THE DANCE BETWEEN APOLOGY AND FORGIVENESS

How many times have you thought, “I could forgive him if he would only apologize.” Or asked yourself, “How can I let it go when she has never shown any remorse?

Clearly, there’s a relationship between apology and forgiveness. A sincere apology makes it easier to forgive. (Don’t even try if you don’t mean it. That makes things worse.)

Conversely, a “demand” for apology makes it almost impossible for the offender to apologize, even when they want to. A close relative once told me, years after the event, “I wanted to apologize but I couldn’t, because you were so angry.” I was shocked to realize that my own anger had been the barrier to receiving what I most deeply wanted – a sincere acknowledgement of the hurt her behavior had caused me.

I was on the other end not long ago. I was 15 minutes late for a court appearance, and rehearsed all the way into the courtroom the mea culpa I would offer. But before I could open my mouth, the judge started to lecture me, with pointed finger, about how irresponsible I was. I stood there mute and took it, but I did not apologize. I felt humiliated, and clung to my last shred of dignity by my silence. I really was sorry, but I was not going to grovel.

What should I have done? I wish I could have remembered that a demand for an apology is really a disguised plea. The person is saying, “Please help me forgive you. Make it easier.” I should have just said, “I’m sorry I was late, Your Honor, and I’ll try not to do it again.”
But going back to the beginning. What if you’re on the other side of the dance? You’re wanting to forgive someone who shows no sign of remorse. Your anger is eating you up, and you know you need to move on. What then? 

I’ve found it easier if I can do my own “searching moral inventory” (as AA says) and ask myself how I may have contributed to the rupture. Very few breakdowns in relationships are all completely one-sided. If I can find anything for which to apologize, the conversation can move forward.

Examples: Did I make a negative assumption instead of asking a question? Was I too defensive? Did I misinterpret something the other said or did? Was I supersensitive? Did I fail to recognize and clear up a faulty assumption the other may have made about my words or behavior? Did I expect too much? Did I miss the other person’s fear or pain?

If you can even start with something as simple as, “I’m really sorry that our relationship seems to have hit a bumpy patch, and I’d like to make it right” this will carry you a long way in a positive direction.

The Bible offers this advice: “If your friend has anything against you, leave your sacrifice on the altar and go make it right with your friend.” And “If anyone has offended you, go to him/her privately and try to make it right.”  I take this to mean that, whether I’m in the right or in the wrong, I should be willing to take the lead in the dance toward reconciliation.

Carolyn

The Feather Story

The Feather Story

            A wealthy Jewish man is nearing the end of his life.  He tells his rabbi that he wants to make amends to all those about whom he has spoken ill.  The Rabbi instructs him to take a bag of feathers and put one feather at the doorway to the homes of everyone he has slandered.

            Thinking this a pretty easy task, the elderly man gets a bag of feathers and places a feather at the entrance to everyone’s home of whom he has spoken ill.  Having completed the task, he asks the Rabbi what should he do next?  The rabbi tells him to return to each home and retrieve every feather that he placed at the entrances.

            But he can’t.  The feathers have floated off to the four winds.  In the much same way he cannot retrieve the ill words he has spoken about others.  The gist of this story is that there is no limit to where our negative talk about others can spread.

            I came across this version of the feather story in Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis’ book The Committed Life.  Importantly the teachings of all faiths share a profound abhorrence of slander and back biting.

– When the Prophet Mohammed was asked who is the best Muslim, he replied: “He is the one from whom Muslims are safe from the evil of his tongue and hands.”

– In Leviticus one reads: “When you speak things about others that you would be ashamed to say in their presence, you are not only disobeying God’s Word, and you are also destroying that person’s reputation in the mind of your listener.”

– According to John, “When you find yourself gossiping, repent at once so that God will forgive you of this terrible, destructive sin.  Gossip has its roots in jealousy, hate and self-pride.  As a result, you are murdering the person in your heart.”

            As well, central to these religions’ teachings is the power of healing and  forgiveness.  Though we can’t call back hurtful words, we can speak new words of apology.  It’s not easy, but broken relationships can often be restored…with a tough conversation.”

           Sig Cohen

Did You Cut the Toikey?

It’s funny how a single incident or remark can change a relationship forever. The slightest word, look or act can radically and unexpectedly shift the ground beneath us. A graphic expression of this occurred in the 1991 film Avalon, which follows the fortunes of an extended immigrant Jewish family after World War II.

Over the years the family developed several traditions that bound its members together. One was Thanksgiving dinner. It happened that one brother and his wife habitually arrived late for the event. So one year the host decided not to wait for his brother to arrive and began carving the turkey.

When the brother and his wife finally arrived and saw that the meal had begun, he exploded and left the house screaming: “I can’t believe you cut the toikey!”

According to the story, that moment irreparably severed the bond between two brothers and their families.

The incident mirrors what often happens in real life: A will that favors one child over another; a dispute among siblings over whether to place an incapacitated parent in a nursing home; or unilaterally deciding that a family member should no longer drive now that she’s reached a certain age. All of these actions can forever alter a previously stable (and loving) relationship.

How can we know the repercussions of our actions or words? What does it take to anticipate the impact of a single remark, or action? Maybe the best we can do is think through the repercussions of our actions and put ourselves in the place of a potentially aggrieved party. Perhaps, there is nothing we can do to prevent hurting, offending, or angering someone who at the slightest remark will turn a relationship on its head and allow years of friendship to evaporate in an instance.

Who are we? The person who easily takes offense and is willing to sacrifice a relationship in the name of pride or status? Or, someone who mindlessly makes statements that cause irreversible harm? Or, one who weighs the potential outcome and relies on his or her inner resources to guide their actions?

Sig

LET’S HEAR IT FOR “GOOD ENOUGH”!

A lot of suffering is caused by trying to live up to someone’s ideal of how “it ought to be.” Or expecting them to conform to your model. Someone said, “The perfect is the enemy of the good.”
We all know in our head that there’s no such thing as perfection, yet we insist on it (from others). This can be especially true in families, where we really should know better. A lot of tough conversations could be made easier if we could value authenticity and drop our expectations that others can’t (or won’t) meet.
A care-giver friend of mine asked her siblings to contribute money for the expenses of their parents who were living with her. The siblings lived far away and could not give time. She thought that request was perfectly reasonable. They disagreed. She felt hurt and angry for awhile, then made a conscious decision not to let it ruin their relationship. They did come and spell her so she and her husband could take two vacations a year. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she appreciated the break and decided it was good enough.
Nursing old hurts with a less than perfect parent who now has dementia is not only futile – it’s cruel. And exhausting. When I think about how many mistakes I’ve made with my own kids, it’s easier to forgive my parents theirs. They wanted to be good parents. And they were good enough.
I’m working on letting go of my ideas of how other people should behave. I want to see their real beauty as they are and love them, warts and all. I want to find their faults endearing or, as my husband likes to say to young couples he’s about to marry, “You have to learn to trivialize each other’s idiosyncrasies.”

Carolyn

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