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Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Some people are constantly apologizing. I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry I’m in the way. I’m sorry I’m a mess. When asking forgiveness, I am admitting guilt or personal responsibility. So, if it wasn’t a choice, how is it my fault? I’m sorry the weather ruined your plans. I’m sorry life isn’t fair. I’m sorry you’re having a bad day. When that happens, it’s not a real apology. It’s just saying I feel bad but I can’t do much about it. And I can’t ever ask forgiveness for someone else’s offense. Now an admission of guilt is only genuine if the offending party acknowledges it, the person at fault. Tell your sister you’re sorry. I’m either owning up to what I’ve done, or I’m acknowledging her pain. Not the same thing. By asking forgiveness, I acknowledge the right of the offended party to be angry or disappointed. But anger and disappointment are natural human responses, not necessarily choices. And violence is never an appropriate response when a request for forgiveness is genuine.
Now asking forgiveness and acknowledging guilt carry consequences, like the loss of trust, the loss of privileges, and the diminishment of one’s standing. It’s never easy to ask forgiveness. When I do, I acknowledge my debt to another, a debt that is only repaid with great difficulty, if it can be repaid at all. I do know asking forgiveness might not get easier the older I get. But it gets easier the more practice I get. And if done intentionally and sincerely, the need potentially decreases over time as well. It could mean I’m learning. So, have you asked forgiveness lately?
On the other hand, granting forgiveness is perhaps even less easy. It means I acknowledge you have offended me. If when I apologize, the other person tells me to “fuggedaboudit!” it can mean that either I did nothing wrong or that the person I thought I offended was not offended at all even though I was willing to admit I did something wrong. My granting forgiveness acknowledges the offender is not perfect. But it also means I am willing to let this little bit of insight into human nature not get in the way of repairing the relationship, that this little stumbling block can be overcome, that there is hope for the future, that it is not the end of the world. Now for some who are offended, this may all be too much to swallow in one go. They may be willing to acknowledge the offender did something terrible, but they are not ready to shift gears and repair the breach. Perhaps, they just want the offender to stew in guilt or remorse for a time. So it turns into a power trip, a way of proclaiming their victimhood so to gloat or get a little sympathy, which is quite selfish. It’s a childish response to a request for forgiveness. And as long as I am unwilling to release the offender from my anger and resentment, as long as I am unwilling to repair the damaged friendship, there is no forgiveness. I only want to pin blame, to condemn, and to impose a verdict of guilt.
In cases when the offender will not admit responsibility and consequently, will not seek forgiveness, can I forgive anyway? I think forgiveness works both ways, to restore the offender and to heal the offended. Forgiveness releases the offender from the cross of blame and shame, and the offended from the cross of bitterness and rage.
To forgive as Jesus calls us to forgive in today’s gospel is to acknowledge our own indebtedness to God, a debt we can never ever repay. None of us can claim we have earned the right to exist. God’s gift of life to each of us is a free gift, nothing we have earned or deserved. That puts us in debt for our very existence, a debt we cannot ever repay, not even with our own lives. After this gift of life, God has also gifted us with loving and caring parents, grandparents, and families. For no merit of ours, we have received relatively good health, a good home, a good education, good values, and a promising future. Many have been blessed with a good marriage, a good career, a good family life, even a comfortable retirement. Our hard work might have contributed to these particular blessings, but only because we built on a foundation of undeserved blessings, blessings which will be impossible to repay. That accumulated debt is now several miles above our heads. And after all that, we were redeemed from the sin of our first parents through the grace of baptism, then from our own personal sins through the grace of sacramental reconciliation. Our debt to God is now simply beyond measure. And God makes no demands that we repay this debt. God only reminds us to extend to each other the kindness and compassion we have received from him.
In light of the events we pause to remember each year on September 11, the scripture readings this weekend are difficult to hear. They are the same readings the Sunday after that terrible day. How do we talk of forgiveness in the face of this great evil? We will never begin to know the immense loss that the families of the victims experienced. We will never know the emptiness they still feel. Any attempts to grasp that sorrow always falls short. It’s impossible to grasp first-hand the cross they bear.
But if we focus on our blessings instead of our losses, we might see that nothing we have lost, no matter how precious to us, was ever truly ours, but only lent to us, unmerited blessings from God’s compassionate heart. The loving people who surround us, who give us a glimpse of God’s face each day, are all expressions of God’s loving care for us whether we know it or not. The freedoms we enjoy are all blessings that show us God’s wisdom and mercy. Now God invites us to be generous to one another in the measure we have received from his generosity. Our abundance and prosperity are not inherently ours. Rather, we are only caretakers of the earth’s resources and of each other. Our talents and gifts are meant for the building of the human family and eventually the kingdom of God. So, we cannot justify selfishness or arrogance because we are nothing more than caretakers. While we are blessed through the beauty, skills, accomplishments, and achievements of others, so we are meant to share our blessings with one another. We owe God a debt we can never repay. How can we fail to be grateful for our blessings then expect God to forgive our transgressions?
Some years ago, a friend offered a reflection that has remained with me ever since. On behalf of us all, I thank you, Betty Holden. While attending a retreat in New York, she heard the retreat preacher speak of God’s love and our love for God in response. And as a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, he concluded that “my love for God is only as strong as my love for the person I like the least.” So, who do you like the least? Joseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler, Elon Musk, Jar Jar Binks, your high school bully, someone you haven’t spoken to in years, someone you see every day, the person you didn’t vote for? Right there is the true measure of your claim that you love God.
Rolo B Castillo © 2023