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The Bishop's Journal
May 2000
They are two of the hardest words a human being can utter. "I'm
sorry." Plain and simple; unaccompanied by any attempt to justify or
explain.
In a special liturgy conducted at St. Peter's Basilica on March 12, 2000, Pope
John Paul II apologized for a series of specific sins committed by the church
in the past two thousand years. It was a rare and poignant liturgical action
that captivated the world's attention, claiming lead story status in newspaper
and television newscasts for the next several days. It was a profound moment
that forced many of us to reflect on the proper place of confession and
forgiveness in our lives.
First and foremost, John Paul reminded us of the necessity to make confession.
We are all well acquainted with the phrase, "confession is good for the
soul." While it is true people can become unhealthily focussed on our
sin, it is similarly true that we can be unhealthily focussed on our own
supposed righteousness! None of us is so righteous that we stand beyond the
need for God's gracious gift of forgiveness. None of us is so righteous as to
stand beyond the need to confess.
The same is true for us corporately as well as individually. The pope's act of
confession also reminded us that sin has a collective, as well as personal,
dimension. Governments, corporations and churches, indeed any institution, can
be guilty of sin. Indeed, because the roots of corporate sin are usually woven
deep within the cultural fabric of a particular group or institution, this
kind of sin is often much harder to identify and deal with. By making this
confession, not only on behalf of individual persons, but on behalf of his
church as a collective entity, John Paul challenged all institutions, both
sacred and secular, to assume a similar level of accountability and
responsibility.
Lastly, the pope reminded us that our confession must be made specific. This
was not a general confession. He was very specific, confessing sins against
Christian unity; sins against Jewish people; sins against other cultures; sins
against women; sins against human rights and sins committed in the service of
faith. It was quite a list.
In addition to making a general confession of our sins before God, we also
need to ask specific forgiveness from the person or persons whom we have
wronged. We need to demonstrate a willingness to change our hurtful behaviour
in a spirit of sincere humility and not merely for the sake of appearances.
That, of course, can only be judged by the one whose forgiveness we seek and
we shouldn't be surprised when, from time to time, our supposed confessions
aren't so quickly received with the sort of grateful response we might have
selfishly anticipated!
In her richly layered novel Fugitive Pieces, Anne Michaels tells a
parable wherein a highly respected rabbi is asked to speak to the congregation
of a neighbouring village. Wishing to have a few uninterrupted hours to
himself on the train, he disguises himself in the shabby clothes of a peasant.
Indeed, the disguise is so effective that he evokes disapproving stares and
whispered insults from the well-to-do passengers around him.
Later, when the rabbi arrives at his destination, he's met by the dignitaries
of the community who greet him with warmth and respect, tactfully ignoring his
appearance. Those who had ridiculed him on the train suddenly realize his
prominence and immediately beg his forgiveness. Surprisingly, the old man is
silent and does not respond to their pleas.
For months after, these good and pious citizens implore the rabbi to absolve
them. The rabbi remains silent. Finally, when almost an entire year has
passed, they come to the old man on the Day of Awe when it is written that
each man must forgive his fellow. But the rabbi still refuses to speak!
Exasperated, they finally raise their voices in frustration. How can a holy
man commit such a sin - to withhold forgiveness on this day of days?
Finally, the rabbi responds. "All this time you have been asking the
wrong man. You must ask the man on the train to forgive you."
Are there persons to whom you or I - or we - need to ask forgiveness? I
suspect that there are; on each count.
"I'm sorry." Big words. Hard words. Lifegiving words. Use them
often.
The Rev. Michael J. Pryse,
Bishop
