"Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times? Jesus answered, 'I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.'"
Thirteen years ago our country suffered a great injustice, an act which cost us much --- first and foremost thousands of innocent lives --- people of every age, race, and creed struck down while simply going about their daily business, and of course also the brave men and women who raced selflessly to their aid. But many of us also lost something else of great value --- our peace of mind --- many of us, for maybe the very first time, felt a little less secure, a little less safe, a little less certain about the future.
People had done us wrong, and somebody had to pay.
Initially there was a tremendous amount of anger, sorrow, and disbelief. How could this have happened? Who's responsible? How can we make sure that this doesn't happen again? So, justifiably we set out as a nation to answer those questions --- first, to find and bring to justice those behind the atrocities, but also to take necessary steps to thwart any future attacks by those who would like to do us harm. It's hard to find fault with striving to achieve those ends.
As a nation we were (and still are, I believe) united behind those goals. Yet, it seems that we are in a very different place thirteen years later --- and I don't mean in a good way. Where there could have been healing, there seems to still be open wounds. Where there could have been an easing of some of the deep-seated anger there seems to be even a greater desire to lash out. Where there could have been a greater understanding between peoples there seems to be greater division. Where there could have been steps made on the road to forgiveness there seems to be an even tighter hold on grudges and past hurts.
From my experience, in talking to countless numbers of people, it sure seems as if many of us are even more negatively affected by the events of 9/11 thirteen years later than we were on the day it happened. Instead of struggling to move forward, many of us have allowed ourselves to be dragged back. Instead of rising up out of our trials, we?ve allowed ourselves to remain crushed beneath the weight of that cross.
At the core of that healing is forgiveness --- not the easy kind, such as when somebody says something that hurts your feelings. No, I'm talking about the tough kind, the forgiveness we are called to give to others when we least want to, when we've been hurt badly, deeply, profoundly. And we do so not primarily for practical reasons, but simply because we acknowledge and are grateful for the infinite mercy and forgiveness God offers each of us.
Sacred Scripture tells us. A master forgives the debt of a servant, who then refuses to forgive the debt of one of his own servants. The master then withdraws his offer to forgive the debt, instead forcing the man to be handed over to torturers (yes, that's what it says) until he pays it back. The reading ends with, "So will my heavenly Father do to you, unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart."
Strong words --- and that should tell us something. I'm always struck by the fact that many of us Christians extol the truths and blessings of the Christian faith, considering it to be the ?best? and yet have the most difficulty embracing the very things that are at the heart of Christianity, the things that in a certain sense make us somewhat different and unique compared to many other faiths.
We Catholics identify ourselves with selfless and unconditional love, with compassion for the poor and the outcasts of this world, we detach ourselves from material things, we embrace radical mercy and forgiveness --- these are the hallmarks of what it means to be a follower of the Lord, what it means to be a faithful Christian. And yet, these are precisely the things that cause us the most difficulty, the things we seem most reluctant to do, the life many of us are simply not willing to live. When I measure myself against that standard, I fall far short.
Our unwillingness to truly forgive, our reluctance to begin allowing our hearts to heal, our resistance to letting go of the hurts and grudges, our clinging to the desire for revenge and the need to get even are all forms of a certain kind of slavery, a bondage not "forged" from our outside, but forged within. In the words from the Book of Sirach, "Wrath and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight."
This unwillingness to forgive takes on a life of its own, spilling into so many areas of our lives, often developing into a kind of "spiritual ugliness" which manifests itself in so many harmful attitudes.
Ten years after the events of that day I'm hearing things from the mouths of Christians and seeing actions from my brothers and sisters in the Lord that I find simply appalling, things that on the surface at least, seem to be a betrayal of who we are called to be.
Justified hurt and anger has grown into something else altogether. In many ways, we're starting to look more and more like the very things we hate.
Extending this kind of radical forgiveness is one of the most difficult things we will ever be called to do. It takes a loving and generous heart. It takes a deep sense of our own need for God's mercy and forgiveness. It takes a desire to not just believe certain things but to actually strive to pattern our lives after Jesus. And this sort of forgiveness is unconditional --- no matter how much we would like it to be different ---- it doesn't depend on anything done or not done by those who have wronged us.
"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do."
Of course, for those who lost loved ones that day, working toward forgiving their enemies is incredibly difficult, more than most of us can imagine. And it will probably be a process that lasts a lifetime. And that's okay. God certainly knows and understands your pain, but for all of us, whether 9/11 hit close to home or far away, the time to begin that journey is now --- not tomorrow, or next year, or after certain conditions have been met. There's no reason to postpone the healing that is truly possible, the rising each of us can experience once we make room in our hearts by ridding ourselves of all that stands in God's way.
Can each of us today, right now, begin to let go of some of the anger and resentment, and not allow it to keep us from being all that God wants us to be?
We can look around the world and see so many places where past wrongs continue to breed hatred and contempt. And we look at many of these places and wonder why they continue to hold grudges after so many years. "Why can't they look forward and not back?" -we might think to ourselves. Let?s pledge this day to not let that be us five, ten, or twenty years from now.
I know that ten years is not a long time given what we suffered as a nation (and given what our men and women in uniform continue to suffer). And we don't have to expect to make that tough journey in one fell swoop. We don't have to forget what happened! We don't have to do it all at once. Rather, let's each take a baby step today --- one small step in the right direction --- and take another tomorrow, and then another, and then another.
But deacon I hear all that you are saying, BUT, somebody has to pay? Well, that may very well be true.
But let's also never forget that somebody has already paid. Let's allow the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus empower us to share that same mercy and forgiveness with others, no matter how difficult it may be. Baby steps --- each and every day.... we might just be surprised where we end up.