So Many Options for Peacemaking; So Little Peace Being Made

If peacemakers are blessed, as Jesus says, then we should try to make peace. Certainly, it’s easier said than done. But you’d think, with so many options available, that something would work.

Option One

“Peace through superior firepower.” This is the basis of the peace imposed on others by various empires. For example, the Pax Romana (The Roman Peace), the Pax Brittanica (The British Peace), the Pax Americana (I think you’re catching on by now), and the Pax Seres (coming soon). It also forms the basis for the wide appeal of the Colt Single-Action Army Revolver ever since 1873, along with the marketing of other weapons and arms systems.

In Romans 13:3-4, the Apostle Paul notes that civil authority “does not bear the sword for nothing; for it is a minister of God, an avenger who brings wrath on the one who practices evil.” When law enforcement arrives in most confrontations, the superior firepower often results in a more peaceful resolution than would otherwise occur. But sometimes, the result resembles option two instead.

Option Two

“Peace through identifying common enemies.” Law enforcement officers responding to domestic violence calls know this option well. While a battered spouse may call in hopes of limiting or preventing further physical assault, when it proves necessary to arrest and remove the batterer (or, often, simply the least battered of the two), officers know how quickly they can face not only the resistance of the one being arrested, but of the reporting party as well.

This option has been practiced throughout church history, of course. In its better moments, widely differing denominations and traditions have united for the good of their communities, combating oppression, exploitation, and other damaging influences. With the multiplication of traditions and denominations through schisms, splits, and other church-fights, leaders have often found it advantageous to unite their constituents by focusing on some far more egregious belief or practice seen elsewhere. “Yes, I know these are important issues to resolve…someday. But for now, we need to unite in order to demonstrate the wrongs of our brothers and sisters in (insert name of contrasting theology, tradition, or denomination here).” This practice can also result in option three.

Option Three

“Peace through mutually-assured destruction.” At this writing, two local congregations in my community have suspended operations. One was accused of schism because they objected to the significant shift in theology of the parent denomination. That congregation, largely intact, now meets elsewhere than the building the built and maintained for decades, which now stands empty. The other congregation has endured over a decade of intermittent scattering and regathering, with a variety of issues quoted as causes. Just as options one and two are rarely successful in bringing about peace, so also the threat of mutually-assured destruction does not dissuade conflicting parties from proceeding with their destructive actions. Is there anyone more certain of how right they are than the zealot with the bomb strapped to his own chest?

And yet, some of us see the results of such passionate pursuits, and we determine to avoid not only those holding other positions in such fervor, but any fervor for our own positions as well. And this leads us to the fourth of our options.

Option Four

“Peace through apathetic resignation.” Eeyore is the most peaceful of all the inhabitants in the Hundred-Acre Wood. Granted, he may provoke less-than-optimal responses in others. Tigger’s hyperactivity may be seen as a necessary counter-balance to the contagious lethargy that might otherwise afflict him. Kanga’s maternal instincts are probably enhanced in an attempt to prevent Roo from growing up to experience similar depressive episodes. Even Pooh’s self-medication through his honey addiction may be a vain attempt to heighten life’s enjoyments, even as he shortens its duration through diabetes and, probably, heart disease as well. But for all the collateral damage he might inflame in others, Eeyore will always be the least conflicted of all. He simply does not care enough to hold any other expectation than the worst of all possibilities.

That place of depressed indifference is, I can attest, a peaceful place to be.

Conclusion

There is a means of peacemaking, however, that is blessed, and effective, and relates directly to being the “called children of God” (as Jesus states in the next to last beatitude—Matthew 5:9). If we do remember that all human persons are created to bear the image and likeness of our creator, God, then there are mutual interests we can serve together. The lowest common denominators can be identified in keeping with “The Rule of Threes” in medical triage as air, warmth, water, and food. Three minutes without air, three hours without warmth, three days without water, or three weeks without food, and we cannot help but experience significant physical damage.

We desire so much more, of course. But when our desires outstrip our needs, do we recognize the imbalance that results? If I can acquire more than what I need, then I consign others to have less than what I would want, perhaps less than they would need. And why do I want more? Because I am not at peace with myself, the bearer of God’s image and likeness. Why? Because I do not count my relationship with Him as sufficient. If I am not at peace with God, then I will inflict the iniquity of inequity upon anyone who might prevent me from getting what I want. That, in turn, invites conflict from those who are prevented from having what they need…simply because I want more than that.

Make peace with God, so that you may be at peace with yourself, which enables you to live at peace with others. Or, you can get a bigger gun, and gather others against a mutual enemy, in order to ensure that there will be no survivors on either side, and then—hopefully—recognize the futility of your pursuits and sink into the existential despair of motiveless lethargy.

