I missed commenting on Barry’s recent post that reflected so deeply on forgiveness-we got to 50 comments so fast, so I am opening a new thread.
Over the last few days I have been reading Barry’s post and the comments as they arise and I will admit I have cried many times, sat in silence many times, and prayed many times. The stories and thoughts that have been shared are deeply sacred to me and I am humbled to have read them. I have been thinking of Henri Nouwen and his book The Wounded Healer which I read many moons ago and how it was the first book that welcomed me into my life-long quest to learn empathy. I am reminded of the grieving people I had the chance to host and hear this past year and how every story of family and death reminded me that everywhere I go—the frozen yogurt place, Target, the grocery store, church, etc.—I am surrounded by people who are most likely carrying something, a weight, a memory, a loss, a burden beyond my comprehending and that the call to kindness and a tenderness of heart never ends. I never cease to be stunned by the depth of cruelty that humans can embody and inflict, and conversely by the depth of resilience that can be expressed in the face and aftermath of cruelty.
Forgiveness is a mystery to me. Sure, I can read about it, study it, dig into scripture, read memoirs, define it, and yes, all those things will help me understand how and why forgiveness has been expressed by others, but in my own life forgiveness (both the receiving of it and the giving of it) remain a mystery and always hold a bit of the miraculous. As a pastor, forgiveness is always balanced with confession as peace is always balanced with justice. I’ve only been involved in restorative justice in a cursory way that involved non-violent juvenile offenders and the goal there was to help the teenager see the greater impact his/her choices made on the broader community. Overall this tack has been successful, although I’ve often wondered how the process relates to the still forming frontal lobes of teenagers.
I feel like I could write and write, but I’ll close again by saying thank you to everyone who has shared here and that you remind me to keep my eyes open and be a witness to those experiencing any level of brokenness in their relationships and to remember that being a witness will change in each situation—sometimes I can intervene (like for a child) but for my fellow adults witness means simply being present and trying to create safe space for them to define how they want to respond, honoring that choice in the moment, and remembering that those choices may change and fluctuate over time.
For further discussion I have often pondered the work of Dr. Ira Byrock who wrote The Four Things That Matter Most a book that inspired many hospices, included the one where I served, in a core care planning tasks of helping individuals express four (and we expanded it to five) key things a person can express before death, often called “end of life closure:”
1) Please forgive me.
2) I forgive you.
3) Thank you.
4) I love you.
5) Goodbye.
As you can imagine, the form and tenor of each phrase is shaped by countless particulars of history, ability and willingness and the living of each expresses a depth of character, hope, and truth that never ceases to fascinate me. However, the previous comment thread reminded me that these phrases always need a context of reality, truth-telling, and definition of terms. I find that having an interdisciplinary team offering analysis and tools to create space for individuals to explore these expressions on their own terms helpful, but I realize that in this day and age, a blog becomes an on-line interdisciplinary team of both challenge and hope. It feels as though public presence has shifted and that the ability of witness has both shifted and become more available but just as difficult.
Categories: Aging, Disability, Death, Dying, General
Thank you, Amy, for opening up another thread on this Post. I thought there was a restriction as to how many Comments were allowed per commenter. Was I wrong about this?
As a victim/survivor of incest, I’m still struggling after decades to come to grips with all this. I had stuffed so far away, I thought it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter to anyone I was living with. It didn’t matter to the priest I tried to get help from, except to yell at a 12-year-old to ‘stop it’. It didn’t matter … so, how could I ‘matter’.
But, matter it did. It leaked out through every pore of me. It prohibited me from having a decent relationship, from having a family, from being the me that could have been.
So, I’m told I should forgive. I’m attempting that, but the rage is still simmering.
Where were Ann’s parents in all of this? Were they blind to their 16-year-old daughter, 16, co-dependent on Connor. Were they unaware of all these arguments? I can’t begin to imagine the grief these parents have. It’s not for me to delve into their lives; but, there’s something a bit off about all this.
Cut-to-the-chase, I’m happy that La Lubu spoke up. I’m happy she shared, about what stuff like that does to us. I need her voice to speak for me. I wish she had been there to help me.
Thanks, La Lubu.
Teresa, my personal advice for what it’s worth would be to stop trying to forgive. You need to be angry and you have every right to be angry. Maybe later you will want to forgive, but don’t push it.
Focus on yourself instead. Figure out how to make yourself happy. Work on whatever problems you need to like nightmares and flashbacks or fear or relationship.
“It prohibited me from having a decent relationship, from having a family, from being the me that could have been.”
It is my personal, unscientific belief that one of the things that prevents people from good relationships is NOT getting mad as hell in a situation like this. The anger needs to be directed at the abuser so it won’t be directed at other people or inwards at you.
I think some people have it backwards – they think that if you forgive, the nightmares or whatever will go away. I think that if you can get rid of the nightmares, etc., you are more likely to feel forgiveness.
Thank you for sharing Teresa-much appreciated. Your story reminds me of the Speak Outs I have attended where the act of listening and creating safe sacred space for any survivor to speak their truth is so important. As someone who is not carrying the memory of abuse, it was vitally important for me to go, and be present, just listen, and somehow say with my being: I see you, I care, you matter, your story matter, I grieve that whatever has happened has happened, and I won’t continue to abuse you by trying to tell you how you should live with it; how preposterous of me. I find that as a pastor, forgiveness is only healing when it arises out of deep and trusted conversation and not used as a way to dismiss or be a band-aid.
In terms of the comment limit-I realize that in our new civility policy we’ve lifted that expectation but I see that it’s still here about the comment section. We will be removing that requirement.
