The Power of Forgiveness on Wellness
Transcript for August 22, 2010 by Bob Kleinheksel
Oscar Wilde said, “Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much!” We hear a lot about forgiveness, the need for forgiveness. Many of us have been instructed, or indoctrinated by models of forgiveness as interpreted from the Christian writings. The word forgiveness tends to roll easily from our lips and yet it is an incredibly complex and difficult dynamic. Possible in most situations; impossible perhaps in others. Today is but a primer for further thought – as a variety of dimensions will only be touched upon. I do wish, however, to raise some issues, questions and possibilities around forgiveness and point to how much it matters to our lives, happiness, relating and well being.
Paul Boese said, “Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.” He and others go so far as to say that forgiveness is one of the most important attitudes, decisions and dynamics for the human family –that the future of humanity may depend on our ability to forgive.
While being hopeful about the place and possibility of forgiveness – and our capacity for it, in no way do I mean to convey that I understand or know great pain or great struggles. I have not been in grave situations and been faced with the heavy decision to forgive or not; I do not wish to diminish the power that has come through hurt and suffering and the anger and visceral reactions that come in the aftermath. I make no assumptions about where each of us is regarding forgiveness. I honor what you believe about forgiveness and trust your ability to think deeply about this broad and eternally debated topic.
Last week Rabbi Chava set the stage in part for today by introducing the concept of grace, which, in Hebrew means living softly. Grace, not as something supernaturally granted…whether conditionally or unconditionally…but rather a state in which one lives. Chava spoke about a pervasive spirit of living softly – and part of living softly, in my opinion, is living with more openness to letting go and not being governed by our individual needs, instincts and egos –or even hurts. It is the ability to let go of the need for justice, revenge or vengeance.
A key element with forgiveness may be giving up a need or right for justice – if, over time, somehow things are not or do not seem equitable. When the courts are done adjudicating decisions and things seem or are unfair – such as with some divorcing couples? One first seeks to rectify the situation if it is a gross miscalculation. Beyond that, many continue expecting fairness and justice – and are chronically angry and vengeful even. What if we are wronged in some small way? What if someone cuts you off on the highway? Do you react with anger, take it personally? Have a need to get them back in some way? There are many options in every situation. There are many responses for every circumstance.
I draw on the tradition lived out by the Amish. I point to a foundation of letting go, forgiving, not hanging on to grudges, pain and anger as a fundamental tenant of their belief system. Remember the shooting deaths of five Amish girls some time ago? We all asked how the Amish forgive what seemed unforgivable. Steven Nolt wrote a book entitled Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy. He describes how central forgiveness is to the Amish people. Among other things, the Amish believe that God’s forgiveness of them is dependent on their extending forgiveness to others. The Amish believe that demonstrating an attitude and spirit of forgiveness is first critical and that what follows, through a very long and difficult process, is the emotional and psychological forgiveness. Do you remember how they expressed forgiveness? They expressed forgiveness to the memory of the killer; they refused to talk badly about the killer or degrade his character. They reached out to the killer’s family as fellow victims; they showed compassion by attending the killer’s funeral. They begin with forgiveness and not blaming, then work through the various and laborious components of forgiveness over time. They live out what Jesus spoke of in forgiving 70 times 7.
I believe there is a difference between forgiveness and reconciliation. Forgiveness is mostly an internal dynamic – dimensions unseen, but felt and known and decided upon within ourselves. Forgiveness is not forgetting; forgiveness is not reconciliation. Forgiveness is a decision and state of mind; reconciliation is a re-establishment of the relationship as it once was – or points to a modified and ongoing relationship. For many couples divorcing and for many people in normal discourse – the essential reality is letting go and forgiving…and not necessarily reconciliation. I wish for my relationship with my former spouse to be positive, civil. I support her and wish her well. I do not, however, wish to re-establish our relationship as it once was. Each of us forgives and lets go and moves on into life as best we can. Forgiving and seeing a larger picture allow us both to proceed with greater health and happiness. In a sense, we both reconcile or agree to move on our own paths, but we have neither the will nor desire – nor do we see the possibility to re-create the relationship we once had.
Forgiving is not forgetting, nor does it imply reconciliation with those who have caused harm and suffering. Forgiveness is deciding to let go of hurt, anger and resentment in order to experience healthier relationships, less stress and hostility, lower blood pressure and greater psychological well-being. Letting go of the addiction to our anger or the need to get someone back can allow us to focus on other positive aspects of our lives.
Forgiving and living in a spirit of forgiveness does not mean being a doormat; it does not mean we do not pursue justice, live healthy boundaries, stand up for ourselves, handle conflict directly, or disregard the laws of the community. It means discerning as best we can how and when to let go and process beyond anger and resentment and our need for justice. It means discerning as best we can how and when to not give power any longer to the one who has perpetrated harm or wrongdoing.
Remembering our own capacity to hurt and judge, to cause suffering and pain allows us, compels us to forgive others, to give them a break, to give them benefit of the doubt in certain occasions. Would we wish to be forgiven? To be given another chance? To be treated softly?
Ghandi said that the weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. And Mother Theresa said if we really want to love, we must learn how to forgive. I would go on to say that if one wishes to be fully alive, free, happy and healthy, one must forgive.
If you undertake a study of the literature and research on the benefits of forgiveness, you will find overwhelming evidence showing how health, longevity of life, levels of happiness and lower stress come from letting go, moving beyond anger and forgiving others. It is unambiguously clear. Think about it. Think how irrational, limiting and unhealthy it is to hold onto anger; to bear grudges, to carry energy to get people back. Of course these are states many people choose or fall into, but they do not add to life and health and happiness. They do not contribute to mental, spiritual and physical wellness. Forgiving, not necessarily reconciling, is a better option if one wishes to live with more grace, greater health, deeper capacity to love and be loved. Those who forgive and let go, those who challenge their attachments to anger, pessimism and holding on to blaming others are happier and more successful all the way around.
