Forgiveness is for Giving

Rev. Mark Skrabacz

August 15, 2010

Elwin Hope Wilson is 73 years old, lives in Rock Hill, South Carolina and suffers from severe diabetes. Last year he became something of a celebrity because, after a lifetime of racist rhetoric and activity, he had a change of heart.

As a young man, Wilson assaulted civil rights Freedom Riders. Later in life he threatened a real estate agent who had sold a nearby home to a black family, and another he time vehemently protested the desegregation of the local cemetery where his parents were interred. On yet another occasion he hung a black doll by the neck in his front yard and dared his neighbors to remove it. He regularly embarrassed his children and grandchildren by loudly repeating racial epithets in restaurants and other public places.

But then, last year, all of that changed. Having decided that his previous behavior had been horribly misguided, Wilson began the painful process of issuing apologies. He traveled to Congressman John Lewis’ Washington DC office to personally apologize for punching and knocking down the former Freedom Rider in 1961. He has visited black churches and offered public declarations of repentance. He has sought reconciliation with black citizens in his community.

Many have greeted Elwin Wilson’s apologies with surprise and pleasure, but others have been more skeptical. As one Freedom Rider allowed: “In the back of my mind I just keep thinking, ‘Why now?'” Why now, indeed. Although it’s always hazardous to render judgments about another person’s motives, one thing is clear: Elwin Hope Wilson, beset with serious health problems, was scared. “I’m going to hell,” he despairingly told a friend, to which his friend replied: “The Bible says that ‘If you truly ask forgiveness and you mean it in your heart, you can be saved.'” At that moment Wilson felt that perhaps he could escape the hellfire he believed was awaiting him.

So, what are we to make of Elwin Wilson’s attempt to reconcile himself to his victims? How legitimate were his apologetic gestures?

There can be no doubt that the man had a great deal to be sorry about and that a sincere and heart-felt apology for his egregious offenses was in order. And there can also be no doubt that Elwin Wilson went the extra mile. Like those medieval penitents who were ordered by Catholic confessors to undertake lengthy, arduous pilgrimages in order to atone for their sins, Wilson has made a strenuous effort to demonstrate remorse in many places and before many people, including members of his own family.

Elwin Wilson’s apologies have made him the object of considerable attention, and now he receives regular requests to speak publically about his conversion Ð a role he doesn’t really relish. He isn’t interested in publicity and, having said he was sorry, just wants to be free of a painful past and gain some measure of hope for the future.

This brings up at least one issue having to do with forgiveness. If the injured party senses that the apology is not an expression of empathy and compassion for their suffering, but only an attempt to assuage the perpetrator’s pain, it may fall on deaf ears. A genuine apology focuses on the feelings of other people rather than how the one who apologizes is going to benefit in the end. The words must communicate the desire not so much to be ‘saved’ but to be in right relationship, which is why Elwin Wilson’s apology to people of color, though powerful, still feels unsatisfying.

“Genuine” or “authentic” apologies include these essential elements:

A clear admission of fault or blameworthiness for specific injuries and, without excuse of justification, an unambiguous acceptance of responsibility; A sincere expression of remorse and regret for the damage our words or actions caused; An appropriate offer of reparation or restitution for said damage; A commitment not to repeat such behavior in the future.

Yet if the apology is half-hearted or seems inauthentic, how might it be reflected? The victim might simply say, “I’m sorry, but I need a better apology than that” which invites the offender to engage in more self-scrutiny and deliver a new message in which all or at least more of the important elements are present.

Now, you can say anything you want to yourself or to other people about forgiveness. But we’ll probably all agree, saying doesn’t necessarily make it so.

True forgiveness requires much more. It requires mourning, transformation and insight — some (as in the Jewish tradition) would add restitution, too. For while forgiveness may be freeing, it isn’t cheap. One way to misconstrue forgiveness is to promote a cheap and easy version of it.

You see, forgiveness is not the same as forgetting. Past experiences and the pain they cause have a great deal to teach us, so that we can try to avoid those patterns, and better yet, change them in the future. For forgiveness to function in a life-enhancing way, it more often requires remembering rather than forgetting.

Forgiveness is not approving or condoning. Forgiving someone often involves making some effort to understand them, but even if we come to fully understand them, we do not thereby conclude that their actions were acceptable. True understanding cannot occur when I in any way deny, minimize, justify, or condone the actions that harmed me.

So let’s be clear about a few givens. Forgiveness is not cheap, it’s not easy. Forgiveness is not the same as forgetting, or condoning, and it is not a form of self-sacrifice.

As we move into considering what forgiveness actually is, I’d like to invite you to get in touch with a situation or a wound that still has a hold on you; that diminishes you. I’d like to move this sermon out of the abstract and into the practical. I’ll give you a moment of silence to go within. (Pause)

What wound still has a hold on you? Some of you may have chosen yourself as a focus. Which brings up a good point: we all need our own forgiveness, for things we have done. And looking at it from another perspective, we need to forgive ourselves also about the situations in which WE have been hurt. We need to forgive ourselves for not having been able to stop whatever happened — for having limits to our control. For not having more information or making different choices. We are often reluctant to admit just how much pain we have and how much our life has been altered. In the aftermath, we have to engage our own feelings of vengeance and so on. This requires bountiful compassion for oneself, even as we hold ourselves accountable for our past actions.