Thanks for opening this new thread, Amy Zietlow.
One thing I wanted to add to my thoughts from before. I think one reason that some people push victims of abuse to forgive is that they (the people who want the victim to forgive) feel guilty. Perhaps they did see some sign of the abuse. Perhaps they should have done something. Perhaps they had no way of knowing, but they wish they had and had done something. So they just don’t want the effects to be that bad.
In some cases, they might not realize how much the survivor is hurting. Survivors are often good at hiding vulnerability, for obvious, good reasons.
I’m not against forgiveness. It often helps people, but I think it needs to come at the end of a process that starts with anger. And it should never be pushed when someone has been the victim of abuse.
There are people who are amazing in their ability to forgive and I admire that – how did someone like MLK manage to love the people who wouldn’t let his daughter go to the amusement park? What does it mean to be a John Lewis?
Thank you, Teresa.
I want to point out something fannie said from the previous thread:
She also mentioned anger as a survival skill for women who have been victimized. See, one thing that people who have not been victims of abuse, rape or incest don’t often get is how much silence is involved; how victimized persons are required to maintain silence first from their abusers, and next from other persons in order to “maintain the peace” (whose peace?). We have already spent so much time denying what has happened to us and feeling deep shame for the actions that other people chose. The culture at large demands our silence for the comfort of others. And it demands our forgiveness, too. I think Diana hit the nail on the head with the guilt of bystanders.
I think another common bone of contention is the “good guy” thing—the false equivalency of actions (“we all make mistakes” or “we all fall short of the glory” or “none of us are perfect”). Abuse, rape and incest aren’t like forgetting to take out the trash, or borrowing money without paying someone back. These are crimes of violence, and the impact is especially intense when committed by a person or persons whom one is supposed to be able to trust. It is even more damaging when one can’t or doesn’t receive assistance from yet others that one is supposed to be able to trust. Victims of these crimes get a multiple whammy of pain and vulnerability—not just the crime itself, but the isolation of it, the constant gaslight messaging of “are you sure that’s what happened?” or “but you know s/he didn’t really mean it.”
Teresa, forgiveness is an option, but it is not necessary. You are still a good person if you don’t forgive your abuser. You have the right to be angry, and the right to acknowledge, hold, and even express your anger (as long as you don’t harm others). Anger doesn’t have to be a permanent part of your reaction to your abuse; if you no longer need it, you can let it go. But again, you don’t have to.
For me, time has pushed this experience to the recesses of my mind. Unless I have a conversation like this one, or witness domestic violence (in person or in art), I really don’t think about it anymore. But I’ve never lost access to that root-level of rage; the same rage that is responsible for my survival. It has been helpful to me a few other times in the past as well; I experience it as protective.
I like this post, Amy, thanks for writing it. I think you acknowledge very well the complexities of applying nice, noble-sounding platitudes about forgiveness to people’s real life situations.
A note on the comment thread in Barry’s post on why I said I thought it wasn’t really appropriate for people to “just” make cryptic “observations” about people’s “personalities” based upon their contributions to this conversation.
One, when someone referenced (but didn’t cite) “empirical data” showing that people who were less prone to forgiving were more likely to be angry, neurotic, etc, I felt myself closing down to this conversation. I felt the impulse to share with everyone my personal Big Acts of Forgiveness (that I actually would prefer to keep private) so people wouldn’t judge me as angry, neurotic, and unhappy. That reaction speaks to a concern that I think several others are feeling about implied social and institutional pressures for victims of violence to forgive- which I think can add a second layer of trauma to a victim.
Like, not only is a person victimized, they better react properly and appear sufficiently forgiving, because that is the noble thing to do and it will make you happier and people won’t draw negative conclusions about you!
Secondly, I would add that it’s easy for any of us, myself included, to utter platitudes on a blog about these lofty ideals we have about forgiveness or to say we might hypothetically act a certain way, but it is much more difficult to apply them to complex real-life situations. I’m just skeptical that approaching the conversation in a detached, generalized way reveals much truth.
For, while I personally see a lot of value in some of the Buddhist teachings (echoed by Rev. King) on forgiveness, I am a little more critical of these teachings now that I’ve been more involved in violence prevention and non-violence communities and conversations.
Relatedly, Amy, have you read the book Amish Grace? A few years ago, I read the book and attended a panel discussion on it and the commentary was similar to some of the conversation going on here. I’ve always meant to write a review on it, and maybe I will soon! I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on the book too
About the empirical data – It might well be that people who forgave were happier. I would raise some questions, though.
Did the people who forgave have things happen to them that were less horrible than the people who couldn’t forgive?
Did the people who forgave have things happen after the offense that made forgiveness easier – things like someone admitting what they did, someone being sorry, or someone being punished in some way?
Did the people who forgave have more supportive families and communities or a way to express their anger and pain?
Did the people who forgave feel safer?
In other words, there could be other factors that are correlated both with having fewer PTSD symptoms and with being more forgiving.
Also, I think the study referred to had something to do with the violence in Ireland. Reconciliation between groups of people in a war-like situation is different from the situation of an individual survivor of abuse.
Forgiveness should not be confused with denial. It is perfectly normal to have feelings of anger, etc against someone who has committed a crime against you (or yours). The point is not to get stuck in the “reaction process” but to be able to evolve and move forward in your response to tragedy/adversity. The Grosmaires did NOT pardon Conner, and say that he can NEVER pay them back for taking their daughter’s life. They simply say that they must forgive him so they do not go to prison with him (within their own heads). In addition, the very perceptive comment is made that without their anger/ostracizing, Conner can not hide in the reaction to his act, but is left one LESS barrier in terms of dealing with it. Incredibly perceptive. It’s hard to know how the adults felt about the relationship, both the Grosmaires work and Ann was their last child at home, who knows how much she hid from them, and how easy it might have been given the circumstances of everyday living.
