Mary Adamski: As we forgive those who trespass against us

VIEW FROM THE PEW

How long does it take us to recite the Lord’s Prayer together at Mass … less than a minute, for sure. So, maybe a couple seconds of reflection might occur when we say “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

On a recent Sunday, that familiar phrase struck a chord in my heart, mind and soul. So much so, that I fantasized about taking the microphone and enthralling the congregation with my stream-of-conscious homily. It was on my mind ever since so here you are!

It was just minutes after we heard the reading from Matthew’s Gospel that started with the apostle Peter asking Jesus how often do we have to forgive someone … “as many as seven times?” But Jesus answered “not seven times but seventy-seven.” In other words, there is no limit on the need to forgive.

That came a couple hours after I read yet more news in the wake of Hawaii’s heartbreaking tragedy. It was another dose of stories with the theme that someone has to be made to pay for the deaths and destruction in Lahaina. Lawsuits and investigations, resentment against people who are not suffering, the ongoing chorus of blame and defame. It almost drowns out the continuing story of resilient people surviving and moving forward and the outpouring of love, support and kindness coming their way from other people.

The last thing an anxious, frightened, grieving person can handle is being told that you are going through the stages of grief or loss and you’ll get past it. Many of us have been there and know it all too well.

But I can’t help pondering what a difference it could be, how it would mend shattered spirits, if apology and forgiveness were truly part of our culture.

What if people in power, instead of distancing themselves, ducking questions and issuing statements and edicts from afar were to say “I’m sorry. We were blindsided by the speed and power of the wind and fire. We never faced anything like it and didn’t plan for it. In hindsight, we see where we made mistakes.”

I think those unspoken thoughts are spinning in the heads of every thoughtful person who has a frontline job, from the government leaders recruiting committees of advisors as they spin to resolve problems they never dreamed of facing, to the firefighters overwhelmed with the memory of losing to the nastiest forces of nature, to the police officers whose efforts to control a situation were a fatal failure. “I shoulda, coulda, failed to …” is the root of nightmares. The poor people who lost their homes and businesses are not the only ones losing sleep these days.

Tuning out the vultures

What if a person who is suffering, grieving, worrying would try to empathize instead of accuse. What if everyone involved would talk and listen to each other. What if we’d choose to tune out the agitators and the vultures. It makes me sick to watch the rash of television commercials from lawyers trolling for clients with a goal to reap profit from disaster. I confess I’m not in sympathy with activists who use the tragedy as a cause, bolstering an attitude of “us against them” that is rooted in a perverse sense of entitlement.

We Christians consider forgiveness a virtue, but it is not a concept that we invented or own. It is not just a spiritual idea. I think it’s the unstated core of being a human, a friend, a family member, a team player at every level. I don’t like or agree with everything you believe or do, but I accept, like, love you. And if we are going to survive together, we have to forgive now and again.

On that Sunday a couple weeks ago, I thought about what disengaged, glib and entitled believers we Christians can be, even during that one hour of Sundays theoretically set aside to think of, and talk to, God. When I say “we” I do mean me, too.

As onerous as the answer may have been for Peter, he didn’t turn away from Jesus, but stayed on his path of learning about God who forgives and loves us imperfect, struggling, faltering humans. Well, the message in that Gospel story did get a lot less “happily ever after.” Jesus continued with a parable about a fortunate servant whose king forgave his debt. Then the guy turned around and punished a man who was in debt to him. The outraged king handed the unforgiving wretch over “to the torturers.”

Jesus told Peter and company “So will my heavenly Father do to you unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart.” Gulp.

Actually, it was not a day for sweetness and light lessons. The day’s liturgy began with a reading from the Old Testament book of Sirach: ‘Wrath and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight. The vengeful will suffer the Lord’s vengeance, for he remembers their sin in detail.

“Forgive your neighbor’s injustice, then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven. Could anyone nourish anger against another and expect healing from the Lord?”

And it continued … You can find it in the missalette or the Bible.

The scholars who compile the liturgical calendar were on a roll with the theme of forgiveness and repentance. As I understand it, they chose readings years ago for the three-year cycle of giving us samples of the whole Bible.

