"Forgiveness: How & Why"
by Rev. Kimi Riegel
March 28, 2004

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.

Forgiveness is a key feature in one of the most familiar prayers of our time. It is the basic stuff of most religious traditions. Atonement and forgiveness are essential parts of the Jewish holidays. Christianity of course has Jesus who offers through his sacrifice the forgiveness of all our sins. And in the Koran man is viewed as basically able to choose not sin. If he listens to Evil and does wrong, God is merciful and willing to forgive offences, as long as the individual is sorry and wishes to improve.

I suspect that because humanity is imperfect religions have always and will always have a way to forgive one another and ourselves. We make mistakes, we fall short, we say things we don’t mean, we overreact, we hurt others. And we are subject to others falling short, making mistakes, and overreacting. It probably doesn’t take you but a minute to think of a time you hurt someone else or were hurt. We are imperfect creatures so forgiveness is necessary.

Necessary for whom though? Many who have written on the topic would say necessary for all parties in a wrong. For those who have committed the wrong and are genuinely sorry forgiveness of themselves and forgiveness from others is essential for moving on and living a full life. Even in the small wrongs we are aware of feeling freed when we say sorry. When I yell at the kids because I am tired, I feel guilty, I apologize and then they give me that understanding look that says, yeah mom we know you are worn out. I feel then that at least in some small way I have put things back in equilibrium. When I have done something wrong there is a sense of being out of balance; a feeling of being out of kilter with whom I think of my self as. The apology at least acknowledges I have fallen short. The bigger the wrongs the bigger that sense of being out of touch and disconnected with who I want to be. Asking for and receiving another’s forgiveness as least allows some semblance of personal integrity to return.

For those who have been wronged, forgiveness allows us to free ourselves from feelings of anger and hate. When my kids forgive me my trespasses they are acknowledging their own pain and offering me understanding. They are not saying that’s fine go ahead and do it again. They are saying we know you are imperfect and we won’t hold it against you. If they could not forgive, they could harbor a resentment that could damage our relationship.

When we seek forgiveness we know the great good it does. When we offer forgiveness it also serves us well. We all know the courage it takes to say, “Please forgive me”. But it also takes tremendous courage to forgive. We all know the relief we feel when we are able to ask and receive forgiveness. But there is also relief to those giving it.

We are basically biologically determined creatures. To a large extent who we are is based on our experiences and the emotions we carry. By carrying feelings of hate, anger and resentment we create ourselves as people of hate, anger and resentment.

We MUST forgive wrongdoers because of the destructive force of the feelings within us that we suffer when we withhold forgiveness. Anger, envy, spite, and rage, to name a few of these destructive emotions, become locked within us by feelings of retribution and justification. T.S. Eliot described something like this in his “Murder in the Cathedral”:

In the small circle of pain within the skull
You still shall tramp and tread one endless round
Of thought, to justify your action to yourselves,
Weaving a fiction which unravels as you weave,
Pacing forever in the hell of make-believe…

Indeed, our minds are amazingly adept at convincing us of our right to feel wronged, and thus our right to maintain destructive feelings toward the one who has wronged us. Further, there is a certain feeling of power over the wrongdoer, which, if we admit to ourselves, creates a certain height of feeling that we enjoy, but which when seen from a healthier perspective is also destructive to us. Why, if what is essential to us are the feelings and emotions that run through us, would any of us choose this? Of all the states of being we might achieve; love, peace, overall good- ill, why would we choose to preserve the destructive emotions we become when we refuse to forgive? Not to forgive is to poison ourselves; it is to bring to ruin the best that is within us. Why is it, as Kin Hubbard once said, that “Nobody ever forgets where he buried the hatchet?”

I believe the reason is pride. Pride being that sense of elation we have at being superior to those that hurt us. If we think back to the T.S. Eliot poem I read a minute ago, where he said, “In the small circle of pain within the skull you still shall tramp and tread one endless round of thought, to justify your action to yourselves,” pride is the skullcap within which our minds justify our destructive emotions. Those feelings of having the upper hand morally, as the one who is wounded keep within us, trapped and re-circulating, the hate and anger.

Perhaps this is why we spend so little time thinking about it; to truly engage the idea of forgiveness is to risk transformation of ourselves and our relationships with those whom we might forgive. Indeed, it is easiest, when we feel we have been wronged, to place that person or people in artificial boxes locked away in the back of our brains. We label them evil, wrong or just stupid. Once we have done this it takes a great deal for us to be willing even to consider opening that box and letting that person out again. We would rather throw away the key than do the hard work of trying to see the humanity of those who have wronged us. Life is easier this way.