Except if the boy’s mother hadn’t forgiven his father may the he wouldn’t have grown into an abuser. And if the girl hadn’t forgiven him she wouldn’t be dead.
Diane,
I think you raise some really good questions about the empirical research, and make a good point about whether research in one context of violence can be aptly applied to other contexts of violence.
Some of the research I’ve read on domestic and intimate partner violence has actually found that abusers sometimes interpret forgiveness as tolerance of abuse and might help abusers rationalize their abusive behavior.
I remember another study finding that forgiveness was correlated with a domestic violence survivor returning to an abusive partner.
So, I’m just not sure general statements can be made about the Healing Power Of Forgiveness For All People. It’s more complicated than that, especially if some people in a given society are socially conditioned to be self-sacrificial and subservient. I think I’d leave it to the individual to decide, perhaps working with a certified counselor, whether or not forgiveness is part of their healing path.
Related reading:
“Forgiveness for Intimate Partner Violence” (PDF)
“Women, Abuse, and Forgiveness”
Theresa:
Yeah. I was sexually abused as a child. I feel like I have forgiven my abuser… although apparently I’ve been doing it all wrong and lying to myself about it and making the world a worse place, so all I can tell you is that whatever it is that I have done does not magically include “no rage”. No rage was, I have found, unrealistic. Reduced rage is not-so-bad. I have found at least the thought that I can forgive (because it’s a not like a one time event, I have to do it again and again) is a tool for when the rage does come…and it does.
Fannie:
Well, my experience of this thread and the other is that I have not reacted properly nor appeared sufficiently unforgiving and I am in denial or I’ve knuckled under to social pressure. Of course, no one has said that explicitly, but that is the tone. I’m guessing that you don’t mean any of this as microaggressions but that’s how I am experiencing them. Like La Lubu, I do not believe I made an unworthy choice. For example:
Diane:
I find this question dismissive and offensive. “No” dismisses the pain of others and “Yes” dismisses your own pain. Moreover, if I (a male) answered the question either way, I would be subjected to some spectacularly sexist BS from one side or the other and probably both (to judge from past experience). This game of ranking horrors is not, in my experience, all that useful EXCEPT to minimize the pain of someone else.
No, No, Yes (but it didn’t really help).
Ha!
From what? From him? No. From me? Yes. From dismissive people? No but I am working on forgiving them, too. It may not make me any safer, but it does have a nice defiant taste to it.
Hernan, I did not mean to make you feel that you are not supposed to forgive. I really do believe that this is something where different things work for different people. What I am most opposed to is, ironically, people being told that they should or should not forgive. Forgiving works for many people and it is obviously helpful for you.
Thank you all for you kind, incisive comments. You’ve given me a lot of consolation for where I’m at, right now.
I find, for myself, that I’m easily triggered by well-meaning folks who say the easy slogans, platitudes, whatever. I feel it’s incredibly dismissive. Unless one has been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt; perhaps, the best thing for all of us is simply to ‘be there’ with one another. Listen with our hearts, not our heads, hold one another’s hand, and walk the walk with us.
Thanks again.
BTW, thank you, Amy for letting me know about the comment policy revision.
hernan i am sorry if made it sound like you were wrong. i only mean that this approach is wrong when one attempts to apply it to other people or otherwise ascribe a superior moral value to it. i thank you for sharing yourpersonal experience, indeed found it very moving and even convincing when shared as .piece of yourself, rather than a universal prescriptionas in your original post.
caveat: I would say it would be wrong to interfere with the criminal justice system and advocate on behalf of the abuser in the name of forgiveness.
Diane, I really relate to your theory about guilt. it works the other way too- there are certain people in my life I can not forgive (for events in no way comparable to violence thank god), and I know I will not be able to forgive them until I can forgive myself.
Regarding the influence of Christianity, certainly Christianity is not the only system of thought that emphasize forgiveness. The article itself, although it is heavily influenced by Christianity, also talks about Buddhism. Nevertheless, no other belief system is as instrumental as Christianity in shaping American values and culture, which is why I did not include them.
I did not grow up in a Christian society until adulthood and I did not encounter the forgiveness dynamic.
I too was an abuse victim as a small child. There was/is no particular anger or ideas of forgiveness. When I think of my abuser, it’s with distaste and a certain satisfaction at his misfortunes. But it broke me seriously. Therapy in my mid 20′s made me functional and time has allowed me to construct a life that satisfies me. However, it is a much circumscribed life. I liken it to being in a bad accident that shattered a limb. You work build work arounds, accept limits, make the best of what’s left. It is what it is.
Everybody recovers from trauma in their own way and to different degrees. But somehow this discussion has become sidetracked into a discussion of how victim’s recover when the comparable victim here is never going to recover, she’s dead. And I’m sorry but her willingness to forgive her abuser, to play Belle to his Beast killed her. The sideshow her parents created out of this seems creepy to me. The sentence reduction in particular feels like a betrayal. It’s only possible because the victim is conveniently dead. Unlike me Hernan and Teresa she doesn’t have any more choices. For her parents to champion the man Ann believed would change if she just loved him enough is tawdry.
OTOH. You can’t betray the dead, the dead don’t care. And she is their dead not mine.