I imagine that some of you chose another person or set of people who hurt you. We are in great need of intra-personal forgiveness. Showing compassion for the perpetrators of injustice or pain is a tall order. It’s a natural human response to ask, “Why should we be concerned about compassion for the perpetrators?” We feel we must focus our efforts on those who have suffered the injustice, not those who’ve caused it. But there’s no such thing as wholeness for me or wholeness for you or wholeness for “The Deserving”. Either there’s wholeness for everyone, or there’s no wholeness. Compassion that has to be earned by good behavior isn’t compassion.

Injustice and lack of forgiveness wounds the perpetrator as well as the target. And our compassion isn’t like some scarce medicine that we have to hoard lest we run out. Compassion begets more compassion. Every time we show compassion, the doors of our hearts swing open wider.

And this is not about condoning oppression or going easy on those who are hurtful. Everyone has to take responsibility for the consequences of his actions. We can insist on that and at the same time show compassion toward the perpetrator.

And I imagine some of you chose a Higher Power, however you experience it. Many of us have anger at the larger structure of things because of unfair personal losses we have experienced. I know that it was this sort of forgiveness that was most on my mind as I wrote this sermon. I remember when I lost my father as a young man. It was almost unbearable, and I was so angry. I wasn’t done with the relationship with my Dad. I cried and raged and cried and raged for a year. Eventually, I got the lesson that I had to forgive. I had to, once again, let go of the way I thought things were supposed to be, how things ought to work. I had to come back into relationship with Life itself. So some of us may haven chosen the Universe itself as what we need to forgive.

We know that letting go is a difficult practice. Yet for those who have let go, isn’t it amazing to know how that experience makes room for something new to show up. We have to let go of something that may be killing us in order for new life to emerge.

As I come to the end of my remarks, I want to emphasize what forgiveness is. Forgiveness is a turning to the good in the face of a wrongdoing or injustice. It is a merciful restraint from dwelling destructively in resentment or in thoughts of vengeance. Not that resentment or thoughts of vengeance are always bad . . . Anger need not vanish for forgiveness to be real; it need only cease to prevail as the main focus of our attention. Forgiveness involves the overcoming of injustice with good. We must come to wish ourselves, or others, or the universe well. In spite of everything, we wish betterment and flourishing of the subject of forgiveness. As we give the gift of forgiveness, we ourselves move toward healing.

Forgiveness is a process. In fact, the Institute for Forgiveness Studies in Madison, Wisconsin, has determined that forgiveness is four-phase process with twenty steps! I won’t go over the twenty steps, but their four phases are actually quite helpful.

The first of the four is the “Uncovering Phase.” In this phase, the individual truly encounters the pain that has resulted from a deep injury. Feelings of anger or even hatred may be present. Confronting these emotions and honestly understanding the injury is emotionally distressing, but it is the beginning of healing. So when we are experiencing the pain of an injury, we are often more assisted by a friend who helps us engage the pain and understand the injury than by one who initially encourages us to forgive.

The second phase is called the “Decision Phase,” and when I think of this stage, I think of an old story from the people of our First Nations. In this one a grandfather is speaking to his grandson. He says, “There are two wolves fighting inside all of us – the wolf of anger and vengeance, and the wolf of compassion and forgiveness.” The grandson asks, “Which one will win?” Grandfather replies, “The one we feed.”

In the Decision Phase, after coming in touch with the pain, the anger and vengeance, the individual realizes that to continue to focus on the injury and the injurer may cause more unnecessary suffering. The individual entertains the idea of forgiveness as a healing strategy. The individual, then, commits to forgiving the injurer who has caused such pain. Complete forgiveness is not yet realized, but the injured individual has decided to explore forgiveness and to take initial steps in the direction of full forgiveness. He starts weaning the wolf of vengeance, and actively nurturing the health of the wolf of compassion and forgiveness. In so doing, the individual enters the “Work Phase.” Feeding the urge toward forgiveness may involve forming new ways of thinking about the perpetrator.

An adult I know who was abused by her mother as a child went from seeing her mother’s abuse as malevolent and powerful to seeing it as weak and pitiful. She strove to understand her mother’s childhood and the suffering of abuse at the hands of her father, and put her own injurious events in context by understanding the context and pressure her mother was under. This new perspective did not excuse her mother, but helped the daughter see her as a member of the wounded human community. Some significant amount of empathy and compassion was generated.

In the “work phase,” this woman also did the work of accepting the pain she bore as a result of her mother’s actions. She had no sense that she deserved the pain, and knew it had been unjustly given. Still, she decided to not pass the pain on to others, nor very importantly to pass it back to her mother. Eventually this woman began to offer goodwill directly to her mother, and there was some reconciliation. In so doing, this woman moved toward growth and toward embracing life again.

The fourth phase is that of “Deepening.” The individual realizes a gain of emotional relief from the process of forgiveness. They may be able to find some kind of meaning that has emerged through their bearing of pain. They may discover a renewed purpose in life and an active concern for others, which they did not fully realize was missing. “Thus, the forgiver discovers the paradox of forgiveness: as we serve others by giving them the gifts of mercy, generosity, and love, we ourselves are healed.” This inspires today’s sermon title: “Forgiveness is for Giving.”

In closing, forgiveness is hard work and a long process. Forgiveness is free, yet it is not cheap. It may be a good idea to visit our injuries and resentments regularly to see if forgiveness is in order. I invite you to choose one area in the coming week in which you’d like to walk a little further on the path toward forgiveness. A sage once prayed, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Indeed, may our trespasses be forgiven by those we have harmed, and may we be the first to do the difficult and whole-making work of forgiveness. May it be so.