The Power of Forgiveness

The image of Silda Wall Spitzer is something I can’t forget -- a once mighty corporate attorney with a Harvard law degree wilting like a dying flower next to the man she once adored.

When news broke of now former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer’s habitual trysts with “posh” prostitutes, I went into search mode trying to find something that would explain it. An estranged marriage, a bitter wife, anything that might tell why a man who had everything, and promise for even more, would wreak such pain and devastation on his family and himself.

What I discovered made his actions even more senseless. All reports told of a happy marriage and family. All testimonials about his wife describe a woman who is extremely smart, kind, witty and fun to be around.

And pictures to support this portrait are plentiful – a beautiful wife beaming with pride at his side or looking admiringly at him. Smiles, smiles everywhere – such a contrast to the grim photos of her looking deflated and disheveled at his side while he confirmed for the world the truth about his numerous infidelities.

In a 2005 New York Times article, Spitzer talked about his wife’s “deeply held sense of ethics,” and said he relies on her very much as someone to talk to “in order to resolve a tough issue.” Too bad he didn’t talk to her about whatever “tough issues” were driving him to pay other women a lot of money for sex.

As I look at pictures of this devastated woman, I wonder if forgiveness will be possible for her. Is it possible to forgive such selfish and reckless behavior? A small part of me, I’m sorry to admit, hopes it is not.

I stumbled recently across an interesting effort called “The Forgiveness Project.” It gathers stories about forgiveness from people throughout the world – people who have endured horrific pain and injustice.

The organizer of the project has concluded that the idea of forgiveness causes dramatically different reactions in people.

Some, perhaps many, people see forgiveness as a weakness, a cop out, a way to let their enemies off the hook. To people in this camp, forgiving an awful deed shelters perpetrators from the justice they are due.

This project has created an exhibition about forgiveness. Its provocative title, “The F Word” is intended to speak to those who think forgiveness is a dirty word.

But others see forgiveness in the opposite light -- as the ultimate form of power. Mariane Pearl falls into this category. Remember her husband Daniel Pearl? He was the Wall Street Journal reporter who was kidnapped and subsequently beheaded by terrorists in Pakistan a few years ago. A video of his brutal murder was posted on the Internet for everyone to see.

Mariane Pearl said of her husband’s killers, “The only way to oppose them is by demonstrating the strength that they think they have taken from you.”

Archbishop Desmond Tutu is another believer in the liberating power of forgiveness. “Forgiveness does not mean condoning what has been done,” he told The Forgiveness Project. “It means taking what has happened seriously and not minimizing it; drawing out the sting in the memory that threatens to poison our entire existence.”

I like these ideas. Forgiving does not mean surrendering or crawling into a pit with the weak and timid.

Forgiveness is an expression of power – that’s why it’s so difficult to do. Remaining bitter and angry and oppressed is easy, natural. But to forgive? That requires strength. You must be strong to forgive.

This is the message of Christ at Easter – our most powerful role model of forgiveness. It’s a message of hope for Silda Wall Spitzer and everyone facing wrongs large and small that challenge us, in due time, to forgive and live.

Defined by a Word, a Pooh or a Shoe

When I was in college a friend of mine once declared, “Julie, if you were a shoe you’d be a plain, brown wedge!”

Those of us gathered at the time proceeded to have an amusing discussion about what kind of shoe best described each of us – a spiky patent-leather pump, a penny loafer, a running shoe, or perhaps a comfy slipper … We were able to capture each personality with a shoe type amazingly well.

My children recently hit me with a different kind of personality profile – this one had a distinct pre-school twist. “Mom,” they said. “You’re just like Rabbit in Winnie the Pooh.”

Rabbit? Grouchy, humorless, all-business-no-play Rabbit?

OUCH! This is considerably more troubling than being a plain, brown wedge. So, I responded defensively, “OK, if I’m Rabbit, what’s daddy?”

You already know their response. “Tigger,” they chimed in unison, as if I should already know that. I rolled my eyes and briefly wondered if they had premeditated the entire conversation to destroy my self-image as a mother. Then I remembered one of them is eyeing a career as Santa Claus and another still worries about falling down the toilet.

It could be worse, I thought, at least they didn’t call me Eeyore. I have since overcome this heartless assault by convincing myself this is the plight of all mothers. We are the schedule keepers and task masters. Daddies bounce in for fun and games – wrestling, chasing, and whipping everyone into a frenzy right before bedtime. Moms assume the thankless job of restoring order and calm, just like trusty ole, underappreciated Rabbit.

The Pooh personality test is an entertaining exercise. With a little generalization, just about everyone can be cast as a character in Pooh. Hillary Clinton is quintessential Rabbit -- purposeful, policy-oriented, serious. Barack Obama personifies Roo – young, energetic and optimistic. George Bush could be Pooh – friendly and affable. John Kerry was Eeyore – negative and naysaying. John Hoeven is Christopher Robin – deliberate and astute, like an older brother.

The book “Eat Pray Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert briefly explores a similar notion, that people and places can be defined by a single word. For example, New York City’s word is ACHIEVE. Los Angeles is SUCCESS. John McCain is SURVIVE.

I’ve enjoyed trying to find the perfect words to define people and places near me. Fargo is AMBITION. Bismarck is HOME. Dickinson is RESOURCEFUL. My mom’s word is FAMILY, while my dad’s is clearly PROVIDE. My husband is PLAYFUL.

As for me, I’ve somewhat begrudgingly accepted that my word is SENSIBLE. I tried hard to find a more captivating term, but ultimately sensible is what I am. I love a good bargain, a meaningful conversation, and saving time and money. I live for schedules and lists, although I certainly am not ORGANIZED. I enjoy going out but rarely have “too much fun.” Suffering ill consequences the next day is just not sensible.

Interestingly, my friends essentially pegged me with this term 20 years ago when they called me a “plain brown wedge.”

This begs the question, how much can we change our basic nature? Can Bismarck become “hip?” Probably. Can I? Probably not. But I can appreciate others around me who embody different words, shoe types or characters from the Hundred Acre Wood. I need Tiggers around to make me step out of my sensible, plain-brown wedges from time to time.