from The Last Boy Scout

[Joe has just found out that Mike was sleeping with his wife]
Mike Mathews: Look Joe, it just happened.
Joe Hallenbeck: Sure, sure, it just happened. Could happen to anybody. It was an accident, right? You tripped, fell on the floor and accidently stuck your dick into my wife. "Oops, I'm sorry, Mrs. H, I guess this just isn't my week".

A lot of people don't like this movie--after all, it has one of the most depressing plotlines of any action/adventure film (both when it came out in 1991 and in the years since then). It has always remained one of my favorites, however, not simply because of its script and acting (both of which were top-notch) but because to me, it demonstrates the nature of forgiveness and reconciliation as unconditional acts.

Like many of us, Mike Mathews attempts to verbalize his misdeeds in as positive light as possible--unwilling to confess and understand the responsibility he has for his actions and how he treats others. "I was just following orders," "She made me do it," and "You don't know what kind of life I've had" have been some of humanity's most infamous refrains, used to rationalize a variety of deliberately evil actions such as genocide, wife-beating, and serial murder. Those cries often fall on deaf ears, and rightly so--after all, anyone who has the mental and the emotional capability of deliberately doing harm to someone else is responsible for that harm, no matter what kind of experiences or life issues he or she has dealt with.

I've been guilty of this myself. In my effort to keep my gender identity issues a secret from others, I have made a practice of pushing others away, sometimes rather forcefully. Whatever issues I was going through, I didn't (and never have) had the right to inflict harm on someone else, and whatever issues other people have dealt in their lives, they are still responsible for whatever pain they inflict on me.

(I wonder if sometimes the very reason we end up fighting one another in war after war is because of our tendency to refuse to admit when (and where) we are wrong.)

Forgiveness and reconciliation do not stop there, however, as the following exchange from the movie indicates:

Jimmy Dix: I figure you gotta be the dumbest guy in the world, Joe. You're trying the save the life of the man who ruined your career, and avenge the death of the guy that fucked your wife.

Let's face it . . . a guy like Joe isn't very popular, especially in a society that believes in concepts like "3 strikes and you're out," "irreconcilable differences," and trying juveniles as adults. Credit ratings, tax records, criminal statistics . . . there are so many ways for people to "screw up" in our society and be ostracized permanently.

Stereotyping, in my opinion, is one of the worst ways to exhibit unforgiveness. It allows us to ratify our own personal prejudices and notions, and to remain distant (and ignorant) of others.

I have been met from time to time with quizzical stares and well-intentioned (but critical) questions in the wake of my reconciliation with someone who, 2 and a half years ago, deeply hurt me. I've been told everything from "Just be cautious that nothing like that happens again" (as if I wouldn't be :)) to "well, I guess that's very Christlike of you." I'm sure some of the people who know about this situation (which I will explain at some point) see me as a complete idiot--and maybe they're right.

After all, it's not like the person I reconciled with deserves to be treated fairly after what he/she did to me. On the other hand, though, neither do I--and yet, I have always, in similar situations, hoped that other people would forgive me.

Forgiveness is something that seems unappealing and weak in our culture today--it doesn't endear itself to a world in which "accountability" (yes, I am still on a tear about that :)) and "righteousness" are prized above things like love, respect, and tenderness.

However, forgiveness can also be a bullet that changes the world for the better.