That, of course, is a peaceful place to be, too. But not nearly so blessed as making peace and being called children of God.

The Expensive Habits of the Pure in Heart

Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

I am not pure in heart. That should be noted immediately. Not that I don’t have my moments of altruism. I occasionally do the right thing for the right reasons. But short afterward, my retrospect-o-scope looks for ways in which I may have missed the potential profit, improved influence, or at least reputation-building benefits that could have accompanied my efforts.

So, when I am looking at even those few moments that some would imagine me pure in heart, what do I see? I see me. I see what resources I had available. I see what needs those resources met. I see my frustration at being unable to accomplish even more for those in need. And I see…well, the gratitude I think I deserve, the pay-back that should replenish whatever the particular act of service “cost” me, or even just the spiritualized brownie-points of somehow imagining that God is glad to have me on His team.

Let me illustrate my point by haunting you with the same story He haunts me with.

A servant rises before dawn. He attends to the household chores before sun-up. The master wants breakfast. So the servant cooks. Then serves the food. Then clears away the remainder. Then does the dishes. And then, at first light, the heads out into the fields, knowing that the sun will set before the work there is done. But after finding the way back to the house in the dark, the servant finds the master waiting. No small talk. No offer of cool water at the end of a hard day. The master wants dinner. So the servant cooks. Then serves the food. Then clears away the remainder. Then does the dishes. And then the servant makes the fire, checks the doors, sweeps and mops and ensures that the house is pristine before the master awakens again tomorrow morning, and the same cycle of service begins again.

Jesus uses a very similar illustration in Luke 17:7-10. Here’s how that concludes in the New American Standard translation. “So you too, when you do all the things which are commanded you, say, ‘We are unworthy slaves; we have done only that which we ought to have done.’” (Luke 17:10)

At one point in my life, I thought that religion could be pursued as a hobby. And I still think that. I have plenty of (nominally—meaning they claim the title, whether or not they have any idea about what it means) Christian friends who do just that. One occasionally tells me, “Yep, you’ll see me in church Sunday. Time to get my batteries recharged.” Some hobbyists think they can buy God off with an hour or two here or there. Others find the self-help lectures from the pulpit to be profitable, more or less. Too many feel the need to brush up on their proof-texts. Otherwise they may not know what to say when discussions turn to morality…of other people.

But what has made me dissatisfied with my hobby is what lies at the core of Jesus’ illustration in Luke 17:7-10. As grating as I once found that passage, I now count myself grateful for those moments, sometimes hours at a times, though hardly any full days (yet) in which I find myself being the single-minded servant He describes.

I used to look at God as that master who is unrealistically robbing his servant of any free time, making his life a drudge of routine, frustrated by never-ending chores to be done. Then I began to spend time with caregivers. Not always is it possible. But I have seen the closest family, and especially spouses, who serve the needs of a Hospice patient, a chronically-ill patient, or the disabled. Some leave home only to eke out the basic economic support of continuing their employment so that the insurance paying for their loved-one’s care doesn’t lapse. All the while they do so, knowing that eventually there will come those days when they return from work to find that there is no end to the work to be done at home.

What is the difference between their attitude and that of others who see Jesus’ demands eating into “their spare time?” They serve because it is the most authentic expression of who they are in relation to the patient. And because they know that, one day, the time for such loving service will be ended. Those who have been relieved of that duty almost unanimously wish for just one more day of it.

The more I recognize the purposes God is seeking to fulfill in and through my life (glorifying His name, so that the body of Christ is strengthened and made whole, so that the Church may tear down the gates of hell holding so many captive in the communities we are called to serve), the more I think fondly of the privilege of serving Christ and others. And the more I do that, the more I am reminded of another of Jesus’ teachings: “We must work the works of Him who sent Me as long as it is day; night is coming when no one can work.” (John 9:4-5)

When you see God, does it purify your heart? I believe it does. And I seek to purify my heart so that I might see God all the more. Except when I don’t. That is, when I begrudge Him the infringements on my “free time.” By which I mean: Whenever I forget that I am privileged to serve the One I love, and those whom He and I love together, and that the time remaining for doing so grows shorter every moment that passes.

Do you serve the Master? Good. Sacrificially sometimes? Probably better but, for me, that still means I’m looking at “my time” being given up for Him. So, I invite you to join me—to strive to serve your Beloved. You’ll find that to be far more fulfilling. 

“I’m Right; You’re Stupid.” – Overcoming Our Tendency to Destroy Dialogue via Social Media

Let me offer the following:

A question. An observation. A process. A conclusion.

The question: When we post to social media, and especially when we construct memes, to whom is our message intended?

