Tag Archives: forgiveness

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Political Apologetics

We’ve now got our very own “caught on tape making insane homophobic slurs” political scandal up here in the Great White North. In this case, the offending comments in question were made in 1991, and have only now come to light because a video was left behind in the headquarters of Saskatchwan’s official opposition, into which the NDP have just recently moved. The speakers on the tape are all still involved in politics, and have in fact moved up in the world rather substantially.

Conservative MP Tom Lukiwski has issued an apology for the statements – CBC has video as well as commentary. What interests me is that it seems the spin that most (or at least many) commenters are latching on to is “Haven’t you ever said something you regret? Let it go”. Within the first five comments there right now, I see:

There are 154 comments on tihs story as I type. I wonder how many there would be if everyone who had said something that they regret in the last 16 years removed there comment. At least a lot of people recognize that saying something stupid is something that happens to a lot of people.

and

i’m not sure why something said 16 yrs ago should reflect a persons position on ANYTHING today… lets be honest, we ALL evolve in our thinking and understanding on a variety of issues pretty much every day

So already (after two days) we’ve hit the tired narrative of “the poor, put upon straight white guy who you crazy left-wing nutjobs just won’t stop hounding“. I should note that while I have seen near-constant calls to give the poor guy the benefit of the doubt, to not let his precious career be ruined over something as trite as dividing the world into quality guys like him as against those disease-ridden f*gg*ts, I have seen absolutely no evaluation of his position or record on GLBT rights over the past 16 years used to back up this benefit of the doubt that we’re supposed to be giving him. Now, granted, I haven’t looked that hard, but it strikes me that before leaping to the conclusion that because it was 1991 and he had a bad moustache back then, he can’t possibly hold the same bad beliefs and we should therefore accept his remorse at face value, we should maybe get some facts to back up the claim that he’s cleaned up his brain to match his face and his (public) rhetoric.

Well, conveniently, Lukiwski’s been a federal MP since 2004, which means that he was sitting in parliament when Bill C-38, redefining marriage as “the lawful union of two persons to the exclusion of all others” (ie. eliminating references to “one man and one woman”) was passed in 2005. And the “Campaign Life Coalition” has ever-so-kindly (if a little revealingly) published on their website in easily accessible fashion a breakdown of how each MP voted on that very relevant gay rights bill. And three short years ago, our friend Tom fell into the “nay” camp on that one, so either his evolution has been more recent, or we’re all just supposed to be glad he no longer makes dirty fingernail references. On camera.

Of course I’ve said and done things I regret. And sometimes I’ve apologized for them, though admittedly, sometimes only after being exposed or at risk of exposure anyway. Sometimes I didn’t even manage to do that for years afterwards. The thing about apology and forgiveness, though, as I’ve written about before, is for it to be sincere, it can’t really be coming from a place of expectation. If I’m apologizing just for the sake of keeping my job, scoring (or avoiding losing) political points, or even hanging on to my relationship, I don’t really mean the apology. If I’m apologizing with no evidence of actual change, if my apology really is just all about me, me, me on every level, then why the fuck should I be forgiven?

These “apologies” have become a standard part of the political script, and I know we all know they’re bullshit. I know that, in this script, now that we’ve already skipped to the part where we feel sorry for the put-upon victim of the PC gestapo, the next lines have something to do with dismissing those of us who are unsatisfied with this soliloquy with statements like “WHAT MORE DO YOU PEOPLE WANT???”

Well, for starters, an apology that’s an actual apology. Evidence of change. The merest *hint* that he’s more sorry for the actual words than regretful that he left that goddamn tape where those goddamn socialists might find it sixteen years later. And if I’m starting onto the really wishful thinking, how about people running my government who demonstrate serious support for anti-oppression work, human rights legislation and equality? A media that refuses to forget stuff like this from our elected officials until there’s real evidence that there’s reason to forgive? A general public who doesn’t buy into the standard party line handed to them by the mighty white boys who want to stay in power?

Oh, and a pony.

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Forgiveness vs. Being a Doormat (Part 2)

Part 1, here.

tanaudel, in comments to my post on the “doormat” side of this equation, summarizes nicely a lot of what the difference really is:

It seems to be far less about being a doormat and far more about being strong and gracious.

She describes this as something that can only happen once the wrong has been acknowledged by the erroneous party, once forgiveness has been requested. I disagree with that for the principle reason that I think that granting forgiveness is about the opposite of being a doormat: being forgiving is about me. It’s about healing myself.

One close friend of mine talks about the concept of “resentment” as being “unresolved emotion” that keeps being “re-sent” around your body and mind. It circles, grows, festers, continues to hurt or damage you over and over and over again. Whether it’s been requested or not, I need to escape those feelings if I’m ever going to move forward. That’s where the strength and the grace come in–I can’t have peace from the feelings until I do it. And I can’t let my ability to find peace depend on having the request come from the people who have harmed me, especially knowing that some of the people who have done the most harm will never be capable of acknowledging it.

I’ve learned a lot about forgiveness in having to ask others for it, for pretty big reasons. When I did that, I had to remind myself over and over that regardless of how it was received, I was doing it so that I could be freed from the sense of guilt and shame that was entrapping me at the time. And regardless of how it was received, I was. Which sort of drove the point home for me that the forgiveness wasn’t really coming from my actions or from the actions of those from whom I needed forgiveness. The strength and grace came from elsewhere. In the same way, my forgiving others–especially if they haven’t asked for it or if they’re people I haven’t seen in years and will never see again–has absolutely no impact on them. I feel like it would be arrogant to pretend I had any power to grant them forgiveness or grace, as if I have access to some special spiritual source of energy that I can transfer onto them. I don’t believe that when it comes from clergy and I’m not going to believe it when it comes from me. But forgiving others–letting go, accepting, refusing to stay trapped in and defined by the past or by actions that were out of my control, deciding to be different–saves me. And that didn’t come from me, either.