@Mont D Law – “And I’m sorry but her willingness to forgive her abuser, to play Belle to his Beast killed her.”
So I do have some shoulds about forgiveness. You should not forgive someone when you are still in danger.
Forgiving someone should not mean putting yourself or anyone else (like your kids) in danger.
Forgiving someone should not mean trying to fix them or solve their problems.
And the courts should not set sentences for violent crimes based on whether or not a victim or their family forgives someone.
Hernan, I was very specific in using “I” language to discuss my experience and how I felt about it, and did not proscribe my method as the only valid method of reaching peace. I only seek to have non-forgiveness get the same general cultural respect as forgiveness. I’m tired of being bluntly told that I am an immoral person for not forgiving my abuser, and that my non-forgiveness is just as harmful and immoral as his original abuse (“why, you’re just as bad as he is!”). People who choose to forgive, and who publically discuss their forgiveness, and not often subject to being told how immoral they are, what a bad/hateful person they are, or “well, now I can see why what happened to you happened—it’s because of your attitude!” (or “negative energy” or “past lives” if you’re dealing with a new-agey person). That’s all I’m looking for—the room to be able to say “no, I don’t forgive” publically without being denigrated for it or told I’m a co-abuser. I just want it to be seen as a valid way of healing too.
Because here’s the thing: different forms of trauma have different cultural narratives surrounding them. Where I live, the rape or molestation of boys is universally condemned. Most people believe it deserves the death penalty. People who are against the death penalty believe that it is a crime that deserves no less than life in prison. It is not a crime that is spoken of without demonstrations of anger—people have a growl in their voice, clench their teeth and fists. The rape or molestation of girls gets the same treatment up until a girl starts showing secondary sexual characteristics, where her treatment starts to segue into that of any other woman rape victim (getting blamed for wearing the wrong clothes, looking too good/sexy, leading the rapist on sexually, being in the wrong area, not doing enough to protect herself and thus being partially to blame, etc.).
It’s ugly, oppressive, and frankly emotionally traumatic to not only have a crime perpetrated against you, but to have your surrounding community—even your family—not recognize it as a crime. Or in fact, claim that you brought on what happened to you. Domestic violence is one of those crimes. There are all kinds of negative cultural tropes about women who get hit by their husbands. There are still plenty of cultural messages about husbands being the head of the household and having the right to discipline their wives. Where I live, the “private family matter” trope is still endemic, and moreso for people of my specific cultural background. It all adds up to not having any support—one of the hallmarks of domestic violence is isolation.
I know that is where a lot of my anger comes from—the recognition that my community-at-large doesn’t recognize that I didn’t deserve what happened to me. That the community-at-large doesn’t think being hit constitutes “real” abuse—I just got “slapped around every now and then”, and that is thought of as anywhere from normal to a good thing—brings more passion to the bedroom! (“fight hard, , —- hard”). My ex-husband never felt sorry or guilty for hitting me nor for any of his emotional abuse; rather, he felt fully justified in his abusive acts and blamed me for it—if only I had been a good wife and obeyed him, he never would have had to scream at me, call me names, spit on me, or strike me. (he did not follow the pattern of apology in the circle of domestic violence) And in my community, any man who describes his violence as a loss of temper, “losing it”, etc.—-is forgiven and is expected to be forgiven. No matter how often it happens. No matter how much in reality it is deliberate and calculated (ever notice how all those abusers with “anger management problems” have specific targets for their abuse?).
What bothers me about the particular case under discussion is how much the violence within the relationship was glossed over, and the role of forgiveness in extending and escalating the violence. Ann forgave Conor literally all the way into the grave. Forgiveness has an incredibly toxic narrative within domestic violence—it is literally translated as “it’s ok if you hit me.” From the article, we know that Conor hit Ann on several occasions prior to him murdering her. We know there were even more occasions of him demonstrating irrational rages at her. We know that he had a pattern of escalating violence. And further, we know that he learned these lessons at home—his father Michael feels guilty for teaching his son how to express anger as abusive rage.
“Forgiveness” isn’t just about healing in the aftermath. In the context of domestic violence, “forgiveness” consists of several steps along the path of escalating violence. Forgiveness is about teaching victims how to take more and harder abuse. It’s about learning how to be a punching bag.
Context matters. I talked about my experience because it was strikingly similar to that of the article. I lucked out. Ann didn’t. Trauma doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It has all kinds of cultural narratives attached depending on the what, who, and how. Those cultural narratives are a huge part of why Ann is dead. I want those narratives dead.
All of the people posting on this thread are incredibly brave and inspiring. It’s a lot to take in.
Thank you, everyone, for these comments.
All of the people posting on this thread are incredibly brave and inspiring. It’s a lot to take in.
Seconded.
@Mont, Ann’s ‘willingness to forgive her abuser’ did not kill her. Conor killed her. You are imposing a lot of assumptions on their relationship – assumptions which are particularly ugly in light of how abusers escalate their violence when their victims resist or try to leave.
I am hesitant to say that Ann’s parents ‘forgave’ Conor. They didn’t absolve him of his crime, or blame their daughter, or suggest that his life should be without consequences. They offered him the possibility of redeeming himself.
Re: “empirical data.” Are we using MLA, AP, or Chicago for citations?
