Forgiving on 9/11

Introduction

An apocalyptic event

Today is our first commemoration of 9/11 on a Sunday. 9/11 is a very bland expression for an utterly horrendous reality. That reality is nothing less than that apocalyptic event in which two 747’s as weapons of mass destruction smashed into the Twin Towers in Lower Manhattan bringing down not only mortar and bricks but 3,000 innocent human beings. The stark reality of 9/11 is nothing less than that apocalyptic event which caused a heap so mountainous that it took a ten-month operation working day and night to haul away 2,000,000 tons of debris containing 20,000 body parts. 9/11 is that event which suddenly changed absolutely everything for us, so that nothing is the same anymore. 9/11 is that event which ushered in an age of terrorism which now preoccupies us 24/7, consumes all our psychic and financial resources and robs us forever of a simple abiding peace which we used to take for granted. 9/11 is that event which, to the utter consternation of most religious people, was perpetrated in the very name of someone’s God.

None of those overtones or undertones is heard in the harmless expression 9/11. It’s important to remember and not forget that, as we commemorate that apocalyptic event for the first time on a Sunday.

Making sense out of forgiving

With these undertones and overtones of 9/11 sounding in our ears, we read the first scripture today from the Book of Sirach commanding us to, “Forgive your enemy’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.” (It’s practically a line out of the Our Father: ”Father, forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”) As we now memorialize 9/11, we wonder what in the world does it mean to forgive an enemy his injustice, especially if he’s not sorry? Bin Laden with his army of terrorists is not sorry. At this moment that king of terrorist is hiding in the mountainous terrain between Pakistan and Afghanistan and is planning a mother of all apocalyptic events that will equal and, he hopes, will exceed 9/11. What in the world does it mean to forgive such an enemy? What’s there to forgive? The Christian command to forgive can be a kind of muddled up affair which needs sorting out.

Making sense out of a parable

The gospel reading today is also about forgiving, and it, too, needs a little sorting out. A servant owed his master 10,000 talents” (That’s Jewish money worth about $10,000,000). When the poor guy went broke, his incredibly generous master forgave him the entire debt. Now this servant, in turn, had a fellow servant who owed him 100 denarii (That’s about $2,000). He, too, went broke and begged for a little time to pay his fellow servant back. It’s hard to believe, but the servant who has so much forgiven him couldn’t muster up enough generosity, if not to forgive him his meager debt, at least to give him more time to pay up. Instead he had the fellow thrown into prison until he could pay back the whole debt.

The plot thickens. The generous master who forgave his servant an enormous debt hears about how incredibly unforgiving his servant has been. In anger he turns him over to the torturers until he pays back his $10,000,000. The parable ends with Jesus promising, “So will my heavenly Father deal with you, unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart” ((Mt 18 21-35).

Give the parable a second reading and it presents a problem. It seems we have three terrorists on our hands. The first is the servant who had an enormous debt forgiven him but wouldn’t forgive a fellow servant his measly debt but had him thrown into prison. The second terrorist is the master himself who at first generously forgave the enormous debt of his servant but then became so enraged at his selfish servant that he had him handed over to torturers until he got back his $10,000,000. And the third terrorist, incredibile dictu, is God himself (!), who, the parable promises, will treat us in the very same cruel manner that the enraged master treated his selfish servant, unless we forgive our brother from our heart (Mt 18:35).

In a second reading, the parable falls flat on its face, as it makes everyone, even God, a terrorist. We wiggle out of the predicament by reminding ourselves that parables which are read literally limp. They should be read as a child reads them—with a first reading only. With a first reading only the parable simply says, “You, who have had so many mistakes and so many predicaments forgiven you, should, in turn, be capable of forgiving others.”

Making God terrorist

Making God a terrorist is a favorite pastime of extremely religious people. The extremists in Islam are good at that as they claim that 9/11 was the wrath of Allah visited upon the infidel West. The extremists in Christianity are also good at making God a terrorist. Pointing his finger at all the pagans and abortionists and feminists and gays and lesbians and A.C.L.U. people and the People for the American Way, Jerry Falwell claimed that their secularization of America and their immorality had angered God and brought on 9/11. At the end of the day, Jerry makes a terrorist out of God.

For Bernie Heeran God is, by no means, a terrorist. Bernie is a retired firefighter whose son Charlie worked at Cantor Fitzgerald in the World Trade Center and was killed on 9/11. In a documentary entitled Faith and Doubt at Ground Zero, he is quoted as saying, “At this stage, I have not questioned God. He had nothing to do with 9/11. God was fighting evil that day like he does every day.”

