I'M SORRY!
Sunday, October 26, 1997
sermon by The Rev. Dr. Ward Williams
Back in the 70s Eric Segal wrote a book called Love Story. The book became a bestseller and was made into a film. In the movie, Jennifer is played by Ali MacGraw and Oliver is played by Ryan O'Neal. At one point in the story, they have their first serious fight as newlyweds. Jennifer runs from the apartment and disappears. She has tried to build a bridge of reconciliation between her husband and his father . . . and Oliver in anger tells her to get out of his life. Suddenly, Oliver realizes he has hurt her deeply, but she is gone! Frantically he rushes to the old familiar places searching for her. All the while she becomes more beloved to him in the emptiness of estrangement. Searching fruitlessly, he becomes increasingly frightened at what he has done to hurt her. Finally, having run out of places to look, he returns to the apartment . . . and there she is, sitting on the front steps. He hurries to her and begins to express his sorrow for hurting her. She looks up at him tearfully, and declares: "Love means never having to say you're sorry."
Social scientists believe that we can date the beginning of the decline in the art of apology from this moment.
I am not sure exactly what "Love means never having to say you're sorry" means, but I know that a lot of people interpret it to mean that you should never have to say you're sorry. Ever. The paradox seems to be that we expect an apology for any indignity committed against us, but if we are the one who should apologize, we insist that "I'm sorry" is a useless, insincere phrase.
In a "Peanuts" cartoon strip Lucy is mad at her mother. "You promised me a birthday party," she wails, "and now you say I can't have one. It's not fair!" Linus tries to intervene. "You're not using the right strategy," he counsels. "Why not go up to Mom and say to her, 'I'm sorry, Mother . . . I admit I've been bad, and you were right to cancel my party, but from now on I shall try to be good!'" Lucy has a grimace on her face as she thinks this through. Finally, in the last panel, she cries out, "I'd rather die!"
Unfortunately, that is the response of most of us. To admit actual wrongdoing would go against our attempt to maintain a good self-image.
Susan Krauss Whitbourne, Ph.D., a psychology professor at the University of Massachusetts, explains: "When you say you're sorry you're confessing to another person -- and to yourself -- that you have a weakness. Not apologizing or apologizing badly is a face-saving maneuver. You're trying to hold on to the assumption that underneath it all, you're a good person."
"I'm sorry" are among the most difficult words to speak. We don't say these words as often as we should. I'm not talking about "I'm sorry" in the sense of expressing sympathy to another person. I'm talking about "I'm sorry" when it is understood to be preceded by the phrase "I am wrong." "I am wrong, therefore, I am sorry."
We used to live in New England. One Sunday afternoon we bought tickets for a charity "house tour" to visit some of the historic homes in the Connecticut countryside. One of the places we visited had an antique sampler hanging in the dining room. I thought the sentiment was worth remembering, so I wrote it down. It said this:
AN APOLOGY Is a friendship preserver, Is never a sign of weakness, Is an antidote for hatred, Costs nothing but one's pride, Is a device needed in every home.
When we have made an error in judgment, we need to say, "I am wrong, I'm sorry." But it is a hard word to speak.
Why is it so difficult?
One reason is because of our pride.
Little children begin very early to develop pride. Not only pride in an accomplishment, but pride in their own self worth. Some amusing situations develop with children when they can't distinguish between legitimate pride and false pride. Every parent has known the experience of having to force a child to say to another child, or to an adult, "I'm sorry."
Another reason that we find it hard to apologize is that it adds to our already low self esteem.
There are some people who have genuinely large egos, but for most of us, assertiveness is nothing but a cover-up for our insecurity and our low self esteem. And to have to admit fault on top of that is a difficult thing to do.
We also find it hard to say "I'm sorry" because of our self-righteousness.
We become rigid in our beliefs, inflexible in our convictions, and immovable in our opinions. Our self-righteousness makes us arrogant and prevents us from seeing how wrong we may be. It's like the old story of the boss who says, "I may not always be right, but I'm never wrong."
It is also difficult to say "I'm sorry" because it is such a seldom-used phrase. It sounds strange to our ear when we say it. Since we don't hear the phrase "I'm sorry" very often, we don't say it very much.
Maybe another reason we don't say "I'm sorry" is because of embarrassment.
There is an acute sense of embarrassment involved in going to someone and saying, "I was wrong." This is so much the case that some people, though serious, say "I'm sorry" in a flippant sort of way. Often you hear somebody say, "Sorry about that." It is easier to be off hand than serious because there is embarrassment involved.