The observation: I have friends with whose positions I agree. I have friends with whose positions I disagree. Both groups tend to traffic in narrow, stereotypical misrepresentations of one another, polarizing any issue into the extreme ends of any given spectrum. The result is that I choose not to respond even to those with whom I might agree to some extent when they so overstate their position, or represent it as an attack on other human persons. Many of them only barely rise above the childish rant: “I’m right; you’re stupid.”

The process: Here’s how this seems to be happening.

Seeking to encourage dialogue, I have been regularly engaging some of the moderately overwrought expressions of particular positions. The positions held cover a wide variety of topics. But whether it is gun control, immigration, misogyny, the mutual hatred of Republicans and Democrats, the dangers of allowing expressions of religious faith, or any of a handful of other topics, the positions are not just predictable. The positions held become exclusively binary—they are quickly forced to the extreme ends of each issue’s spectrum. For example, if we hold that “Black lives matter,” then we must believe that “No other lives matter.” Likewise, if we love the unborn human person, then we must despise and seek to torturously enslave women. And those who seek the free exercise of their religious convictions can, in this paradigm, only desire to do so at the expense of others’ rights. In all these and more there is no sense of nuance, no appreciation for our limited perceptions, and no suggestion of third options or even alternative perspectives on either of the two (and only two) positions available on any issue.

And this is what is occurring among the moderately overwrought expressions that I have sought to engage. Other expressions are distinctly hateful and inflammatory, and my engagement of them has, so far, only elicited responses of the “I’m right; you’re stupid” variety.

I try to engage those whose expressions merely exaggerate, whose stereotypes are more universal, and who acknowledge that those who disagree with their positions may, in fact, still have a right to air, warmth, water, and food. Usually, however, even these seem intent only on further enflaming those who share their opinions. This works, of course. Each post offers the opportunity to reinforce the position held through others’ “likes” and “shares” and “retweets” and other means of congratulation, especially toward those who state the positions creatively. Yet this also encourages more extreme expressions. Those with the greatest response go beyond exaggeration into ridiculous hyperbole, beyond stereotypes into depersonalization, and even advocating the exploitation, oppression, and removal (yes, removal and even destruction) of entire groups of human persons.

This polarization continues unabated where either of two conditions exist.

The first condition allows some to remain oblivious to their own extreme expressions. This occurs when one’s social media friends and/or followers are almost entirely of a narrow political, socio-economic, religious, and/or ethnic category. Here, the reinforcement of our beliefs goes unchallenged because it is unheard outside the sycophantic circle (i.e., those who can only voice agreement with another’s thought, most often due to the total lack of any thoughts of their own).

The second condition, however, exists even where one’s circle of friends/followers expands beyond those categories. Those of us who reconnect with old friends from High School and College—and who have advanced a few years beyond those formative associations—find a broader range of opinions being expressed. We may agree with some, disagree with others, or even find ourselves wondering about the thought process that supports the position being stated. But in these cases, the polarization continues. Why? Because of this second condition: tacit approval—meaning we silently allow others to assume our agreement. As much as we may consider how someone has come to a conclusion far different from our own, we rarely engage in dialogue. We tend to respond only to those posts to which we can add a hearty “Amen!” with presumed impunity. Others, we read far enough to categorize into our own stereotypes, then scroll, swipe, or otherwise move on to safer, more agreeable posts.

The Conclusion: Having observed this polarization process, I would offer two uncomfortable suggestions. First, I recommend that we expand our corps of friends and followers to include those with whom we are likely to disagree. Second, I also recommend that we engage, politely, with questions or concerns about the content and tone of others’ posts, and especially the memes that are frequently shared by many.

Will this foster world peace? Are we hoping to come to agreement on these divisive issues? Can this possibly stop the bitterness and hatred being expressed?

I believe it would be a step in the right direction. Because when we choose to engage other human persons with whom we disagree, we would be treating them as though they were other human persons. That, in and of itself, might ramp down the rhetoric and allow us the privilege of actual dialogue. And, even if we may never reach agreement in the 5-10% on which we disagree, at least we might reach an accommodation for the 90-95% of our lives that we hold in entire agreement.

The Quality of Mercy...Strained.

This blog post is too short. It should be at least five hundred words in order to fulfill requirements of a course of study I have undertaken. It's not that I am ironically straining at others' mercy so much as I am still reeling so badly from the results of having shown mercy that I am composing this with just sixteen minutes to spare before the midnight deadline that I nearly forgot entirely.

I cannot give details, since they would unfairly identify those toward whom I have extended mercy, only to watch them throw mercy to the wind as they throw themselves to the swine. I mean to imply that they are pearls, though they hardly see themselves as such. That explains why they return, instead, to behaviors and relationships and habits that they know are harmful to them, their families, and/or their testimony to faith in Christ.

