Forgiveness is powerful.  It has the power to heal and to change the future of relationships, whether they are between people or nations.  Forgiveness can ease the burden of guilt on the offender, and it can free the offended from the burden of resentment.  Like anything powerful, however, forgiveness can be misunderstood and misused.  It is a process, and it doesn’t come cheap.  Forgiveness cannot occur without the offender first asking for it – and then taking responsibility for the harm done. But when a person’s  “I’m sorry, forgive me!” comes without a commitment to changing the offending behaviors – then it is an apology not worth the paper it is written on. A need for forgiveness indicates, among other things, that trust has been broken.  Re-building trust is a long and labor-intensive process, one that must be initiated and maintained by the individual who has broken the trust. The person who has been hurt chooses whether or not to remain open to the process.  Receptivity and openness to a person who has betrayed our trust is very difficult and needs to be recognized as such.  The offending party is always “over it” before the offended party, and may attempt to guilt-trip the latter for not “moving on”.  While a responsible apology creates the possibility for dialogue and renewal, real forgiveness can only occur at the end of a successful process.  Finally, forgiveness must not be confused with forgetfulness.  The only way to forget a betrayal is to enter into denial, which is a self-defeating defense mechanism.  Forgiveness means letting go of the desire for revenge and receptivity to transformation, but it does not involve memory loss.

Last month during the tenth anniversary of 9/11, I saw signs prominently displayed on the lawns of a few local churches saying “Never Forget”.  I wondered who could possibly forget the horror and the immense tragedy of September 11th?  Could we possibly forget the nearly 3000 we lost? Can we forget the U.S. was a victim of a terrorist attack?  These being religious organizations, however, I wished the signs had said “Forgive”.  I worried the signs were code for “Never forget to hate”.  Since 9/11, I also see lots of bumper stickers that say “Support Our Troops”.  Other than the terrible reception shown some returning Vietnam vets a generation ago, who could possibly not support our troops?  Not support the valiant, self-sacrificing young men and women, often with limited options for college or career, those who fight our wars for us?  Impossible. I worry the signs are code for “Support the War”.  And that’s a different story.  Recently during a nationally televised presidential candidate’s debate, a gay soldier was booed by the crowd.  Since none of the candidates denounced this unpatriotic display, I sure hope the folks with “Support Our Troops” on their bumpers did so.

When it comes to arguments with friends and family, we are all aware that there are rules of the game.  What is so difficult is keeping those rules in mind in the middle of a fight.  When tensions are high and we are hurt and angry, our very physiology highjacks us to a place of knee-jerk responses, a place where the only rule is survival of the fittest.  We are wired this way because there was a time when our survival really did depend on “eat or be eaten”.  Transcending our biology takes intentionality and practice.  Adult time outs are useful, as we can “take 10” if we feel ourselves being swept away down a river of anger. Then we are able to access the rules of fighting fair, and maximize our potential for resolution, compromise, and healing.  We need to stick to the point – to stay with whatever precipitated the initial argument.  We must resist the temptation to justify our position with old, unresolved resentments.  It’s important to take turns, to wait until the other person has finished speaking.  And, while we wait, it is crucial that we listen, really listen, not just attend with half an ear as we prepare our rebuttal.  Good listening involves listening with our hearts, not just our heads, and with what is called third-ear listening.  We listen to our loved one’s words but also plumb for what their heart is saying within those words.  For example, “You’re such a slob!” could also mean, “When you leave stuff around I think it means you don’t care about me or our life together”.  Finally, taking responsibility for our own actions is an important part of maturity.  No matter how wronged we feel, because we’re human, it just makes sense to approach every argument with the understanding that we may have played a part in the problem.