When I lived in a large student-housing apartment in New York City, the newspapers for the building were delivered in a bundle and then distributed by one of the students who lived down on the first floor. One day there was no paper. The next morning was the same. The third morning there was a note under the door. It said: "Not been getting your paper? Neither have your neighbors. For this I express my regrets, but I have broken my foot. Until I get my crutches, you can stop by for your paper in 1-C, bringing with you some small delicacy relished by invalids."
Our "paperstudent" was trying to say "I'm sorry," but in a flippant, embarrassed sort of way, I think.
In spite of all the difficulties, we need to say "I was wrong. I'm sorry." We need to say it more often than we do, even though it is one of the most difficult words to speak.
I.
We need to say "I'm sorry" because it is the word of humility.
Humility is part of our Christian value system. Humility enables us to have a sense of self awareness, a sense of who we are, a realistic self-image. We live in an age of narcissism, however. The media has quoted some people that you know: Howard Cosell, for example, said: "I really believe that I am the best. My relationship with the men who play the game, all the games, is probably unparalleled in this country." Howard Cosell is not noted for his humility! Reggie Jackson, the baseball superstar with the New York Yankees said, "I am the straw that stirs the drink." And Mickey Rooney said, "I've spent my entire life in the theater. Nobody gives me instructions." Novelist Gore Vidal has said, "They are desperate for me to write for them." Even Joan Kennedy had something to say that fits this pattern: "I have talent. I know I'm smart. I've still got my good looks. You are talking to one of the most fascinating women in America." When I was in a preaching class at seminary, one of my classmates began his sermon with a couple of quotes from Jesus. He said, "Jesus said, such and such, and such and such, and for the most part, I agree with him." All of these people lack humility, in one degree or another. Also, they lack a degree of self awareness. Surely none of us fit any of these examples. For to say sincerely, "I was wrong. I'm sorry," is to indicate that we know who we are -- a mixture of good and evil, of success and failure, that our values are straight and our self-image is clear.
II.
"I'm sorry" is also a word of healing.
If you live long enough, you will suffer the hurt of broken relationships. If you live aggressively, with strength and vitality, you will suffer those broken relationships even more often, and usually with people toward whom you intend no harm, or people with whom you would like to be friends. All of us know the hurtful experience of broken relationships.
In the poignant story Jesus told about the wasteful son (Luke 15), the young man who had decided to go it on his own, found that independence was not the whole answer. The far country looked glamorous and he threw off all the restraints, only to find that what he had left was what he wanted and needed most. The boy reaches a desperate point where he wants to return home. Sitting in the squalor of the pigpen, "he came to his senses" (verse 17) and started making plans. His best thinking told him that he could not just nonchalantly return and take up living where he had left off before his rude departure. He would have to say something. He would have to articulate what had happened and why he felt sorry for his actions. He began rehearsing his little speech right there, before hitting the road.
The focal moment in that story is when the son is coming up the road and the waiting father sees him and begins to run toward him. The boy says, "I was wrong. I'm sorry. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants."
Those are healing words. Whether it is with family, or friends, or business associates, to be able to say "I was wrong, and I'm sorry" is to take the necessary steps toward healing a broken relationship.
III.
"I'm sorry" is also the word of restitution.
When we fail to make amends, we are on dangerous ground. Knowing that we ought to seek reconciliation, but not doing so, eats away at us in a very harmful way.
Leonardo da Vinci was at work painting "The Last Supper" when he became very angry with another man. He lashed out at him with bitter words and threats. When he returned to paint, he started to work on the face of Jesus, but he discovered that he could not do so. Try as he would, he could not create the mood or capture the expression he wanted. He had lost his composure, and his skill had gone with it, and he knew why. Leonardo threw down his brushes and rushed out into the street to find the man and offer an apology. When the apology was made and accepted, da Vinci went back to the refectory of Sta. Maria della Gracia and was able to put the finishing touches on the face of Jesus. That word of apology put Leonardo right with the other person in the sight of God, but also, it put him right with himself and brought back the composure that was necessary for him to continue his work.
To be able to say, "I was wrong. I'm sorry," is difficult for all of us. But it is necessary because it is the word of humility, the word of healing, and the word of restitution. That's really all I wanted to say. If I have labored the point too long, I'm sorry.