|
A Sorry State of Affairs
Understanding the power of an apology
hy should I apologize to the descendants of slaves, or
the holocaust, or the Northern Irish? I didn’t do it. It happened before I
was born. How can apologizing for things you didn’t do help anything? Is it
biblical? Can you back it up? Aren’t you just stirring up trouble?"
At the Office of Reconciliation Ministries (ORM) we get such questions
often. They are logical questions. They deserve an answer.
Consider this. The
police chief of a major American city, a leader in community reconciliation,
recently confessed to one of us a lapse in judgment. He had sat down at a
restaurant where the waiter serving him was Turkish. Suddenly, deeply buried
resentments inside the chief’s psyche rose to the surface. He proceeded to make
life miserable for the young waiter.
Why?
The chief was of Armenian descent.
Inside him were deep feelings he had heard around the family table concerning
the Armenian genocide, one of the 20th century’s most heinous crimes. "The Turks
have never apologized for that episode," the chief told one of us. "Still, that
was no excuse for my behavior toward that young man."
Events 100 years old came
hurtling out of the past as if they were wounds from yesterday.
"Land of the
Living Past"
Remember "ethnic cleansing"?
In the 1990s, millions of people in
the Balkans found themselves caught up in hatreds and resentments that went back
to squabbles and atrocities of the 1300s. One journalist called this area "the
land of the living past."
In writer William Faulkner’s words, "The past isn’t
dead. It isn’t even past."
Ancient hatreds and animosities still exist. The
trouble is already out there walking around. The dead hand of the past is not so
dead. People still living carry around bitter folk memories of wrongs inflicted
on their ancestors, wounds that have been passed on down. A phrase from Exodus
20:5 comes to mind: "the sins of the fathers to the third and fourth
generation."
Hatreds take on a life of their own—the Capulets and the Montagues
in "Romeo and Juliet;" the Hatfields and the McCoys in early America.
In Bosnia the hurt went marching down the generations.
In the face of deeply rooted hatreds, can a simple apology be of much help?
"Attitudes have a kind of inertia," wrote M. Scott Peck. "Once set in motion
they will keep going, even in the face of the evidence. To change an
attitude requires a considerable amount of work and suffering."
"Work and suffering." That’s the hard part. So where to begin? Who is
responsible for trying to break such cycles of hatred? The dead? Obviously
not. Who, then, will step into the breach, and how?
Sins of the Fathers?
Many counselors believe that an indispensable first step in shutting down
any cycle of hatred is to work toward an apology. "What—a simple apology?"
Wait. No apology is simple. That’s why it has to be "worked towards." It’s a
process. It requires emotional and spiritual commitment on the part of the
one offering it—and for the injured party to accept it. Which is to say that
neither mercy nor forgiveness are easy. On anyone’s part.
|