I have real pain and legitimate reasons for anger in my life. I’ve been seriously hurt and seriously damaged. I say that not because it earns me anything, but because I struggle to write things like this without coming off like I’m moralizing or telling someone else how to deal with their very legitimate anger. I find that some who are inclined to preach forgiveness are not very understanding about the magnitude of some of these injuries, nor of the fact that above all else, forgiveness just takes time. I was certainly angry for a damn long time, and went through a long period of being destructive because of it. What I need in my life now is knowledge that there is a way out of that, and for that way out to exist and remain accessible independent of the actions or feelings of any other human being. To re-adopt bloggy lingo for a second, YMMV.

Another friend I have gets really upset, because she thinks I’m letting people continue to hurt me out of a sense that I need to forgive. I’ve had a couple of people recently who have said or done pretty hurtful things, but I can see exactly where the damage is coming from based on whatever baggage they have, and I want to let it go because of that. It’s not about me. If I’m going to be capable of having loving relationships of any kind (and there is a very heavy post on that topic that’s been building itself in my head for several weeks now), I can’t let those things re-send. Her point is essentially that sometimes, by thinking that way, I’m letting these actions and these people continue to hurt me, and I’m not forcing them to take ownership of their behaviour. I’m certainly not saying that being damaged makes it okay to do hurtful things to others or, on a much larger scale, to perpetuate abuse cycles, nor do I want to put myself in a position to have the same hurts happening to me over and over again, because that would be very much the doormat mentality. But for the sake of my own strength and grace, I have to forgive. I just do.

Not ignore the wrong, not forget the wrong, but also not wait for and depend upon the other to acknowledge it–acknowledge it myself, put it in perspective, decide how to stop the re-sending, and move forward. I’m absolutely terrible at certain aspects of this process most of the time. But if I couldn’t do any of it, I think I would lock myself in my apartment and never come out, literally or virtually.

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Forgiveness vs. Being a Doormat (Part 1)

Forgiveness is one of the most important concepts in Christianity, and to my mind, one of the most misunderstood. I’ve mentioned before that my church service features a number of “lay” preachers (ie. non-clergy), which means that we get a somewhat different perspective on a lot of things. A few months ago, a close friend of mine preached on social justice and included the statement that Jesus does, in fact, want us to be doormats.

I was bothered at the time and I’m bothered now by that terminology. My friend used the point that Christ allowed himself to be humiliated, beaten and crucified as evidence to support this statement, which he wanted to issue as counterpoint to Christians who justify their resentment or anger at others by saying that “God doesn’t want me to be a doormat”. I told him at the time that the statement he used is one that I frequently hear from women who are in the process of extricating themselves from abusive relationships, and that it’s an extremely important phase of asserting oneself, requiring constant strength in the face of a lot of people questioning and doubting and pushing you back. The church has too frequently been a source of that pushback, and while I know this friend and this church well enough to know that they would never say anything like that, I feel like some people in the progressive church community feel that we’ve done enough to counter those messages, that everyone understands that we don’t really feel that way. Which is essentially wishful thinking on our part, partially a genuine wish to get beyond that hateful stuff onto something far more positive, partially a tendency to bury our heads in the sand and forget the truly hateful things that are still said and done in the name of our faith. It’s preaching to the in-group that already understands that, pushing us higher, but as I told my friend at the time, he has no idea when the day might come that a new woman in the process of getting the strength to leave might walk in to our church, and he has no idea when someone we’ve known a long time might start finding the strength to speak about ongoing abuse using cryptic terms designed to test the water of how she’ll be received.

We are called to forgive. Forgiveness, for me, has been a process of being raised beyond the hurt and anger that was trapping me. One of my friends has a good description of the word ‘resentment’ as ‘unresolved emotion’, emotion that gets ‘sent’ through you over and over, cycling and festering and growing and continuing to make you feel it. Forgiveness breaks that.

My friend (the preaching one) was, to some extent, referring to the theory of non-violent resistance and “turning the other cheek”, which involves, in part, allowing your oppressors to abuse you while you refuse to respond in kind. It represents a radical misunderstanding of the concept to refer to this as “being a doormat”, because contrary to popular perception, non-violent resistance is not a passive act. It is resistance. The point is not just that you and your God and your conscience know that you’re the “better” party, the point is to draw attention to the dynamics of oppression and control, to gain the support of previously neutral parties. You have to counter the message that your oppressed group has earned violent treatment, that the dominant power needs to use violence in order to keep them under control for their own sake or in retaliation for violence that they started. It is a public demonstration of how power and control work, especially since refusing to react makes the oppressor realize he is losing control, he can no longer break you, you will no longer lay down and submit quietly, and he raises the level of violence accordingly.

It is a declaration of the fact that, while you may not be able to stop him from abusing you, you can choose not to be reduced by it. It’s a refusal to be a doormat. A “doormat” is stomped on, damaged and dirtied by being used. Christ was the opposite. Christ was raised by it, created something larger out of it, took the damage that was being done to him and used it to repair. There’s more to it than that, and the concept of martyrdom needs to be evaluated itself, but the semantics of doormatting vs. resistance are pretty significant to me.

Forgiveness brings another layer into the question, which is why there exists a Part 2 to come, on some day in the near future when it feels like emerging from my brain.