One of my favorite scriptural passages comes from Luke 15 – the piece commonly known as the story of the prodigal son. It really is a commentary on the nature of the father. The one son asks for his share of the inheritance. He goes and blows it all in a faraway land on wine and women. He soon has nothing and looks for a job and can only become a farm hand feeding the pigs. He was desperate enough to eat what the pigs were eating. So, he comes to his senses – or as some say, begins to scheme on how he can get back into the good graces of the father, to be back where he knows there is more than enough. He concocts a plan and has it all worked out. He decides to make his way back home and while going he rehearses his plan. At the very least he will become a hired hand and get back into some semblance of a viable life – at least with food enough to eat. And to me, what comes next is one of the most profound, beautiful acts and realities that can take place. While the son was yet far off, the father must have known of the son’s coming. The father went out to greet the son. Who knows how far he traveled to meet up with him. The son started rehearsing his confession and his plan to start again. The father interrupts him or does not even acknowledge this and embraces him. The father goes on to celebrate the son’s safe return with a ring, a robe, a feast and fine shoes.
Seemingly, the father rejoiced over the son before the son could make his case. Seemingly, the celebration and welcome was unconditional and not dependent on perceived or genuine repentance – unless, of course, one understands repentance as the son simply returning home – and thus turning away from the life and lifestyle he had been about. Now, this story can be dismissed as overly sentimental and ideal. For some, it may be unrealistic to demonstrate this kind of love, this kind of grace, this softness, this version of forgiveness. It seems, though, that the father, like the Amish, was possessed with love and softness first, then would process financial and psychological issues afterward. What does this story tell us, invite in us?
Perhaps we are led back to an invitation of being more open to living softly, graciously in our interpersonal encounters. Maybe, too, we are compelled to examine how tied we are to conditions met by others before we act with compassion or grace. Are we conditional people – or do we live and love with few conditions? Are our actions and responses dependent on true remorse and repentance? Maybe they should be in many cases…and in others not. And, if we think theologically or cosmologically about this account in Luke, how then do we imagine the God of our many understandings? A god of justice with conditions? Or a God of second chances first governed by love for people and creation? And how do I then choose to live based on this concept of God and how the cosmos might work? Again, I ask, are we conditional people, awaiting the right conditions and attitudes held by others before we act with grace, forgiveness and compassion?
I introduce an older book written in 1969, translated first into English in 1970: The Sunflower, by Simon Wiesenthal. Many C3 people read this a number of years ago. It is about the possibilities and limits of forgiveness. Wiesenthal, a Jew wasting away in a concentration camp, describes at length his experiences and thoughts in and through an encounter with a dying SS soldier –and later with the soldier’s mother.
He puts this question to the reader and to a number of would-be responders: You are a prisoner in a Nazi concentration camp. A dying Nazi soldier asks for your forgiveness. What would you do? The book details the horrific story of Simon’s time in concentration camps and culminates with the encounter with the SS soldier. The second half of the book records responses from the likes of the Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, Matthew Fox and many others – Christians, Jews, atheists, a Nazi war criminal, a Green Beret and so on. I highly recommend it. I re-read it over the past two weeks and was moved and challenged again.
Simon and all the responders detail the complexity of forgiveness. Matthew Fox, well known Episcopalian Priest and professor, states that one should forgive, not out of altruism but out of the need to be free to get on with one’s life, but we ought not forget. We know Simon did not forget, but rather chose a life committed to justice and compassion –bringing Nazi criminals to court. If he and we can remember, then maybe we will choose life over death, truth and facts over denial, softness in the end instead of vengeance. Martin Marty, former professor of American religious history at Chicago University, writes that grace needs to be mediated through people – that we have to somehow see potentials in the lives of even the worst people. That we can release or dam the flow of grace. This possibility is shared by Christians, people of other faiths and of no faith. Perhaps, he says, if I forgive in the face of true repentance and true resolve, I am free. Desmond Tutu, as he speaks of Nelson Mandela’s commitment to bring healing and reconciliation to his deeply divided and traumatized nation of South Africa writes this as one of the responders in the Sunflower: It is clear that if we look only to retribution justice, that we could just as well close up shop. Forgiveness is not some nebulous thing. It is practical politics. Without forgiveness, there is not future.
I am compelled to think of Simon Wiesenthal confronted by the dying SS Nazi soldier asking for absolution. In the end, Simon left the man not answering his questions and not responding to his statements of regret and plagued consciousness. Would we go through life – through life’s small and large circumstances of hurt, pain and betrayal with as much thought, introspection, struggle and heart as Simon –and at the very least – or very most – leaving something or someone unanswered rather than exacerbating an already tragic scene?
Would we, even in suffering, be another’s salvation? Even in some small way as Simon swatted the fly away from the dying SS Nazi soldier –or held his extended hand? I convey these words from a luxurious, privileged position. I have not witnessed or tasted directly harm and suffering perpetrated by others against me. I have not faced agonizing situations such as the Amish affected by the death of five precious girls, or Simon Wiesenthal in the Sunflower. Still, I can prepare myself as best I can, naively and realistically, to face the world and all its people, many of them with great capacity for causing harm, and open my arms, my mind and heart; to pursue justice, to mete out fairness as I can -and in the end, when my health and happiness depend on it, to let go, to trust the beauty and possibilities of the universe and to live a bit more softly.
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