This week's "On Faith" question from the Washington Post is the following:
In light of recent high-profile public apologies by Don Imus, Paul Wolfowitz, Michael Nifong, the Pope and others, what is the relationship of apology (repentance) to forgiveness?
You can view the question and panelists' responses here.
I think this is especially pertinent, in light of our intern retreat this past weekend, which involved asking for and receiving of forgiveness as a part of a reconciliation service. People may or may not find that lens a helpful one to speak to the "On Faith" question. I also think our previous discussions about sin would also be interesting to bring into this - though they may take us barreling in another direction.
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One thing that someone mentioned as we discussed this question is that "apology" actually means "defense." For example, a Christian apologist defends the Christian faith to outsiders. So, really, an apology isn't so much asking forgiveness, but asking for people to understand one's own rationalization/explanation.
When we talk about "public" apologies, I think the degree that the apology relates to forgiveness depends on the tone that the figure takes - just as in the case of interpersonal apologies (though public apologies definitely have a distinct flavor to them). If the "apology" consists of, "if I've offended anyone, I'm sorry" - that's not an apology, in the sense of asking forgiveness. If the "apology" consists of, "I did something wrong, I'm sorry. What I did hurt x person/people, and I hope that what I did can be corrected/healed, and that those people can forgive me" - that would be an apology which seeks forgiveness.
To relate this to our "reconciliation service" at the intern retreat, I think our setting was conducive to seeking and receiving forgiveness, to making way for repentance and a way of healing from the "wrong-doing". The conversation that led up to the service was one in which we each shared how each person in the group had both helped that person grow, and how they could "be more life-giving." After having a night and morning to reflect on some of this feedback, all of us had plenty to feel like we needed forgiveness for. And it definitely made way for the hope of putting things right in the near future - indeed "reconciling" one another.
One thing I did notice in the service was that there wasn't necessarily very easy language that people used in accepting the more direct apologies. For example:
Person A: "I'm sorry for x and y...."
Person B: "Thanks." (or alternately, as I tend to use in more everyday settings) "Don't worry. You're fine."
I remember when I was little, the model my mom set out for me and my sister was:
Person A: "I'm sorry for x and y..."
Person B: "I forgive you."
For some reason, we don't seem to use this language these days. This isn't to say that one "model for forgiveness" is any better than another - but I do throw out the question of whether we need more direct, verbal forgiveness. Somehow, at least for me, accepting that what someone has done has affected/hurt you so much that it warrants an apology is a little humbling. It takes humbling on both ends of a conflict to both say one is sorry, and to grant forgiveness to the other person.
And to speak to the whole sinful/broken nature of humanity - coming from a theology (of sorts) which thinks of our nature as having very good essence, but that is also in its very essence also very broken - I think it's interesting that we both have to accept that our humanity is a very good and joyful thing, but that our sinfulness is also an essential part of our humanity. Thus, in a sense, when we ask forgiveness, we're asking forgiveness for being our very selves. I think it shows the "creativity" of creation, that we can hold in tension both affirming how we are wonderfully made, flaws and all - but also attempt to transform those flaws and heal those wounds and brokennesses (that indeed can hurt others as well as ourselves), so that we can be made more and more whole. There's a need to affirm and accept our present broken state in all its splendor, but also look toward a new self, with those broken spots healed and transformed. And looking those brokennesses head-on (for Katie, becoming aware of the plank in her eye, and then measuring it, analyzing it, figuring out how it go there, the symbolic significance of it, etc.) is the only way we can begin to heal them. And of course, a part of that is calling ourselves out on those planks and bringing others into the healing process - thus the need for apologies and forgiveness.
I have so many thoughts in response to Jessica's post today. Jess, you do an awesome job of articulating the tension of forgiveness which is not easy to do. Thanks.