In all seriousness, forgiveness studies are easy to find with the use of Bing. Or you could be real traditional and just google it. I was trying to make a pretty broad point that forgiveness is usually a good thing. Obviously, there are exceptions, especially when forgiveness itself is poorly understood and/or poorly implemented. If “you’re doing it wrong,” you’re not going to get optimal results. For instance, Mythago is hesitant to say Ann’s parents truly forgave Conor because the parents didn’t absolve him, or blame their daughter, or suggest a life w/o consequences. Again, I’m not sure what Mythago is suggesting forgiveness is, but it looks similar to the platitude “forgive and forget” which is a radically unhelpful (and possibly dangerous) notion and a departure from the traditional (at least) Christian idea of forgiveness.
Re: whether this conversation reveals personalities. Of course it does. Is someone suggesting that it doesn’t? When Fannie cuts and pastes my remarks uncharitably it looks like I’m suggesting something really terrible about different folks, but I’m not too worried about how she reconstructs and deconstructs my arguments. Tis life. If you really want to know what I think this conversation reveals about some folks’ personalities (or ideologies, I was thinking broadly about “personality”), see this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/School_of_Resentment in light of this quote, “To punish the oppressors of humanity is clemency; to forgive them is barbarity.” – Robespierre, 1794.
Finally, I thought this article (which you can get by googling “When forgiveness isn’t a virtue”) is a decent prism through which we might view forgiveness and accountability. I quibble with the article in some respects, but I always do!
I personally don’t think I know about anybody’s personality (as in character traits) from this discussion, although some people were kind enough to share a bit more of the details about their history.
Would you in a nutshell describe what personality traits you attribute to those on either side of the debate?
I am unfamiliar with the term or concept of “School of Resentment”, so I followed the wikipedia link. There, I learned that it refers to a form of literary criticism whereby it is recommended that inclusion of women (of any race) or men of color in the western canon be done for political purposes rather than merit. In other words, it appears to be a fancy way of claiming that someone has an ax to grind without considering their proposal.
I am at a loss as to how this concept applies to this post and this thread. Perhaps bregalad would care to explain.
Where is the evidence that Ann forgave Conner for violence within their relationship? Because the relationship continued? That is a false assumption. What is more apparent is that their relationship was dysfunctional, and unfortunately, fatally so. In addition, it was also obviously immature, but they had no monopoly on either of those franchises, many, many people exist in “functioning” relationships that are dysfunctional/immature to some degree, look around (and unfortunately, many of these people are parents and are “imprinting” their children with these behaviours – as Conner’s own father rues). Obviously though, not all of them end as this one did.
on the contrary I saw Ann’s continuing the relationship and protecting Conor, preventing him from any consequences (that may have arisen from telling her parents) as pretty good evidence if not of forgiveness, that at least of attempts at forgiveness (not sure if there is really a difference).
What’s more, as I understood La Lubu’s point, is that Ann was surrounded in an atmosphere that placed huge, huge emphasis on forgiveness. In that atmosphere Ann would have had great difficulty calling Conor to account.
I think her parents near immediate response to the event makes that clear. That was nearly there first instinct. To hug Michael and and to imagine Ann saying forgive him. What conditioning must Ann have undergone while he was alive?
Regarding Michael, though, I think there is insufficient evidence to indicate that he was an abuser. I don’t think it is unusual for parents to look back and nitpick their actions wondering how they could have caused this. I have a relative who died in a car accident by falling asleep at the wheel. his mother could not forgive herself for allowing him to drive in an exhausted state, etc, etc. I read about another mother tearing herself apart when her son was murdered. “why did I allow him to go there alone?” and so forth.
I think this is a normal, common response, as long as the person gets over this in a reasonable time period. I find Michaels response more natural than Ann’s parents who appeared to have done no self searching at all.
We do however know that there was a time when Conor didn’t get along wiith his own parents. And that abuse is a learned behavior. Still I just don’t think there is enough evidence to say conclusively that Michael was an abuser. It’s a possibility to bring up, but it remains speculation.
Again, I was speaking about personality in the broad sense. Karen used the word and I piggybacked on it. Obviously, that wasn’t helpful. (Thanks alot, Karen!
) I should have used word “ideology.”
I believe opposition to forgiveness is more telling than non-forgiveness itself, especially when forgiveness is experienced as beneficial for the vast majority of people, and is, I would controversially argue, good for EVERYBODY when done right. Opposition to forgiveness strongly indicates a preference for a hermeneutic of suspicion which often (though not always; the exceptions are telling) denies the right to subject persons and their core beliefs and identities to the claims of any greater truth.
So you are saying that people who oppose forgiveness tend to have a more pluralistic view that expects the accomodation of multiple perspectives? How flattering, although I personally don’t make a direct connection. I think all of us have expressed strong opinions at one time on other issues that really didn’t accomodate the other.
This thread has been extremely helpful to me; not the least, for connecting (albeit virtually) with others on this important topic of forgiveness. I thought by saying ‘I forgive you’; the deal was done: I had done the ‘right’ thing for me, and my abuser. Somehow, I had the naive notion that forgiveness was the magic talisman that would make things all better.
Things didn’t get better, however. My psychic trauma wasn’t magically healed. The rage simmered and broke out at unexpected times, in unexpected ways. So, what Hernan says below is spot-on:
So, I don’t understand what this means:
Bregalad:
What does done right mean, Bregalad? Am I trespassing on you by asking have you been the victim of violence?
Sorry, Bregalad, but I told you I was trouble.
“Ideology” is a much better word with in context (I think anyway – until I’m persuaded otherwise). I’m just an observer here, taking it all in – work in progress.
Mont D. Law:
Ah, yes, Mont D., life is very much circumscribed for me. Heck, I didn’t even know what I didn’t know. So, too soon old, too late smart … choices are gone, options aren’t in play, and dreams are shattered.
