baldwin makes the case that forgiveness is an essential aspect of living well, because forgiveness is so closely tied to the inescapable reality of our own imperfection. It is a fact of life, that we sometimes hurt others, and sometimes are hurt. Even when we have the very best intentions in mind, we sometimes mess up. And sometimes we are messed up.
Growing up means coming to terms with realities that are sometimes painful, sometimes perplexing. The psychotherapist and author Thomas Moore writes, our task as adults is “to search for whatever it takes to forgive our parents for being imperfect. In some families, that imperfection will be slight, in others severe, but in any case we have to deal with evil and suffering in our own lives without the benefit of a scapegoat.”
Often our greatest mistake in life is to expect perfection – from our elders, from our friends and lovers, and from ourselves. It is the expectation of perfection that makes the practice of forgiveness especially difficult. Our perfectionism is unforgiving.
Rabbi Kushner writes, “When we liberate ourselves from the myth that God will love us only if we are perfect, then we will no longer feel that we need to be parents of perfect children…, or children of perfect parents.” He says, “I don’t find it necessary to forgive my parents for the mistakes they made. It is no sin to be human. They were amateurs in a demanding game where even experts can’t always get it right. Beyond forgiveness, I love and admire them for all the good things they did…” (p. 95)
* * *
Forgiveness is a three-step process. First, forgiveness involves an emotional dimension: allowing oneself to feel the hurt that was suffered when a mistake was made. Cruel words were spoken. Thoughtless acts committed. Loving-kindness withheld. Regardless whether you may have found yourself in the role of persecutor or victim, you need to honestly and sincerely open your heart to the pain suffered.
Second, forgiveness involves an intellectual dimension: it involves understanding clearly and expressing truthfully what happened. There are many sides to every story. There are many facts to consider. In this way, to forgive is not to forget. Forgiveness asks that we remember what happened. It asks us to cherish our history, and honor those who have suffered, whoever they may be.
And third, forgiveness involves a practical dimension: reaching out to those who are hurting and somehow trying to make amends.
Sometimes the people we most need to forgive, or from whom we need forgiveness, are no longer with us. Friends and family members may have moved away. Our elders may have passed away. Still we can practice forgiveness.
Christina Baldwin leads a reconciliation exercise, through which we can call people to mind, with whom we are somehow estranged, whether or not they are currently in our lives. She invites us to engage in a guided meditation: “Imagine yourself sitting in a chair in the middle of an empty stage. Call up, on your right side, everyone you think you may need to forgive. Invite them to approach you, one at a time, talk about (and write down) where you are in the process of forgiveness. If you are able to forgive them, they can move over to your left side. Notice who is on you right and on your left. Look at the agenda you have made for yourself: you forgiveness work.” (p. 203)
In some of these conversations you may also need to ask for forgiveness. And in some you may need to forgive yourself.
* * *
Forgiveness is not about wiping the slate clean. It is about creating health and wholeness where there had been hurt and estrangement. It is a matter of creating connection where there had been isolation. It is about opening doors where long ago hurts had allowed doors to close, then be locked, then be hidden behind a board of sheetrock and a layer of paint, and forgotten.
Forgiveness is just the opposite of sweeping something under the rug, and letting bygones be bygones.
Forgiveness is about holding on to the most powerful experiences of our lives – even if those experiences are painful. It means grabbing the bull by the horns. It means wrestling with our hurts, and studying them, and transforming them into sources of strength, fonts of wisdom and compassion, indisputable evidence of our resilience and our longing to love.
We need to cherish our memories, not in order to bear a grudge, but rather in order to transform them into something life-giving.
Every experience of our lives can be a doorway to enlightenment. A doorway to salvation. A doorway to bliss. Even the most painful moments – perhaps especially the most painful – have that power to open our eyes, to break open our hearts, to make us more fully alive – more fully aware, more filled with awe and wonder, more prone to respond with gratitude and joy.
* * *
Like learning to dance the tango, life is an imperfect enterprise. Life will invariably involve a certain number of missteps, treading on toes, bumping into others, and thoroughly losing track of the tune according to which you are trying to move. That’s OK.
It’s OK to feel bad about our mistakes, and to say we are sorry, and then continue on together, trying to do better.
May we have the courage to acknowledge our imperfections.
May we dare to do so sincerely and truthfully,
So that we can then join together more joyfully
Each of us humbly doing our part to build a better world.
Amen.
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