After spying on our closest allies, a decade of overseas wars and a financial meltdown caused by greed, does the United States need to be forgiven? Do we need to be forgiven for the wars we have waged, for accidental deaths and intentional ones, for sending young soldiers to harm others and for the terrible damage they have sustained themselves?
Last week at the 11th hour of negotiations about the future American military presence in Afghanistan, President Hamid Karzai seemed to require an apology from President Obama. His spokesman asked for recognition that Afghans had suffered and that Americans understood their pain. Susan E. Rice, the national security adviser, disagreed and flatly said that there is no need for the United States to apologize. Since then an American general has indeed apologized for a drone strike on Thursday that killed a child.
What fact would have to be uncovered for America to go further in seeking forgiveness, or is there simply no place for this in 21st century diplomacy?
Whether it happens at the international level or between family members, forgiveness is the controversial business at the heart of our relationships. The ability to seek forgiveness and to forgive makes it possible for human beings to be connected to each other and to experience a kind of freedom from the iron hand of the past.
Last week the New York Times op-ed columnist David Brooks gave a lecture in Silicon Valley. He introduced his talk with a story about listening to "Command Performance," a rebroadcast of a radio program from the day Japan surrendered ending World War Two.
What struck Brooks most was the lack of triumphalism in the various announcers. He cited the humility of Bing Crosby, the host, who spoke about the cooperation of all the allies. The actor Burgess Merideth explicitly advised Americans to stay modest and to work for a lasting peace.
After arriving home Brooks turned on a football game. A receiver caught a pass for a two-yard gain. The football player ran up to an opposing player, pounded his chest and launched into a dance to express the greatness of his achievement.
Brooks pointed out that the humility of our forebears in the face of truly great accomplishments makes our contemporary acts of self-centeredness and pride more obvious.
He believes that public figures like George Marshall, Francis Perkins, Dorothy Day, and Dwight Eisenhower exemplified what he calls a culture of self-effacement. The humility we see that characterized the way people used to speak and act arose form a deep sense that the inner life of every person involves a struggle between our selfish inclinations and our higher ideals. In fact, for those generations this interior effort rather than the career drama was the guiding story of their lives.
He contrasts this attitude with the culture of distinction that we see in our own time and especially in places like Silicon Valley. This second culture only finds meaning in striving to distinguish one's self by great achievements, conspicuous consumption, and self-involvement verging on megalomania when compared with previous generations.
Being free from the past and forgiving others is a more difficult task for people raised in our culture of distinction. This is true for the simple reason that a connection exists between forgiving others, being forgiven and forgiving ourselves. We see this in the Lord's Prayer: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us."
John Patton, in his book Is Human Forgiveness Possible?, writes that we need to understand "human forgiveness not as doing something but as discovering something -- that I am more like those who have hurt me than different from them. I am able to forgive when I discover that I am in no position to forgive."
In other words, seeking forgiveness and accepting it helps us to learn how to forgive others. This is also the path of forgiving ourselves.
The Protestant reformer John Calvin (1509-1564) accused the church of selling forgiveness. But he did not want to do away with the practice of confession of sin. He believed that individual and general confession transform our lives. This was not because he believed we needed to focus more on our shortcomings, but because we need to physically hear that God forgives us. We need to know in our confidence, thoughts and actions that we are loved by God.
Unlike much later medieval thinkers, St. Gregory of Nyssa (c. 330-395) believed very practically that God draws us chiefly through our desires and passions. This includes sex and hunger. Similarly our desire for friendship, for connection to others and the world, is part of how God perfects us. He believed that to stop for even a moment in our progress towards goodness is to fall away from God.
Jesus taught constantly about the importance of seeking forgiveness and forgiving others. His last act while being executed by the state was to forgive.
Our culture of distinction makes the healing power of forgiveness more invisible to us both as individuals and as a society. Forgiveness is not simply something that you turn on or off. It is the way of being in a responsible relationship with others and working together on projects that matter. Forgiveness involves allowing ourselves to be freed from past pain and drawn by our desires to make progress in seeing ourselves in other people and recognizing what we share.