But, I’d add, Mont D., et.al., that a shattered limb often gains some sympathy from society, a shattered psyche not so much. So, yes, it is what it is.
Interesting piece of word salad there, Bregalad. It isn’t any clearer than your other statement.
I’ll be direct: rape and domestic violence are not partisan political issues upon which reasonable people can disagree. Rape and domestic violence are egregious violations of human rights. Rapists and abusers are dangerous persons with a high predilection for repeating those actions. Whatever ideology they may hold to rationalize those actions is immaterial to the fact that the actions themselves are harmful enough to warrant losing their freedom—losing the right to participate in free society with the rest of us.
If that is an “ideological” statement rather than one of practicality and public safety, I suggest the spring shot out of your moral compass sometime back. Go find it.
@Bregaland – “Opposition to forgiveness strongly indicates a preference for a hermeneutic of suspicion which often (though not always; the exceptions are telling) denies the right to subject persons and their core beliefs and identities to the claims of any greater truth.”
I’m not sure what you mean here, particularly in the second half of the sentence. However, I think it is quite possible that sometimes people don’t want to forgive because they think (or are suspicious) that it would be dangerous to do so. If you are a victim of violence, that can be a sensible, logical response.
I don’t have a lot of studies at my fingertips, but I have seen it be something that works for some people and not for others.
So my response to studies that show forgiveness is helpful for many people or even most is just that most people is not the same thing as everyone. If you were looking for a treatment for a disease and it worked 60% of the time, you would want to figure out which people it worked for, not force everyone to take it.
Another difficulty with studies is that people don’t agree about what forgiveness means. How do they operationally define it in a study? What exactly does it include?
What exactly are you recommending people to do when you say they should forgive or will benefit from it?
I think that in terms of helping other people, it’s best to step back and not assume you know what is best for them and push them to do something that might not help or might even hurt them. Listen to the people who have been in treatment and have felt that being pushed to forgive was unhelpful or harmful.
Bregalad:
“Re: “empirical data.” Are we using MLA, AP, or Chicago for citations? In all seriousness, forgiveness studies are easy to find with the use of Bing.”
Whichever format you prefer. There’s even a handy-dandy “link” button that facilitates the citing of empirical research. That’s the method I prefer in blog comments, as one of my prior comments linking to two studies on forgiveness demonstrates.
You made broad claims about what the research shows on forgiveness. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for people to maybe want to see which studies you’re specifically referring to.
As for this comment:
“Re: whether this conversation reveals personalities. Of course it does. Is someone suggesting that it doesn’t? When Fannie cuts and pastes my remarks uncharitably it looks like I’m suggesting something really terrible about different folks, but I’m not too worried about how she reconstructs and deconstructs my arguments. Tis life. If you really want to know what I think this conversation reveals about some folks’ personalities (or ideologies, I was thinking broadly about “personality”), see this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/School_of_Resentment in light of this quote, “To punish the oppressors of humanity is clemency; to forgive them is barbarity.” – Robespierre, 1794.”
I quoted your own words and asked for clarification.
And now, I would ask for further clarification, because how the Wikipedia article you are citing is in any way germane to this conversation or to people’s “personalities” or “ideologies” is not a self-evident fact.
I will also add that when people are sharing really painful personal experiences, and commenter-”observers” are kind of using those experiences to suggest that those experiences maybe define the person… that seems to be getting really problematically personal.
As an “observer” I think the context of Bregalad’s and my comment are hard to pin down because the discussion of “forgiveness” is not only vague in general it’s also without specific context. I’m certainly not saying “forgive the sinner AND the sin”…I don’t think Bregalad is either unless I’m misunderstanding him. I’m coming from the perspective of someone who thinks forgiving the sinner sets you free but learning from it is priceless…never EVER forgive the sin. The sin needs to be learned from in order to prevent it from EVER being accepted or normalized. I’m someone who believes in a more simple/spiritual context of right and wrong. Cliche and simple I know, I’m very aware, by lived experience, choice and design…by “ideology” (personality?)
Sorry, folks, I’m right in the middle of a project, so this’ll be quick. You all have great questions though.
I did want to respond to this.
(I will also add that when people are sharing really painful personal experiences, and commenter-”observers” are kind of using those experiences to suggest that those experiences maybe define the person… that seems to be getting really problematically personal.)
Again, it’s opposition to forgiveness, not non-forgiveness itself, that I’m responding to. I never used people’s experiences to suggest anything about anybody. Baseless accusations from you are kinda a bummer. I mean, you’re totally harshing my buzz.
Also, to respond to Teresa, no, I’ve never been a victim of violence. But I am a victim of discrimination which cost me thousands of dollars ($50k +) and several years of my life. I usually don’t like to think of myself in those terms, however. My mother has to remind me I’m a victim or I forget. She’s not wrong — but it’s not the whole story.
More later.
@Karen,
What does “as an observer” mean? Does it mean you haven’t been a victim of violent creme (and, so-to-speak, haven’t been there, done that, bought the t-shirt) or something else?
In reading through this thread, there seems to be a marked difference between a set of commenters, which I’m failing to understand. I can only attribute it to different experiences. Perhaps, I’m wrong.
Karen, in trying to forgive, there can be a real blurring of the sinner from the sin. A minimizing of “we’re all capable of that behavior”, so let’s move on.
Just my 2 cents..
