Twenty-fourth Ordinary

Matthew 18: 21 – 22

At that point Peter had the nerve to ask, “Master, how many times do I forgive a brother or sister who hurts me? Seven?” Jesus replied, “Seven! Hardly. Try seventy times seven”.

When the first plane slammed into the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001, I was in the throes of a crisis that left me deeply hurt and confused. I had experienced a personal betrayal I couldn’t imagine ever understanding and certainly ever forgiving. I was lied to, cheated, deceived, and disrespected. Though I tried to put on a brave front at work and among my family, I was devastated. I cried myself to sleep most nights.

When the second plane hit, my problems started to seem a little less pressing. By the time the towers collapsed and the enormity of the event began to sink in, my own wounds seemed less mortal.

Like the rest of the world, I did a lot of praying those few days for the victims and their families, the fire fighters, the medics, the investigators, my own family and friends, our country, and yes, its enemies. I tried to understand what led mass murders to such measures. It was hate, plain and simple – hate fuelled by unforgiving hearts – both ours and our enemies.

After a while I found I had to begin praying for enemies closer to home. As difficult as it was, I knew the only way past the ugliness and bitterness that is the calling card of any enemy is to forgive, again and again, if need be, and despite the scorn of others.