First of all, I really appreciate the distinction between apology and defense. Historically, it is unfortunately evident that the two are synonymous. However, to truly facilitate the beginning of forgiveness... even beginning the process of forgiving, we need to step away from the notion of that. I struggle with this directly in that I often use the phrase "I'm sorry, but...". In recent years, I have made a very conscious effort to remove that BUT from my vocabulary... if I hurt someone, I am really sorry... no buts about it. There is still room for dialogue, explanation and furthering our understanding of one another (i know you love that part, Tim), but not to the exclusion of a genuine apology. This is even harder to do in a public setting as there is limited time in the spotlight. Because the public only listens to 30 second sound bites rather than engaging in any sort of genuine relationship with those in public positions. Like so many other things that have entered our conversations in the past: our expectations of leaders are so high that they cannot be human. They have to put on a public face all the time and therefore cannot show the vulnerability necessary to apologize with no strings attached. This is a perpetual problem.
The flipside of this, however, is that a genuine apology does not always equal forgiveness. I was one of the people who responded with "thanks" when apologized to directly at the reconciliation service on our retreat. This was a very intentional response at that time. I truly did appreciate the genuine apology, but that does not equal forgiveness. I was still hurt... my walls were still up and my defenses high. So while I needed to hear the apology as part of my healing process, dialogue and deeper understanding had to follow for genuine forgiveness to be a viable option.
Speaking to Jess' last topic of the tension between brokenness and goodness being a central part of the definition of humanity, I am inspired by this idea. Being present to the whole of your humanity is, in my opinion, furthering the kingdom of God in a very real way. In the same way as I would encourage people to be present to their sadness when they are hurting, I would also encourage people to be present to their weakness. In many ways, I feel the Church as an institution falls short in helping us do this. While yes we are constantly working to be better and do the right thing, we are broken for a reason... something is breaking us. And without being present to and truly facing what that thing is, we can know very little about truly apologizing for it, forgiving ourselves for it, and then, through dialogue, deepening our understanding of ourselves because of it.
Being truly human and truly in relationship with other humans is, in its entirety, beautiful.
I have so many thoughts in response to Jessica's post today. Jess, you do an awesome job of articulating the tension of forgiveness which is not easy to do. Thanks.
First of all, I really appreciate the distinction between apology and defense. Historically, it is unfortunately evident that the two are synonymous. However, to truly facilitate the beginning of forgiveness... even beginning the process of forgiving, we need to step away from the notion of that. I struggle with this directly in that I often use the phrase "I'm sorry, but...". In recent years, I have made a very conscious effort to remove that BUT from my vocabulary... if I hurt someone, I am really sorry... no buts about it. There is still room for dialogue, explanation and furthering our understanding of one another (i know you love that part, Tim), but not to the exclusion of a genuine apology. This is even harder to do in a public setting as there is limited time in the spotlight. Because the public only listens to 30 second sound bites rather than engaging in any sort of genuine relationship with those in public positions. Like so many other things that have entered our conversations in the past: our expectations of leaders are so high that they cannot be human. They have to put on a public face all the time and therefore cannot show the vulnerability necessary to apologize with no strings attached. This is a perpetual problem.
The flipside of this, however, is that a genuine apology does not always equal forgiveness. I was one of the people who responded with "thanks" when apologized to directly at the reconciliation service on our retreat. This was a very intentional response at that time. I truly did appreciate the genuine apology, but that does not equal forgiveness. I was still hurt... my walls were still up and my defenses high. So while I needed to hear the apology as part of my healing process, dialogue and deeper understanding had to follow for genuine forgiveness to be a viable option.
Speaking to Jess' last topic of the tension between brokenness and goodness being a central part of the definition of humanity, I am inspired by this idea. Being present to the whole of your humanity is, in my opinion, furthering the kingdom of God in a very real way. In the same way as I would encourage people to be present to their sadness when they are hurting, I would also encourage people to be present to their weakness. In many ways, I feel the Church as an institution falls short in helping us do this. While yes we are constantly working to be better and do the right thing, we are broken for a reason... something is breaking us. And without being present to and truly facing what that thing is, we can know very little about truly apologizing for it, forgiving ourselves for it, and then, through dialogue, deepening our understanding of ourselves because of it.
Being truly human and truly in relationship with other humans is, in its entirety, beautiful.
Thanks for writing this.
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