Teresa,
I’m not going to put qualifies on wrongs done. Violent vs. psychological harms for example. Have you been a follower on this blog for very long? If you have you will see that I am a co-author on the “My Daddy’s Name is Donor” report. I’m not going to go into my story but I will say that forgiveness and lessons learned is why I’m here and why I’ve gotten myself involved with this bigger discussion in the first place. I AM an observer because I listen, think and comment. I don’t claim to have the answers and I don’t believe I know better than anyone else. I observe and share with an occasional strong opinion – with emotion.
Teresa, how do you see the difference between commenters?
Bregalad,
“Baseless accusations from you are kinda a bummer. I mean, you’re totally harshing my buzz.”
Your commentary isn’t that clear, as I think people’s questions to you are demonstrating. I’ve asked you to clarify multiple times now. You say you’re busy, but you make time to tell me what a buzzkill I am.
I contend that this subject matter of abuse, death, and forgiveness is a buzzkill, but it’s one we voluntarily are participating in because it’s in some way rewarding and these are conversations the people here want to have. I further contend that it comes off as kind of tone deaf to not only behave as you’ve been behaving here but to then center your inability to get a “buzz” from this conversation as a Pressing Concern.
Karen,
“As an ‘observer’ I think the context of Bregalad’s and my comment are hard to pin down because the discussion of ‘forgiveness’ is not only vague in general it’s also without specific context.”
But, in this particular conversation, it’s actually gotten really specific and context-driven. Actually. So, it’s difficult not to interpret your vague “observations” as though you are insinuating things about people’s “personalities” and “ideologies” based upon their experiences with forgiveness.
To jog your memory, following Barry’s post in which people were sharing their experiences and thoughts on forgiveness, you said:
“Very interesting to see how different commenters handle responses on this issue. This says quite a lot about the personalities behind these debates on FSB. Very interesting.”
Can you elaborate on what you meant by that?
You and Bregalad both seem to be hesitant to clarify or back yourselves up, instead insinuating that I’ve been unfair to you both without actually explaining what you meant.
So, really, what did you mean when you said that? That you think people’s stated experiences “says a lot” about their personalities looks to me like you guys are sitting there profiling people.
ki sarita:
To me, it seemed that the difference is ‘experiential’. Walking the talk, as I put it: not just a theoretical, but a boots on the ground issue, allied with those that deal with those affected by violence.
However, I’ve just been corrected by Karen. So, my perception is wrong.
I’m wondering if we need to make a distinction between forgiveness as a religious practice and forgiveness as a part of healing from trauma.
As a part of healing from trauma, we can talk about the evidence and the experience of survivors. Forgiveness helps some people be happier and healthier. It doesn’t help other people and pushing them to forgive only hurts them. Particularly for survivors of trauma, it can seem like another effort to minimize what they went through or how bad the abuser was (and sometimes I think communities or families are in fact wanting to push forgiveness partly to make their own lives easier).
As a religious practice, I think you do it because you are supposed to and for spiritual growth. I don’t think we are going to be able to prove whether or not it works; it’s something that you should do or not do based on your religion.
I would add, though, that I really like Amy Z’s approach to all this of just listening and being with people. I suspect that for some survivors religious organizations pushing them to forgive will turn them off to religion.
Fannie,
“I’m someone who believes in a more simple/spiritual context of right and wrong. Cliche and simple I know, I’m very aware, by lived experience, choice and design…by “ideology” (personality?)”
Teresa,
Thank you.
I think you’ve got people with differing experiences on both sides of the debate, for example La Lubu and Hernan see things rather differently. I have not been a victim of violence that I recall but I see things a lot like La Lubu.
However I am a former juvenile abuser of younger children. That perception of my behavior only occured to me very very recently. Not sure how and if that affects my role in this discussion.
A quick note – I use the term “survivor” not victim and I think a lot of the people who have talked about having been abused in the past do not sound like they see themselves as victims. They are survivors and all props to them.
So I want to address one other thing that is somewhat tangential, but I think relevant to the question of forgiveness.
All of us have experienced people doing bad or unfair things to us. I’m sorry, that’s not the same thing as having been abused. People on this list have mentioned being abused as children, sexual abuse, being shot and nearly killed, and domestic violence that included attempted murder.
That kind of trauma leaves people with lasting issues like nightmares, flashbacks, phobias, anger, not trusting anyone, sexual problems, intimacy problems – and that’s the lesser stuff. You really can’t compare trying to forgive in a situation like that to trying to forgive the other wrongs people do.
To paraphrase you Bregelad, you’re saying that forgiveness is perceived as being beneficial to a majority of people, and that ‘forgiveness done right’ is good for all.
You are right that this is a controversial claim, just as all truth claims are. I agree with other commenters that you need to elaborate on what “forgiveness done right” looks like, because I think that is where the root of the disagreement is. It always comes back to definitions…
While we’re defining things, it might also be helpful to better understand what “not forgiving as a conscious moral choice” means as well. Specifically, what is the character of non-forgiveness?
For me, I understand responses to trauma to be complex systems in which you have various emotions, physical reactions, and states of being to move through responding to the violence you’ve experienced. Every individual goes through them differently and at their own pace. Just in the same way people grieve differently, similarly we respond to trauma and violence. For some it may be relatively brief period, others may work through it for decades or the rest of their life. Nobody gets a gold star for reacting in particular ways – and no one should feel judged for how they react, as long as their reaction isn’t leading them to further destructive cycles. (this last sentence is why I think non-forgiveness should be clarified, I worry that it could be conflated with destructive emotions like revenge and hate, and I want to clarify so that we’re clear).
