Forgiveness From The Heart

Scripture Reflection for the Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time (september 11, 2011)

Scripture Readings:
Sirach 27:30-28:9
Psalm 10
Romans 14:7-9
Matthew 18:21-35

While it may seem an unusual image for a liturgical book, one might consider the Roman Catholic Lectionary almost as a kind of sacred roulette wheel. I say that because, although the readings for Sunday Mass are mapped out in a 3 year cycle, there is little predictability what readings will coincide with a particular anniversary, national holiday, or somber memorial. Certain days in the Roman calendar have fixed readings, like the 25th of December (Christmas) and the 15th of August (The feast of the Assumption), and if those days fall on a Sunday, they pre-empt any readings scheduled for a given Sunday. Apart from those few major feasts that have a fixed day on our liturgical calendar, however, the intersection of some Sunday of the year with some personal, local or national calendar is a kind of sacred roll of the dice.

September 11, 2001 did not occur on a Sunday but a Tuesday; the following Sunday, September 16th was the 24th Sunday in ordinary time, cycle C. The gospel prescribed for that day was Luke's parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:1-32). In the aftermath of the attacks of 9/11 there was some anecdotal information that Roman Catholic clergy did not preach about the event because, as noted by one commentator, "it wasn't in the readings." In hindsight maybe it was too close to the event for preachers to recognize that God's love for all people is prodigal, and that no wayward son is unloved. That is not to say that God approves of the evil things we humans do - sometimes even in God's name. Nonetheless, God has never stopped loving any human being, and has never stopped inviting any of us into the divine embrace.

This Sunday's readings on this 10th anniversary of 9/11 offer another spin of that sacred roulette wheel. At first blush, these readings may seem more appropriate for this anniversary Sunday. The Wisdom of Sirach chides those who cling to wrath and anger that are hateful things. One wonders whether the prophet would put "shock and awe" in the same category. God's ancient word, rendered ever fresh in the encounter, announces "Forgive your neighbor's injustice." Notice, the Word does not suggest that we "forget our neighbor's injustice"; rather we are to recognize injustice, recognize those who - in Paul's image - live and die for themselves, recognize evil acts and expose them in the light of Christ. But identifying and revealing evil are not for the sake of "nourishing anger" or "cherishing wrath" as Sirach instructs. Rather, they are to lead to mercy, pardon and forgiveness. And that forgiveness, Matthew's Gospel insists, must be "from the heart."

How does one forgive from the heart, when the heart of one of our great cities was incinerated? How do we extend mercy when we have expended so much capital and the irreplaceable treasure of so many young lives in acts of war that many believe are justified? How do we embrace the gospel and still be patriotic Americans? How can we be in the image of the Divinity revealed in today's psalm (103) who feels wrath, but does not hold onto it forever; who chides us for our sins, but eventually relents? How do we know when it is time to give the wrath and vengeance anger and indignity away? Is this the year? Is this anniversary the time for that? And even if we decided it was time to be less like the wicked servant in the Gospel and more like the merciful Abba revealed in Jesus, how can we possibly achieve such generosity?

One glimpse of how we might answer such questions is revealed in the story of Phyllis Rodriguez who lost her son Greg in the attack on the World Trade Center.[1] As reported by various news media, Ms. Rodriguez's initial stance after this horror was a self-admitted inability to ever forgive those who had killed her child. That position began to change when she saw media reports of Aicha el-Wafi, the mother of Zacarias Moussaoui, who was convicted of playing a large role in the attacks. Ms. El-Wafi decided to come to the United States for her sons' trial. Rodriguez admitted, "When I saw Aicha in the media coming over when her son was indicted, I thought, 'what a brave woman, someday I want to meet her... when I'm stronger.'"

A few years later it was Ms. el-Wafi who inquired about meeting some of the families of the 9/11 victims. That was the beginning of one of the most unlikely of friendships between a Moroccan Muslim and a secular Jew, both mothers, both grieving for their sons: one dead, and one imprisoned with no chance of parole. And how did Ms. Rodriguez make that journey of forgiveness, and how did these women come to share a bond beyond vengeance and wrath? In an interview with the Forgiveness Project, Ms. Rodriguez said "When Greg was killed, I thought, 'I will never forgive the people who murdered my son,' but I have come to see forgiveness as more than a word; it's a context, a process. I don't forgive the act, but trying to understand why someone has acted in the way they have is part of the process of forgiving. Forgiveness is being able to accept another person for being human and fallible."

May the prodigal generosity of God, continue to reveal itself in every such journey from the brink of vengeance. And may the vision of Eucharistic Prayer II for Reconciliation be the true spirit fueling this solemn anniversary, as we pray: "In the midst of conflict and division we know it is you who turn our minds to thoughts to peace. Enemies begin to speak to one another; those who were estranged join hands in friendship; and nations seek the way of peace together."

[1] http://theforgivenessproject.com/stories/phyllis-rodriguez-aicha-el-wafi-usa/ (accessed 30 August 2011)

This reflection has originally been published at www.ctu.edu.
© Copyright 2011 Catholic Theological Union. All Rights Reserved.

Image: iStock