Fr. Henry O’Shea:
The olive wreath, the palm of peace,
Let child-like Faith hold fast,
And bid the warring passions cease,
And forgive the bitter past.
John Keble
Can we forgive murder? Do we have the right to forgive murder?
Can we forgive, do we have the right to forgive, the murder which has always been part of human behaviour? Can we forgive, what is happening to innocent children, born and unborn, to men and women, at this very moment, in Gaza, Ukraine, South Sudan, in our own allegedly civilised, and compassionate society: and this just to mention a few of the blots. Is genocide any business of ours?
We might say, changing channels or turning on TikToc or whatever is grabbing me at the moment: these are big murders and happened or are happening far away and out of sight. A few minutes in a news-bulletin.
And what about the smaller murders of our smaller lives? Can we forgive the bully in school, or workplace, or monastery? Can we forgive the boy or girl who is always ready with the killing slag; the monk, relative or colleague who is always ready with the caustic remark, the clever put-down? Can we forgive the slow passive-aggressive holocaust of the silent husband, wife or partner? Can we forgive those who always know better, who are always more competent, always holier? Can we forgive those who make a tyranny of their generosity, who use their talents as weapons for control of others, for uncontrolled greed and accumulation of power? Can we forgive the chronically irresponsible? And what about the chronically indifferent? I’m all right Jack, or Jill.
The love Jesus talked about and lived is a tough love. Not tough as the king in today’s gospel who has the power to forgive a debt or to ruin the life of a debtor – a power this king does not hesitate to use.
Christ’s love, God’s love, is tough on those who are asked to receive it, tough on those who are asked to practise it.
This tough love is more than a sentimental melting of the heart, which often can be self-indulgent and short-lived; more than a clever calculation of resulting personal benefit. This tough love demands realism about myself and realism about others – a realism which is not the same as a seeking of confirmation of myself or the same as my caustic cynicism about others. This realistic love does not deny the reality of evil, of hurt, of malice. This realistic requires self-discipline, self-knowledge. It requires what Saint Benedict calls expansion of the heart.
This expansion of the heart renounces, gives up, the luxury of revenge.This expansion of the heart does its best to escape from or, better, never enter the endless belt of recrimination, judgement and the emotional annihilation of others.
Can we forgive? Have we the right to forgive? Left to our own devices we probably cannot forgive.
Often, we cannot see how we have the right, let alone the obligation, to forgive all the big and small murders we experience and that we commit in our lives. Often, it is simply too self-satisfying to rejoice in revenge, to enjoy the suffering, the come-uppance, of another. There is certain satisfaction in collecting and burnishing our grudges, in letting the weeds of resentment grow unchecked.
But Christ is not primarily concerned with rights. Instead, or in addition, he tells us that we have a duty to forgive, that we can forgive. We have a duty to forgive because when we were baptised we were made part of Christ and with that being made part, we were made capable of doing and thinking things that might otherwise appear impossible, naïve, even foolish, to so-called normal thinking.
We can and must forgive because Christ forgave and showed us what tough love can lead to. Tough love can lead to death, to the death of self-centeredness, greed, exploitation, dismissal of others. But beyond this death we are led to Resurrection. We can and must forgive because when Christ made us part of himself, he made us part of one another, with power to kill one another and power to give life to each other. St Paul reminds us in today’s second reading: ‘The life and death of each of us has its influence on others…’.
We can and must forgive because when we look in the mirror who is Christ, we realise how much there is in ourselves that needs to be forgiven. We realise how much there is in ourselves that has already been forgiven.
Our Saviour’s look, so sad and sweet,
Melted the rebel soul;
Go, trace His steps with willing feet,
And let love make thee whole.
John Keble