Most counselors will tell you that the end goal of trying to work through trauma is to come to a place of acceptance of what happened and what it means for the now. Acceptance, it is often assumed, is a spring board towards a new phase in one’s life. I tend to look at it as the difference between letting the act violence define one’s existence, and re-asserting agency in the way one defines oneself.
For some people getting to acceptance requires finality (closure) – and forgiveness can become a symbol of the closing of one chapter and the start of a new. It is a laying down of a burden (anger, resentment, hate, shame, self-doubt and guilt) that one realizes isn’t doing either you or the aggressor any good (here I mean ‘good’ in the sense of the aggressor’s summom bonum – which in the case of violent aggressors must include their experience of right justice and lawful retribution for the wrongs they’ve committed). Forgiveness should only be given when the survivor is ready, and when it is good for them.
Note that, in many cases, one’s anger and resentment may be righteous tools, not burdens needing to be laid down for healthy recovery – they may be one’s weapon of self defense in the face of continued aggression, and the hardships that accompany lack of support from one’s community and family. They may be used to draw attention to injustice and danger, and to sustain perseverance while going through hell. The danger is to not let hate and shame continue eating away inside in a way that ultimately becomes destructive to one’s being. For folks who haven’t experienced violence, the best thing you can do is be trustworthy and loving, because hate and shame cannot thrive in an environment with honesty and love, and a person who feels safe is more likely to seek help if they are struggling as a result of their experience.
Returning to my thought on acceptance and finality; for some people who have experienced trauma, they reach this finality in ways other than expressing forgiveness. They may instead reach acceptance through seeing justice done to their aggressor in a court sentencing hearing, or hearing an apology, or moving to a new town to gain closure through distance. What is important is that they reach a place where renewed growth and life can begin.
I found Karen’s comments helpful, in that she used terms specific to a certain religious conception of the world to describe her views on forgiveness. I think it highlights our different perspectives, as we don’t share that view. I don’t believe in sin; I don’t believe there is any supernatural influence on human choices to commit acts of evil. Human beings are responsible for what we do, good or bad. I don’t believe there is punishment or reward in an afterlife. I don’t understand the dichotomy between “sinner” and “sin” because I don’t understand or believe in the cosmological underpinnings those notions stem from. This isn’t something. I was raised with, so it holds no resonance for me.
But as was pointed out in the previous thread, “forgiveness” has several meanings in the dictionary. I would also like to suggest that there are two processes of forgiveness: the internal and the external. Forgiveness as an internal process is illustrated by Ann’s parents choosing to forgive Ann’s murderer. Forgiveness as an external process is illustrated by Ann’s parents advocating that their daughter’s murderer receive the minimum sentence. Forgiveness as an external process is illustrated by Ann accepting Conor’s “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again” and giving him a second chance after he hit her. And then a third chance. And a fourth. Mind you, I’m not blaming Ann. I did the same thing. When there is no room to say “no”, because not only your abuser, but everyone else around you won’t acknowledge your no, you….to paraphrase another thread, “suck it up”. Accept it as your lot in life. Hope that someday things will change.
This is the toxic cultural trope that I am opposed to. Doing forgiveness “right”, where I come from, isn’t primarily an internal process—it’s an external process whereby the offender receives his or her due second chance (yes, second chances are owed, as in “everyone deserves a second chance”), and this external process is heavily policed. Forgiveness isn’t accepted as forgiveness unless there is an element of external process (such as dropping the charges, or agreeing to attend social occasions of mutual friends where one’s abuser or rapist is present). Not offering it means doing forgiveness “wrong” and being lectured about sin and the state of one’s soul.
Briefly…
Fannie,
“Harshing my buzz” was a joke intended to lighten the mood and make fun of myself. I thought the marijuana terminology indicated that. I thought about “You’re harshing my buzz, maaan,” but I didn’t want to be accused of microaggression.
Perhaps we should take a step back and ignore each other for some time. Obviously, we don’t bring out the best in one another.
Matt,
You’re right (on so many issues!) that “forgiveness done right” is unclear. Unfortunately, making it crystal clear would require a HUGE post that would get into issues of sin, suffering, grace, accountability, and justice in addition to forgiveness. Fortunately, Schroeder did some of my work for me in his various responses to the original blogpost. His posts on the definition of forgiveness are instructive. Many of the folks here use the word “forgiveness” in a way that’s incongruent with his definition. I’d suggest going back to those posts to see what I mean when I use the word “forgiveness.”
La Lubu’s understanding of forgiveness, for instance, is so radically alien to Schroeder’s definition that I don’t know where to begin. La Lubu, where are you getting your definition? Are there serious proponents of that view of forgiveness?
La Luba, I don’t have absolute faith in those things either, I use those words because I am a hybrid (in more ways than one – figuratively and literally) between a spiritualist, humanist and not an absolute disbeliever in the Christian faith (because it’s the closest philosophy that works with my idea of right and wrong based on my observations and rational thought process).
Bregalad, I think it’s immaterial, in a way, as to wrapping this up as a definition of forgiveness. Definition’s be damned in many instances. It’s a cold, stark, look I’ve got it right deal.
It’s the living through violence, and coming to grips with the trauma, in an intimate way. Simply knowing a definition is hardly appropriate … living into it is. And, for some of us, it’s a repetitive cycle, as Hernan stated.
Imagine my surprise when I knew the definition of forgiveness, played by the rules, did all of it right … and, was left with rage and anger. In my little pea-brain, how could this be. It only deepened my isolation, my silence … because, somehow, I was still to blame.
Reading the last few paragraphs of the article on Connor and Ann, even Ann’s mother questioned whether she’d really forgiven. That’s a hard place to be.