Religious extremists were again making God a terrorist in New Orleans. All last week there was a blaming game raging there. The head of FEMA, Michael Brown, the State of Louisiana and the Mayor of New Orleans were all being blamed for the poor response to Hurricane Katrina. Into the fray stepped Michael Marcavage, director of Repent America. Guess whom he blamed? He blamed the decadent people of New Orleans. In a statement last Wednesday, he pontificated like Jerry Falwell saying, “Although the loss of lives is deeply saddening, this act of God destroyed a wicked city.” Then referring to two blatant festivals he continues, “From ‘Girls Gone Wild’ to ‘Southern Decadence,’ New Orleans was a city that had its doors wide open to the public celebration of sin… May this act of God cause us all to think about what we tolerate in our city limits, and bring us trembling before the throne of Almighty God.” For Marcavage, Katrina was an act of God paying man back for his immorality. At the end of the day he, too, turns God into a terrorist before whom you tremble. Bernie Heeran would say to Mr. Marcavage, “God had nothing to do with Katrina. God was fighting evil that day like he does every day.”

Loving a neighbor: it’s fairly easy

Christians have two basic commandments: Thou shalt love thy neighbor (Lk 10: 27) and thou shalt forgive thy enemy (Lk 6: 27). The first commandment to love our neighbor is often easy enough and even pleasant. It resonates with the best that’s in us. It resonates with that yen in us human beings to become who we are: beings who are human. It’s a very fulfilling experience, when, as you are hurrying on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, you stop to pour the oil of compassion upon the wounds of a poor man waylaid by robbers or you stop to write a check for all those poor victims, humans and animals, waylaid by Katrina. It’s fairly easy. It’s even pleasant and rewarding to love a neighbor, especially one who’s in need.

My sister who is 82 years old lives in Alvin, Texas, 30 miles south of Houston, where a contingent of 500 refugees from New Orleans recently arrived. She is small, a bit bent over, still drives a car and wears a funny little hat which she knows everybody likes. It draws attention and elicits a variety of sweet remarks. Now she doesn’t like Wal-Mart because it drives little shops out of business. That little lady used to be in Merle Norman Cosmetics but was driven out by that big guy,Wal-Mart. Furthermore, she, too, has succumbed to the demonizing of Wal-Mart over its alleged employment practices and attitudes. Though she doesn’t like to shop there, she does every now and then.

The other day at the new Wal-Mart store in Alvin, a gentleman came up to her and asked whether she lived in Alvin. “I certainly do. Have been living here for fifty years.” Then he announced himself and his family as recent refugees from Hurricane Katrina and went off into a long litany of praise for the wonderful people of Alvin who had so generously received him and his family, and also into a long litany of praise for the demonized Wal-Mart which had so generously provided brand new clothing for his grand-daughter. The man also proudly announced that he came from a family of nine children. My sister did him one better. “I,” she proudly said, “married into a family of 14 children.” The encounter was climaxed when the gentleman asked whether he could give her a big hug. (Her hat was working!) She did him one better again: she reached up and gave him a big kiss. She went to the car, she told me, and there wept for joy over such a wonderful encounter. It’s fairly easy, it’s even pleasant and rewarding to love a neighbor, especially one who is in need.

Forgiving an enemy: it’s hard

But forgiving an enemy isn’t so easy or pleasant, even when the enemy says he’s sorry. It’s difficult to pretend that nothing has happened. It’s difficult to forget the past. But when an enemy say’s he’s sorry, he ceases to be an enemy, and then we must pay the duty of forgiving, even though it’s hard.

But when the enemy isn’t sorry, it’s almost impossible to make any sense out of our commandment to forgive him. Jesus says, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who mistreat you” (Lk 6: 27-28). This morning of 9/11 that commandment reads, “Love bin Laden, do good to bin Laden who hates you, bless bin Laden who curses you, and pray for bin Laden who has mistreated you, and who has even more in store for you!”

What in the world does it mean to forgive an enemy who isn’t sorry?

I think it means resolving not to seek revenge, not to pay him back, not to do to him what he has done to you. In a word, it means resolving not to turn yourself into the terrorist that he is and thereby lose your humanity. It means resolving to hold on to and safeguard your humanity.

A resolution to pay back good for bad

There is a movement afoot seeking congressional approval of a resolution concerning 9/11. It reads, “Be it resolved that U.S. Congress designates September 11 as an annually recognized day of voluntary service, charity and compassion.” How do you like that for paying back an enemy who caused such a heap of ruination that it took a ten-month operation working day and night to haul away 2 million tons of debris containing 20 thousand body parts, and who isn’t a bit sorry? How do you like that for forgiving such an enemy by refusing to become a terrorist like him?

Conclusion

At the end of the day, forgiving especially an enemy who isn’t sorry is not primarily for the sake of the enemy; it’s primarily for ourselves. We need it more than the enemy does. Martin Luther King once said that he was sticking with forgiveness and love because hate and revenge were too heavy a burden for him to bear. They are, indeed, too heavy a burden. Hate and revenge mire us down so that we can’t move on with our lives. They waste our energy on pay back instead of spending it on serving others. They turn our gaze upon our offended selves instead of upon the sufferings of humans and animals in New Orleans. Hate and revenge poison our human spirit with negativity, so that we can’t smell the roses or feast our eyes upon the riotous colors of autumn. Worse of all, hate and revenge will never win for us a kiss and a hug in a Wal-Mart store, but forgiveness and love will.