I can be a very forgiving person. In fact, I do not like it when people use the wrong that someone has done to them as a vicious weapon against the individual. Yet, I do not forgive easily. Have I just contradicted myself? I hope not.
As an aside, I do not regarding letting go, as we now say, as forgiving a person. We cannot always do something about the wrong that has been done to us. But we need to get on with our lives nonetheless.
When it comes to holding a grudge, or not forgiving, some people are rather like vultures: they have a feast. No matter what these individuals are doing or no matter where they are, they can find a way to remind the wrongdoer of her or his error. They are utterly vicious in this regard. The wrongdoer could have shown a depth of contrition beyond anything imaginable and could have done everything conceivable to make amends. Still, these vulture-like individuals are fixated with the wrong that the individual did. Indeed, what they do is often enough worse than the wrong that was done. This sort of thing has no appeal to me.
If you have wronged me, I can assure you that I will not forget it. However, the last thing I want to do is have the wrong that you did to me infiltrate my life. To my mind, this is tantamount to giving the wrong a double victory. But I will not forgive unless I see that I have reason to do so, which brings me to the idea of a mistake.
Nowadays, the thought seems to be that everyone is entitled to make, at least once, just about any and every mistake. Alas, it is claimed that making mistakes comes with being human. Well, yes and no. There is no way to know everything and to get all the facts right about every situation. Moreover, I think that we can surely be thrown into unexpected situations that require way more self-control than a person could be expected to have.
Suppose that a woman is married and decides to cheat on her husband, because he travels a lot and she is “feeling lonely,” She takes her wedding wrong off and goes to a bar for singles. From where I stand, her behavior is unforgivable. Why? Because there is way too much intentionality here—way too much deliberateness. There is no way for persons in full possession of their faculties to take off a wedding ring or to go to a bar for singles unintentionally. She cannot help feeling lonely. What I do not think, though, is that her feelings of loneliness excuses her behavior.
I have been just a bit too harsh. The woman I have just described could earn what I call restorative forgiveness. What I do not think, though, is that her current husband has any obligation whatsoever to wait around for her to earn it. For he finds out only because I am his friend and I happen to be in the bar filling in for one of the cooks when this all transpires. She and I have never met. But her husband has several pictures of her on his desk. So I know exactly what she looks like. Not only do we have way too much intentionality and deliberateness, we also have the further intent to hid the wrong. The very nature of infidelity that is this deliberate and intentional is that it transforms that which is integral to marriage, namely the sex act.
Now, what concerns me is that we appear to be living in a culture that seems prepared to claim that what she did is excusable because, after all, she was feeling lonely, given that her husband is always on the road.
Feelings are feelings, you know. And she certainly did not ask to feel lonely. Besides, had she not felt lonely, then she would not have been unfaithfu. Indeed, her infidelity is her husband’s fault.
This conclusion gives new meaning to the idea of action at a distant. And the conclusion would be ludicrous but for the fact that we seem to be in a society that embraces some version of precisely this view.
Anyone who is prepared to forgive a cheating spouse who advances this argument win’s the Darwin award for stupidity.
Now, let us imagine that things proceed somewhat differently. The wife goes out and has an affair; and the shame and guilt that she experiences has no equal in terms of the pain that she has experienced in her life. She leaves him a note informing him of what she has done, begging for forgiveness. She makes it clear that it is perfectly understandable for him to want a divorce, and that she is prepared to sign the papers for it. Further, she informs him that she has moved back home and that she is seeking spiritual help from the clergy person of their house of worship. If this isn’t owning the wrong that one did, then I do not know what is. The husband may or may not be willing to forgive her. However, I trust that one can see that this approach changes things dramatically. The difference between these two cases applies across the board to wrongful behavior in general.
It is my view that restorative forgiveness has to be earned. And that one cannot begin that journey by denying or discounting the wrong that one has done. I tend to be a very forgiving person when I can see that there has been a profound transformation in a person’s life, where the wrong committed serves as a bellwether against future wrongs of that type being committed.
This, too, is a judgment call; and one can be mistaken about that. But the present trend of supposing that all wrongs coming with a ready made excuse, namely our humanity, makes a mockery out of the moral excellence of which we human beings are so very capable.
So back to me: I have had far fewer occasions to forgive than I would like to have had in my life. If this claim makes sense, then this entry has been worthwhile.
