Apologies, Not Apologetics

Something keeps creeping up in my mind, almost as a mantra, as I hear and see and experience much of our world’s news. From within the OccupyWallStreet movement and other protests national and global, to the new normal of political rhetoric, the Penn State abuse case, and much more.

A recent piece by Dylan Ratigan on the Huffington Post touched on similar elements, but there was still something missing. The common thread that keeps coming to my mind is forgiveness. Whether it is the crying out for accountability, or the blatant lack of taking responsibility for one’s actions, forgiveness seems to be something that is sorely lacking from but desperately needed in our world.  And it seems to me, that as important as discussions of justice may be (both legal and spiritual), forgiveness and its role in the work of justice and reconciliation should not be forgotten.

Much could be said about the various specific events I listed above, and how forgiveness may (ought to) play a role within them. For OccupyWallStreet, the masses are calling for a change, calling for justice, but perhaps less explicitly I also hear them seeking an apology. People have been severely hurt by our socio-politico-economic system as it has been left to run amok, and that hurt has been physical, emotional, mental and spiritual.  How different might the public feel and act toward our shared situation were those who gambled with the future to actually express remorse?

And as we continue to witness the use of extreme force against the protesters, as we may pray for non-violent actions and unarmed citizens to be physically and constitutionally protected, isn’t there still an opportunity for apologies regarding forceful acts to have a far more profound impact than that of a nightstick or a spray canister?

In stories of abuse, both physical and economic, how much are we as witnesses begging for an apology as much as an admission of guilt? We seek answers and explanations from those involved, yet remain dissatisfied and horrified at what we know has taken place. And in that seeking of guilt, should we not also balance our anger with some acknowledgement of our very human propensity to commit serious harm against one another? That is what I know is the hardest to ask in talking about forgiveness – to still seek out compassion for the abuser as much as the abused.

In my opinion, one of the most powerful, cogent, and sometimes even subversive phrases is “I’m sorry.” Paradoxically simple and complex, I have found these words to bring healing in the midst of suffering, to bear witness to pain, and to offer a needed dose of compassion. I have also found them infuriating as they are uttered by someone who has wronged me… and yet later found deep gratitude for the opportunity to mend a broken relationship. Where are these words from the mouths of those who claim to lead us? Where are they from those who seek and maintain power? Where are they?

I do not naively assume that merely saying ‘I’m sorry’ is all it takes to bring about change. After an apology is uttered, there is yet much more work to be done to mend damaged relationships. In reflecting on forgiveness, I was drawn back to the example of Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission founded after the lifting of apartheid rule in South Africa. (To throw in a book recommendation, look into The Heart of Forgiveness.)

I am not necessarily suggesting that a national truth and reconciliation commission be implemented, although it would be quite something to see such an attempt be made–similar in fact to those who call for a Department of Peace to be formed and have as important a role in governing and as much financial support as the Department of Defense. I am suggesting that the work of forgiveness and reconciliation be more readily considered by those in positions of leadership. I do not think it coincidental that Archbishop Tutu’s work in forgiveness is what came to my mind, as my Christian background has much to say about this topic.

Throughout my life, forgiveness, mercy, grace, and atonement have been words and topics of many a sermon, class, and conversation.  None of these are very simply understood, as they are constantly teaching and providing opportunities for spiritual and relational growth. To share another way of thinking about atonement, gleaned from an undergraduate professor, break down the word and consider it this way: at-one-ment.

I am not thinking in terms of spiritual accounting or getting caught up in the complicity of guilt toward our actions. At-one-ment is about bringing ourselves back into a mutual relationship. Grace teaches us that God’s forgiveness is perfect; but it does not teach that we should be left unchanged after the experience of grace. And no matter how much in the image of God we may be created, we are not perfect creatures. Offering grace between one another is hard, constant work, as is the work of forgiveness and reconciliation.

I have also found myself, now that Advent has begun, reflecting on the example of grace that was injected into creation in the most vulnerable form of an infant child. If this season of Advent and the coming Christmas holiday has something to teach all of us, perhaps it can be this: we have the opportunity to do something different. We have the chance to make a choice of love, and to engage in the necessarily difficult task of repairing the world. I offer these words as a challenge to how we may come to respond to the crises of our times, and to the example we may hope to leave with our children.