Dear one,
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me …”: Although not a new observation, recently I was reminded that these words are perhaps the most difficult words spoken within our English-speaking world. This observation came to mind as I watched an eight-part mini-series, in which the male protagonist is portrayed as increasingly jealous, stubborn, self-centered, bull-headed, and hard-hearted—until he begins to see the folly and utter blindness of his vindictive behavior. Of course, we the audience see his petulant reactions, his myopic self-centeredness, and therefore long that he might see his errant attitudes; that he might remove the blinders, before he and those he purportedly loves stumble and fall irrevocably (like King Lear?).
With relief, we watch as he recognizes his errant ways; as he seeks to physically renovate their home, believing that the restoration of their physical environment will mean the restoration of their badly battered relationships; and as he, with smiles and open arms like a truant little boy, expects others to rightly interpret his renovation efforts. Moreover, as the writers of this mini-series would have it, his family—those who had been deeply wounded by his poison-tipped arrows of envy, pride, and anger—accept and return his smiles and embraces, thereby proclaiming: “All is well.” However, never once did he utter the words: “I am sorry. Please forgive me.”
From my perspective, his was the failure to truly own and admit what he had done: he was wrong and had badly wronged others, but no one held him accountable. Likewise, he never really received forgiveness: no one ever confronted him, saying: “Look! This is what you have done. These are the consequences. This is the suffering I/we have endured, the cost I/we have paid. Look and behold, and then know that I/we will forgive you.”
We who are the heirs of the Judeo-Christian tradition must clearly recognize that forgiveness is at the heart of what we believe: How else can we understand that ancient, Hebrew tradition of sacrifice, or of Christ’s suffering upon a Roman cross? If this is so, then we ought to be those who can and do regularly say: “I’m sorry. Please forgive me”, as we seek to love God, our neighbor, and ourselves. However, “I’m sorry” cannot be a throw-away line: “I’m sorry” must be the expression and embodiment of sorrow, otherwise it becomes a cheap word in search of cheap grace. If offered, true sorrow will rightly hear: “Does no one condemn you? … Then neither do I … Go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:11).
Forgiven,
Stan