(The Nationalist, 15 September 2000)
Recently, Pope John Paul II declared blessed the Irish Benedictine priest, Dom Columba Marmion. In his early days Marmion had been in Dublin diocese and worked for a time in Arran Quay parish, near the Four Courts.
Marmion described how, on one occasion, he had gone to the bedside of a dying man to help him prepare for death. In the course of conversation, it emerged that the old man, many years previously, had had a serious quarrel with another man. Marmion asked him if he had forgiven the other. The dying man replied heatedly that he had not forgiven him and never would.
Marmion tried to persuade him to change his mind, to look at things differently, and to let go of the burden of anger and resentment that weighed down on him. But the old man would have none of it. He said firmly, ‘If the gates of hell were opening in front of me this minute, I would not forgive him.’ And that was how he died.
What a way to die, with anger and bitterness on your lips! How foolish can a person be? Did the old man think he was a person of principle standing firm for what was right? Did he see attempts to dissuade him as something underhand, trying to undermine his resolve to stand firm for truth and justice?
To forgive a person does not mean trying to pretend that wrong was right; it does not mean trying to gloss things over and sweep them under the carpet, or trying to smother an issue with plámás or platitudes. Neither does it mean trying to pretend that we were not hurt or angered by the actions of the other person if in fact we were. It’s not a matter of pretending that the other person didn’t really mean it, if we are pretty sure they did. To do any of those things is – at best – to excuse, but it is not to forgive. Forgiveness is not something which is done at the expense of truth or justice.
Forgiveness begins by looking facts in the face, recognizing them for what they are and calling them by name. But it does not stop there. The one who forgives says in effect, ‘Yes, I was hurt (or angered) by what so-and-so did to me; I felt betrayed, humiliated, insulted. But, despite my feelings, I will still do what is for that person’s good, I will still treat him or her with respect, I wish them well, I will ask God in prayer to bless them, to give them all they need for health and happiness; I will ask God, too, to forgive them where my forgiveness is incomplete, and to forgive me also for my anger and resentment.’
To forgive frees ourselves first of all; it is an opening to life, to love and to freedom. It means being free from the burden of the past in order to live in the present and be open to the future. Forgiveness is an act of freedom; those who forgive do not allow themselves to be controlled by the evil that the other has done to them. They create a new relationship in which evil does not have the final say. Giving and for-giving go together. As the prayer of Saint Francis says: ‘It is in giving that we receive…’