"He who is forgiven little,
loves little. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for
she loved much." (Luke 7:47)
Jesus did not say, "he who
sins much, loves much." Rather, seeking forgiveness is the essential
thing. Going through the experience of being forgiven leads to the capacity for
love. Love therefore, is the fruit of forgiveness and redemption. The woman in
sin washed Jesus' feet with her tears because she felt sorrow and remorse. They
were acts of love and penance that the righteous Pharisee, as Jesus pointed
out, did not show him.
Before repentance and penance,
however, sin always directly injures our capacity to love. By its definition,
sin is a turning away from love, who is God. Unrepented sin hardens the heart
and reduces its capacity for love. All it takes is a turning back -- a simple
movement of the will which is so hard at times -- to experience the inner
transformation from brokenness to wholeness. Repentance involves humility,
sorrow, and love for a greater good than oneself. It leads to self-knowledge
before God, and that knowledge leads to true love of self, others and God.
Forgiveness has been much on my
mind lately. It was the subject of last Sunday's gospel, appropriately because
of the remembrance of 9/11. We are called to forgive others, even those who
wish to destroy us.
Forgiveness, however, is not
passivity. We do not welcome into our homes unarmed the crazed serial killer in
order to offer him forgiveness, even as he aims his gun and fires... We are,
however, called as Christians to visit him in prison after he is caught in
order to help bring him to repentance. In other words, forgiving terrorists
does not mean letting them get away with murder.
I've heard many comments about a
seeming lack of forgiveness in Americans' joyous reactions to Osama bin Laden's
death. I’m sure there may have been some who rejoiced out of hardened hearts. However,
I am not ashamed to say that I rejoiced heartily when I heard the news, not
because of bloodlust or vengeance, but out of a very real relief that this
threat to our peace and security was eliminated.
I lived through the terror of 9/11
in Washington, DC. Once the plane exploded into the Pentagon, it was clear my
city was the next target. I ran from my office building at 701 Pennsylvania
Avenue – right between the Capitol and the White House, sure targets – across
the mall to meet my then-husband, the whole time feeling like a helpless ant
scurrying for cover. We quickly walked the couple miles home to Georgetown
(Metro was a no-go) – past the White House with snipers on the roof, past the anti-aircraft
tanks – all the time scanning the sky for random flying missiles, not knowing when
our turn would come, nor realizing that the sacrificial acts of several
passengers on a flight surely headed for our city had prevented further
destruction and loss of life. I visited New York City for a conference a month
after 9/11: Nothing can accurately describe the acrid smells or the vast scale
of senseless destruction right in the heart of our nation. It looked and felt like
the pit of hell.
On 9/11, my whole worldview forever
changed, in spite of myself. For the first time in my life, I acutely felt what
it was like to have an enemy who wanted to destroy me. I had nothing against
bin Laden personally, but I knew without a doubt that he did against me and everyone
I loved.
The terror of those days eventually
muted into a constant, background hum of fear – getting on the subway or riding
a bus, opening the mail, attending a Redskins football game, boarding a plane –
all were opportunities for my enemy to destroy me. I eventually moved away from
the city, tired of being on edge, feeling that life there would never be the
same. And I am only one of millions who experienced, to greater and lesser
degrees, the terrible effects of terrorist aggression.
Seeking Osama out to destroy him
was a necessary evil in order to protect the Christian West -- bin Laden’s own
declared enemy for more than 20 years -- from his destructive plans. Now he is
gone, and with him, much of the power of his terrorist network. To not to seek
to destroy him would have been a great evil. Was it possible to eliminate this
threat without killing him and other terrorist leaders directly? No. I believe
it is a simple example of the application of the just war theory.
Christ died for all, so that all
might live. But if we do not accept Him and repent from our evil ways, then
forgiveness cannot be ours. This is as true for terrorists as it is for each of
us. We are called to feel compassion and sorrow for those who do evil and do
not repent, and to pray for their (and our own) conversion. We are called to hope
with sincere hearts that bin Laden repented of his many sins as he died, so that he can experience
what it is to “love much,” and spend eternity with his all-loving Father. Only
the all-merciful and all-just God knows if this happened for sure.
But we are not called to allow evil
to persist through passivity. Our world is safer and more at peace now that Osama
and many other terrorist leaders are gone. This we can know for sure, since no
terrorist acts have occurred on US soil for ten years. I, and many other peace-loving people, rejoice that it is so.