It is true. Most of the time, we would rather feel a sense of righteous indignation than give in to our impulse to forgive. Yet the price we pay for our righteous indignation or our own convictions about our own sense of justice is very high. It only poisons our lives, despite what ever reasons our minds might conjure up to justify the tempest we feel when we believe we have been wronged.     

Forgiveness returns us to our most authentic selves; it returns the balance. It is not to forget. It is not to avoid justice or recompense. It is instead to cease to feel ill will. It is to let go of the desire for the other to suffer. It is to let go of the resentment and anger. It is to perhaps begin to understand the world and the person that created the wrong. This is essential if we are to experience life in its fullest sense, in its sense of over-abundance, blessing, and the joy of healthy human relations. This is essential if our lives are not to be determined by past events. This is essential if our lives are to have meaning for others, not only for those who have wronged us as well, but especially for those who have wronged us, for perhaps the only lesson more important than forgiving is to have been forgiven. Indeed, overcoming our own pain in full view of those who know we have been wronged may in fact be the most powerful spiritual lesson there is, the fullest expression of unconditional love. And is this not that to which communities of faith call us?

According to Aristotle, the great soul “must be a good man.... fond of conferring benefits.... He does not bear a grudge, for it is not a mark of greatness of soul to recall things against people, especially the wrongs they have done you, but rather to overlook them...”[1] How do we go about becoming a such a good person?

Most theorists who work with the idea of forgiveness identify anywhere between 3 and 20 steps in the process. We must not fall victim to just walking through the steps but truly engage in changing our lives to reach the peace of forgiveness. Most of the steps talk of understanding the event that caused the pain, really feeling the pain, perhaps talking to someone else about it, maybe doing a symbolic act to rid yourself of the emotions, be willing to find a new way to view the person or persons who wronged you and most important understand that forgiveness is a process that happens over time.

One of the big questions of forgiveness lies of course in the extermination of millions of people by the Nazis. It is doubtful that some formulaic process of forgiveness would rid the world of that anger and pain. Theologians, philosophers, ethicists and the like have considered this question for decades. Should the Germans ask for and expect forgiveness?

And today we can think of more examples of big atrocities; the world trade center, murders and abuse of children, the abuse and murder of gays, lesbians, bisexual and transgender people to name but a few. How many of these victims and their families have been able to forgive? What has it meant for those who can forgive and for those who have not? What process must exist generation after generation to hang on to the pain? And perhaps more importantly what process must exist to let it go? For all forgiveness, and especially for these larger than comprehension atrocities, I believe we must leave the forgiveness and consideration of process to those who have been wronged.

And perhaps that is where we can begin in our own lives. Where have we been wronged? Where have we wronged others? Where is the pain we carry and how long will we carry it?

Fran Newell sent me one of those wonderful Internet tearjerker readings. This one asks how do we want to be remembered when we pass from this life. It asks us to consider how we spend that part of our lives between the birth and the death. Do we want to be remembered as someone who carried a grudge for years or as some one who offered forgiveness?

So, now, in this moment think on who you might forgive. Think on from whom you might ask forgiveness. This is not an easy task. Perhaps the person is here in this room. Perhaps they are long gone. Perhaps your task is one of those larger than comprehension. Perhaps it is the small and daily forgiveness. Whatever it might be spend just a moment, a real and now moment, considering what forgiveness might mean for you. What is necessary for that forgiveness to happen? How might forgiveness transform your life? How might it transform your family? How might it transform our community?

Let us remember the incredible power in forgiveness. It is not a rational power for most often we can’t find a reason to forgive or be forgiven. What it holds is not fairness but self-respect and community. Forgiveness does not wipe away guilt, but invites peace. In our lives, for our lives, it is as important to be able to forgive as it is to be forgiven. Let us remember the incredible power of forgiveness.

Let us invite the power of forgiveness. We do not forget but release ourselves from some of the destructive hold the past has on us. Our hatred, our anger, our need to feel wronged – those will destroy us. Let us invite the power of forgiveness.

We cannot just will ourselves to enter into forgiveness, either as givers or receivers. We can want to do it and still not be able to.

Let us, however, strive to be open and receptive to the power of forgiveness, which is a power rooted in love. It is a love seeking to preserve and create community. Forgiveness transforms and heals; and even when time or space or death separates us, it reconciles us to ourselves and to Life. The power of forgiveness abides between us but also within us. Let us invite the power of love to heal our personal wounds and give us the gift of forgiveness. Forgiveness will give our world a better chance of survival. Let us strive to be open and receptive to the power of forgiveness.