From the liturgy of the 11th Sunday, we learn from the wisdom of David that personal sin cannot be a hidden or private matter.

The effects of sin, whether hidden or not, entail harmful consequences for the individual as well as for society at large. Its consequences for the individual are, among others: the darkening and hardening of one’s heart.

The social repercussions of sin consist of the decadence and retrogression of the sinful society, although it might appear as though it is heading in the direction of progress; in reality such a society is developing a culture of death, as it draws near to its extinction due to neglecting human and moral values.  

The danger of sin lies first in its capacity to play games on the individual as  says  Robert Leighton: Sin first is pleasing, then it grows easy, then delightful, then frequent, then habitual, then confirmed; then the man is impenitent, then he is obstinate, then he is resolved never to repent, and then he is ruined. Secondly, its danger lies in its capacity to breed more sins, and like a ripple in the calmness of a lake, sin can affect the whole of society and even the whole of creation. St. Philip Neri was reported to have given a person guilty of slander the following penance: "Go take a feather pillow to the top of a church tower and throw the feathers to the wind.

Then come see me tomorrow.” Upon returning to the saint, the penitent was then asked to go back and pick up all the feathers and put them in order again.  The penitent then got it; while his sin might be forgiven, the scars it leaves behind can hardly be erased. 

Since sin ruins the individual and its ripple affects society, our duty to forgive restores the individual and heals the society. The experience of human forgiveness can pave the way for God’s gift of forgiveness. In recalling how much we have been forgiven, we can find it easier to exemplify the forgiveness we owe to others.

Forgiveness has its own complications; while it can happen on one side of a ruptured relationship, reconciliation takes both parties. It is probably true that our enemies could care less about our forgiveness.

It may be true that forgiving them will not change them at all. But we should not try to let ourselves off the hook by thinking that forgiveness is pointless because it will never change the enemies. 

We cannot bring about full reconciliation with the enemy by ourselves and if we demand that as a condition for our own forgiving, then we are missing the most important point on forgiveness.

The act of forgiveness sets aside the harm done to us, and is willing to start anew. Forgiveness therefore does not erase the memory of the harm done to an individual, but it refuses to let that past determine the future of the relation, at least insofar as it is up to us.

It refuses to dwell on the harm done, to turn it over and over in the mind and fantasize about getting even.  As St. Augustine said; our enemies will not destroy us but our enmity will. In fact that enmity or resentment is like a liquid that corrodes its container which in this case is our brain.

When all is said and done, our country remains a good example of what forgiveness can achieve in apparently hopeless situations. And Charles Baudelaire encourages us in his wise saying: True civilization does not lie in gas, nor in steam, or in turn-tables.

It lies in the reduction of the traces of sin in society. And this we have done by emphasizing the change of heart. We have learnt that a change of heart can take place differently. one is intellectual, the other is moral.

The intellectual change of heart or conversion is a dying to one’s own criteria, and it often takes place over an extended period of time. The moral conversion is often sudden and abrupt like a change of direction all at once.

And we have learnt that the dynamism of these two types of conversion is present in all people, what people need is time, which is the best teacher.

Ends