kerravonsen | The Nature of Forgiveness (Reply)

Forgiveness is a tricky thing. It's tangled up with other things like reconciliation, repentance, and trust, but it is apart from them.

This musing is prompted in part by the following statement someone said to me: "I forgive, but I never excuse."

At first glance, that looks like a rather unforgiving attitude, but I can unpack it this much, knowing the person in question: that too many people confuse forgiving a wrong with excusing a wrong -- rationalising it so much that the wrong thing isn't "wrong" any more. Or, even worse, from the other end, demanding forgiveness while not repenting(*) of the wrong. It was that that bit that person repeatedly: working with Christians who repeatedly exploited her and demanded forgiveness because she was a Christian and therefore ought to forgive everyone.

((*) I'm using repenting in the sense of "turning away from"; that is, it isn't just feeling sorry for something, it's also undertaking not to do it again.)

Oddly enough though, the lesson I took from what I heard of her problems, was: "Forgive, but be wise enough not to trust those proven untrustworthy." Any more than you'd trust Vila to hold out under torture, but one wouldn't exactly consider it a betrayal if he didn't hold out, because one would be a fool to expect him to do something of which he's not capable. "He who trusts cannot be betrayed, only mistaken."

For a real-life example, there's a particular guy that I lent a fanzine and a CD to, and when I got them back they were crumpled and battered to a degree that astonished me. I forgave him, sure, but it would be very unwise to lend him something again, since he didn't seem to be capable of treating them with care, not until he changes his lifestyle.

The trick with this of course, is to be perceptive enough to see if the other person has since changed themselves or their lifestyle in a way which might enable them to be trustable in the area they couldn't be depended on before. This is very tricky because it's very easy to fall into the trap of assuming that people never change...

Another danger is that of making these mental lists of people's failings; "forgive and forget" isn't a saying for no reason. When Christ said to forgive someone not seven times but seventy times seven, I take that to mean, forgive each time as if that were the first time that wrong had to be forgiven; don't grit your teeth and add one to your aggravation-counter.

I've always linked forgiveness with understanding -- which may be perilously close to excusing, perhaps. Perhaps it's because I'm only human, but I find it easier to forgive someone if I can understand why they did something. It may be (as it often is) that the person wasn't actually being intentionally malicious, just thoughtless or clueless. (HANLON'S RAZOR: Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.) Is the fact that something is explained render it no longer wrong? I don't think so. An unintentional wrong is still a wrong; it can still be repented of, it can still be forgiven.

Another valuable lesson I've learnt in life about forgiveness is that it can be unilateral. There are two parts to reconciliation, but not necessarily forgiveness. Reconciliation requires both parties to come to the table, with the wrongee giving forgiveness, and the wronger both repenting and asking for forgiveness. But forgiveness itself can be undertaken on the part of the wrongee without the wronger even realising that they've done wrong. Too many people have conditional forgiveness: "I'll forgive you if you say you're sorry, and not before." But true forgiveness is unilateral; it only requires action on the part of the wrongee. For the forgiveness to bear full fruit, yes, both parties must participate, one to give, and one to receive; unilateral unconditional forgiveness is incomplete, but that's not enough reason for it not to be done.

What's unilateral forgiveness good for, then, if it doesn't lead to the wronger stopping their wrong? Well, it leads the wrongee away from bitterness. Bitterness is a poison, a cancer, and should be excised with due haste.