Читать книгу The Forgiveness Solution - Philip H. Friedman - Страница 33

“[Forgiving] your enemies … is crucial. It's one of the most important things. It can change one's life. To reduce hatred and other destructive emotions, you must develop the opposites—compassion and kindness…. Forgiveness allows you to be in touch with these positive emotions.”

—DALAI LAMA, The Wisdom of Forgiveness

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”

—MAHATMA GANDHI

EVERETT WORTHINGTON IS ONE of the most prolific researchers and writers in the field of forgiveness and generously gave me permission to use this powerful forgiveness story.

“I wish the youth who murdered Mama were here now.”

I pointed to a baseball bat. “I'd beat his brains out.”

It was late and very dark outside. What a New Year's Day. I could feel the hatred almost radiating from my face. Mike had just told Kathy and me what he had observed when he walked into Mama's house that morning—a frail, crumpled, lifeless, and abused body. The blood was spattered on the walls and two small pools of blood, one beneath her head and the other beneath her hips, were visible. The house was a complete shambles—broken mirrors, articles thrown everywhere, destruction all around. I was stunned. Numb. I could hardly take it in.

We recalled the struggles and the good times. I was reminded of being interviewed on a radio call-in show. At the end of the interview the host said, “I think we have time for one more call and I think you're going to like this.”

The soft, East Tennessee drawl of my mother came through the telephone to my ears.

“Sonny,” she said using my boyhood nickname, “I've been listening to your interview. You're a good boy, Sonny.” I was forty-eight. It was a wonderful, warm affirmation from a woman who had put so much into my life. Now I knew I would never hear such affirmations from her again.

When we arrived in Tennessee, the police could tell us little. “It looks like a burglary by some youth that went wrong. The youth probably did not know your mother was at home and she surprised them. She was struck three times by a crowbar,” said the police detective. “We're so sorry for your loss.”

Suddenly an irony struck me. Less than a month before, I had delivered to our publisher a book on forgiveness written by Mike McCullough, Steve Sandage, and myself called To Forgive Is Human. I couldn't help asking myself, Who did I write that book for? Was the book for other people? Did its lessons apply to me as well? My anger didn't like the answers.

Uncomfortably, I began to try to apply the five lessons (REACH) we had taught others about the difficult work of forgiveness. At the heart of forgiveness is a feeling of empathy for the person who has wronged a victim. Could I for a moment put my rage on hold and recall the hurt more objectively? Could I experience a sense of empathy for the youth who had murdered my mother? I knew I couldn't merely conjure up a feeling of empathy. Empathy develops out of vivid recall of the circumstances, but from the point of view of the wrongdoer instead of the person harmed.

So, I began to imagine what it must have been like for two youths to stand outside a suburban home and think about the perfect robbery they intended to commit. It was New Year's Eve. Dark house. No car in the driveway. They could be assured that no one would be back until after midnight.

Suddenly prickles of fear might have raced up his spine. “What are you doing in here?” my mother might have said, voice taut with outrage and fear. He probably wheeled around and thought, Oh no, I've been seen. This wasn't supposed to happen. This was supposed to be a perfect robbery. This old woman is going to put me in jail.

In the grasp of his own emotions, he probably struck out quickly with the crowbar still resting in his hand, striking her on the cheek. She spun as she fell back. He struck her across the back and shoulders. She rolled onto her back, and consumed with fear and anger he delivered the third blow to her temple.

He might have thought What have I done? “This was supposed to be a perfect robbery,” he might have whined plaintively to his buddy. “Now I've killed this old lady.” Frustration and anger replaced the shock and fear. He began to act out his rage. He assaulted her with a wine bottle. Then he began to throw objects. With the crowbar, he shattered the mirror above the bookcase—the mirror that had seen his shameful act. Every mirror in the house was shattered.

I could understand and even feel with the youth the horror of what he had done.

Follow-Up to the Story: Helping Oneself Heals Others

So, I began to talk about forgiveness at conventions. At one convention, one woman hung back. She said, “I am the mother of a youth who broke into a woman's house and murdered her when the robbery was discovered.” She looked so forlorn that my heart went out to her. She said “They hold my husband and me accountable for what our son did. We raised him as a Christian boy. But his crowd at school led him down a dark path.” I murmured an inadequate understanding. “Our friends have rejected us. Frankly, when you began to talk I expected more condemnation. I almost walked out. I've been pretty disillusioned with people.” She was close to tears. Bitterness was barely below the surface. “I think the forgiveness you demonstrated today may have turned my life around. When I heard you describe what the robbery might have been like from the point of view of the boy who committed the murder, I felt that it is possible that people might someday understand. My faith in humans is restored. I think I can begin to forgive the people who hurt me.”

Writing can be a very powerful way of opening channels within yourself for forgiveness. It can help you become clearer about what's blocking you and even help you identify who is unforgiven and why. Please get some paper and a pen or go to your computer, and let's begin.