So it wasn’t a writer or preacher’s reaction to our current situation, when we seem to have devolved into a culture of belligerence with anonymous bullying on social media and road rage racers and intolerance of differences of any kind — shouted loud.

As our parish Deacon Fernando Ona said in the Sept. 17 homily: “Unfortunately, today forgiveness is in short supply.”

We Catholics have our own sense of entitlement. For the small contingent who regularly avail themselves of the sacrament of reconciliation, aka confession, don’t tell me anyone anticipates that the priest will say, “No, you’re not forgiven.” Do we even have a sense of sinfulness in our thoughts, words, actions? That’s why so many avoid the tense — terrifying? — prospect of going in to accuse themselves of breaking God’s laws. We don’t think we need to.

We’re part of a whole culture of people who excuse ourselves just about anything. How often do any of us confront ourselves for lying, dodging commitments, badmouthing people in our lives? Give myself a pass for words or attitude or actions that hurt a family member, a loved one or a coworker? Decide it was the other guy’s fault that I did what I did or said what I said? Definitely never put yourself in the other guy’s sandals when anyone fumbles the ball, makes a dumb decision, says something stupid, is not up to the job he holds.

Day of Atonement

Actually, there is some serious confessing, apologizing and atonement going on this month. Jewish congregations throughout the world have been celebrating the holiest days of their liturgical calendar. Sunday, Sept. 24, was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Observant Jews spent the entire day in a string of five congregational services of penitential prayers, songs, scriptural readings and memorials for the dead. After a meal on the evening before, they follow Old Testament instruction to fast from food, drink and sex until the seasonal celebration ends at dusk. Orthodox Jews observe bans against working, bathing, using cosmetics and other restrictions, the goal being to set aside material concerns and comforts that would distract from intentional focus on spiritual and penitential reflection.

Yom Kippur was the end of the High Holy Days which began with Rosh Hashanah, known as the Jewish New Year. That first day of an autumn month on the Hebrew lunar calendar, is far from the secular concept of New Year’s day as party time. It is the beginning of 10 days of self-reflection and atonement.

According to tradition, Yom Kippur began centuries ago, after Moses led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. The people fell back into their nasty old habits, making a golden calf to worship. It happened while Moses was on a mountain talking with God and receiving his commandments which began with “You shall have no false gods before me.” After they atoned for worshipping a false god, God forgave their sins.

Jewish tradition says that God judges all creatures during the 10 days and will forgive the sins of those who sincerely show repentance by good behavior and good deeds.

But never mind ancient atonement, facing up to sins and making amends is very much a 21st century thing for observant Jews. Some people make charitable donations or do volunteer work during the period. Even the least observant will take part, reflect on past misdeeds and attend some part of the services — much like the Christians who only make it to church on Christmas and Easter.

It is a time to apologize to friends and family for past offenses or failures, and to forgive others, because both admitting sins and forgiving others for theirs signify God’s relationship with humanity. Face-to-face apologies must be uncomfortable, downright painful, don’t you think?

To spend hours in an intense service is difficult enough; remember the olden days enduring three hours on Good Friday, or lasting through the whole Passion of Jesus on Palm Sunday. What wimps we have become.

I tried the Yom Kippur endurance test back in the day when covering religion for a daily newspaper. I had a Jewish friend as guide and translator since it was all in Hebrew. But our whispered conversation became a distraction for others, and I dropped out after a few hours. I wrote about it, but came to realize that I was missing the deep ties everyone there had, the memories and traditions of their lifetime.

I thought I would love participating in something that Jesus, his family, his followers would have done. But for me it was mostly an endurance test. I failed similarly when I tried to experience and write about a Zen Buddhist group meditation.

This train of thought made me flip to the Confiteor at the beginning of Mass. We never ever recite it; do you do that in your parish?

“I confess to Almighty God and to you my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned; in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do. Through my fault … my most grievous fault.”

It is painful indeed to confess to not measuring up to your best intentions. But I sure wish and pray that every person in a responsible position would face up to it.

I pray for the people who are lamenting there was no superhero, feeling they were cheated or abandoned. Please forgive those who could not be a hero or a savior.

Everyone in the mix, no matter how high a title, is only human and was not on a mission of destruction.

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”