December 18, 2009
Reflection
Forgiveness: Easy to say, difficult to do
BY EMILY SNIPES (Catholic Charities)
A few weeks ago I watched an episode of Oprah in which the families of those murdered by Eric Wrinkles appeared and talked about the events leading up to their loss. Eric was broadcast on a live feed and was able to interact with two children whose parents he had killed, Tony and Natalie Fulkerson. Many of you know the story of what happened on July 21, 1994 and that Eric was executed on Dec. 11, 2009.
The families involved had been divided on how they viewed the execution of Eric. Some members felt he should pay for his actions and that lethal injection was a just act. Others knew that executing him would not bring any of their family members back or bring closure. They feel that it is only taking another life.
Our culture has the same divided opinion on the issue of the death penalty as it does on abortion, stem cell research and euthanasia. In each case it boils down to whether we respect the dignity of human life — whether it is our own or someone else’s.
Somehow Tony and Natalie Fulkerson’s two children, Kim and Matthew, have been able to move past this tragic event, even forgiving Eric. Their grandmother, Mary Winnecke, taught them to rely on faith and give everything to God to carry.
Mary has forgiven Eric and even prayed for him to seek forgiveness for his crimes. She also sought clemency on Eric’s behalf and essentially role modeled mercy for her grandchildren and others.
Forgiveness is an easy thing to say but a difficult thing to do. We are taught in the Sacrament of Reconciliation to seek forgiveness for our sins and at each Mass we say The Lord’s Prayer — “and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
I believe we repeat that prayer weekly because it is easy to forget. It is human nature to want someone to pay when they hurt us or someone we love. Most of the time we aren’t seeking justice, we are seeking revenge.
Five years ago an elderly woman driver crossed the center lane and hit my son and me head-on. Turns out she was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s and shouldn’t have been driving.
That avoidable event changed our lives forever. I was thankful our son was unharmed in the backseat, but I took most of the impact and my body suffered. My focus from the point I woke up in ICU until approximately two years later when I learned to forgive was on the pain and suffering I’d endured. I couldn’t get past what was taken from me or why God allowed it to happen in the first place.
I was angry. I was depressed. I was selfish. It was about me and no one else. The anger I allowed to fill my heart clouded my ability to see all that I had to be grateful for.
The elderly woman who hit us suffered as well, but at the time I didn’t think she’d suffered enough. I judged her family, whom I didn’t know, for allowing her to drive even though they were aware of her deteriorating condition. I judged her husband for not caring enough to drive her himself. Mostly I was looking for someone to blame. My situation cannot be compared to the pain and suffering of those affected by senseless crimes such as murder. The point is that when we cast judgment quickly on others we lose compassion.
We are called to take on the “mind of Christ” in judging others. Jesus encountered people every day who challenged him, but he never acted in hatred or revenge, even to those who wrongfully persecuted him.
Are we really qualified to judge the dignity of another person’s life? The death penalty basically says that we are authorized to deem a life inconsequential, as does abortion. If we respect the sanctity of all human life, then how can we rationalize the taking of someone else’s as an act of justice for the crime committed?