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He herehere tawhito o tētahi whareherehere kōwhiritia a Nazi i haere ki te toro i tana hoa he toa te whakamātautau tahi ki a ia. ‘Kua murua koe i ngā Nazi?’ ka pātai ia ki tana hoa.
‘Āe,’ te whakahoki.
‘Nā, kāore ahau. E kī ana tonu ahau ki te whakarihariha mō rātou.’
‘I tēnā āhuatanga,’ ka kī tana hoa me te ngāwari, ‘kei roto i te whareherehere tonu koe.’
“He tangata kāore e taea te whakamurua i ētahi atu, ka pakaru i te whakarārangi e whai ana ia ano… mō te katoa he hiahia ki te whakamurua,” i tuhi a George Herbert (1593-1633).
E rere ana te murunga i roto i te ngākau o te ao tāngata; kāore i a ia ka waiho he tangata hei repo o te tūkino. Nā te mea he pokapū ki to tātou oranga, kāore he mea nui ake i te tirotiro hohonu ki roto i ia anō.
He kupu ‘pai’ te whakamurunga, i te mea e harikoa ana te katoa kia whakaahuatia hei whakamurunga.
Me whai mana rawa tēnā kia whakatūpato tātou; ka taea e tātou te whakararuraru tūturu kua ngana ki te whakatau pērā.
Ka tino whakaiti ahau – ka taea e huna. Ka ngaro ahau i te kaha kia tohu anake.
I roto i ngā wiki (ngā tau rānei), ka whakakī ahau i te riri puku. Engari kei te wehi ake ahau i tēnei wā ki te tohu i te hē na te mea ka tino pahū te riri, ā, ka wehi ahau i ngā pahūtanga.
Engari, ka horomia te riri e ahau, ‘whakawairua’ ahau, ā, ka kōrero ki ahau anō kua whakamurua ahau ia.
Ehara tonu! kāore ahau e murua.
Mahue kē, ka horomia e ahau he rongoa whakamate ka whakamate i taku hononga ki taua tangata. Kua huna te wehi hei whakamurua.
Kātahi, ka whai te tangata e tatau ana; ka whai te tangata e whakaae ana ki te whakamurua, engari kāore e wareware; ko te tangata e tirotiro ana tonu mō te mea ki te whakamurua; ā, he tokomaha atu.
He tinihanga katoa ēnei āhua o te whakamurua.
Ko te tohu o te whakamurua tūturu ko te mōhio ngangahau he hiahia ahau ki te whakakmurua anō.
Ko tēnā te mea ka ngaro i ngā āhua tinihanga.
“Murua ō mātou hara, pēnei i a mātou e muru ana i te hunga e hara ana ki a mātou.”
Ka whakawātea ki te whakamurua i ētahi atu i tētahi ara kore whakamarumaru, mehemea ka whakaae tātou kāore ā tātou pukapuka i te tika anō – kāore he pukapuka katoa i te tika; ka whai katoa te tangata i tētahi wā ano, me tētahi atu: “whitu tekau whitu”; hei kupu anō, ka mutunga kore.
Forgiveness – Murunga
A former prisoner of a Nazi concentration camp was visiting a friend who had shared the ordeal with him. ‘Have you forgiven the Nazis?’ he asked his friend.
‘Yes’, came the reply.
‘Well, I haven’t. I am still consumed with hatred for them.’
‘In that case,’ said the friend gently, ‘they still have you in prison.’
“He that cannot forgive others, breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass… for everyone has need to be forgiven,” wrote George Herbert (1593–1633).
Forgiveness flows at the heart of human life; without it a human being becomes a cesspool of bitterness.
Since it is central to our life, nothing is more important than looking into it as deeply as possible.
Forgiveness is a ‘nice’ word, in the sense that just about everyone would be pleased to be described as forgiving.
That should be enough to put us on the alert; we can suspect straight away that many vicious attitudes have attempted to dress up like it.
Someone does me harm – it could be unknowingly. I lack the courage simply to point it out.
Over the weeks (or years) I become full of silent anger. But I am now more afraid than ever to point out the wrong because anger tends to be explosive, and I am afraid of explosions.
Instead, I swallow it, ‘spiritualise’ it and tell myself that I have forgiven him or her.
Of course, I have not.
Instead, I have swallowed a dose of poison that will kill my relationship with that person. Fear has been masquerading as forgiveness.
Then there is the person who keeps count; there is the person who claims to forgive but not forget; the person who is always on the lookout for something to forgive; and a host of others.
All these forms of forgiveness are counterfeit.
The mark of real forgiveness is a lively awareness that I am in need of forgiveness myself.
That is what is missing in the counterfeit forms.
“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who sin against us.”
We are set free to forgive others in an uncomplicated way when we accept that our own books are not balanced either – that nobody’s books are balanced, that every human being needs another chance, and another: “seventy times seven”; in other words, endlessly.
- Gerard Whiteford is Marist priest; retreat facilitator and spiritual companion for 35 years.
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