Jesus said that those who show mercy are blessed, because they are the ones who will receive mercy. I am tempted to quit showing mercy in the face of having failed to accomplish any improvement in the lives of those to whom mercy has been extended. But I wonder if perhaps Jesus had it backwards.

Before you become overly concerned at that apparent heresy, understand that what I mean is that with this Beatitude, as we do with most of them, we may not fully understand just how counter-culturally Jesus' words need to be taken.

If I show mercy in hopes of receiving mercy, then I probably am not truly merciful, but mercenary. I am a soldier-for-hire, doing as Jesus says because I expect to get something out of it.

But the fact of the matter is, long before I ever had any intention of showing mercy to anyone, even before I really understood what mercy was, it was shown to me. Billy Graham has preached on how most of us ask why there is no justice. And yet, he points out, we don't want justice. None of us wants what we deserve as rebellious betrayers of the image and likeness we were created to bear.

What we want, he notes, is mercy.

I didn't know what it was. I just knew what I deserved. And Jesus offered to withhold that, and present me with the blessing of finding, fulfilling, and finding fulfillment in a life purpose for which He designed me before I could ever conceive of such a fact.

I was shown mercy. And in such measure that makes my petty concerns about whether my mercy has a tangible effect on others...well, it just sounds silly at this point. Because if God's mercy were contingent upon my making greatest use of it...I'd have no mercy shown to me whatsoever.

There are five people I have in mind as it nears midnight in a hotel room far from home. I am here, in fact, to show mercy to still others, some of those who actually accept it with gratitude. (Others, however, would prefer that they not be shown mercy, but their objections have been strenuously presented, acknowledged, and determined to be contrary to the answer I get to the question, "What would Jesus have me do?")

So, as the opportunity arises to say "I told you so," or "Pay up," or "No, that's enough; you get no more," I will choose to show mercy. Because Jesus did tell me so, but He doesn't say, "I told you so." I owe Him everything, but he never asks me to "Pay up." And when I have squandered His provisions for my needs on my wants and desires, He still hears and answers my prayer for the resources to meet my needs. Mercy begets mercy. But not mine for His. His came first. Mine, then, has to last.

Hungering and Thirsting after Righteousness: A Case for Declining the Services and Benefits of the American Justice System

One of the first officers I worked with as a police chaplain told me about a paper he had written during his criminal justice education. His thesis was that what we call a justice system is more important to recognize as a system of crime and punishment. Further, he explained, the punishment cannot fit the crime. Otherwise, criminals would consider the cost-benefit ratio of their actions (a willingness to do the time for having done the crime) and include the potential for committing multiple crimes before being caught, or even going without being caught at all. Therefore, punishments must far exceed the actual cost of the crimes committed so that there is a negative incentive that changes the balance of the equation. Those who are caught and convicted must be shown to receive more than retributive justice. They must be made an example of through the vengeful infliction of significantly greater consequences than those they have caused to others.

Some time ago, Paul Louis Metzger wrote about one of Jesus’ Beatitudes. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,” to which Metzger’s title adds, “not those who crave fast food justice.” This raises the question for me, “Does vengeful punishment, or at least its potential infliction ‘if caught,’ promote greater righteousness in any individual, family, community, or society?” No. Injustice breeds injustice. Vengeance builds upon vengeance in a cycle that pits entire law-enforcement agencies against the entirety of communities that they are, theoretically, committed to serve and protect. What do the results suggest about this experiment that we call the criminal justice system? It isn’t working.

To further apply Metzger’s analogy, note his quote from London’s Daily Mail about fast food: “Research shows that unhealthy fats found in dairy products, burgers and milk shakes quickly make their way to the brain, where they shut off the alarm system that tells us when we’ve had enough to eat.” I would suggest that there appears to be something similar in our publicly proclaimed punishments and the voyeuristic tendencies to watch Nancy Grace and others pontificate over every minute detail of testimony and technicality. In the pornographically pervasive portrayals of our “justice system” we lose our abilities to discern and pursue the relationships that result both in and from the righteousness Jesus makes possible.

The numbing effects of exposing ourselves to so much of the crime-and-punishment saga has multiple effects. The worst of these, from my perspective (including service as both a police chaplain and prison chaplain), is that we find forgiveness to be incomprehensible. Accepting that others who have harmed us in the past may indeed harm us again in the future, and yet unilaterally pursuing the reconciliation of the relationship with them—this is ludicrously costly. So, what difference can Jesus make if His followers were to adopt something so insanely risky? Just this: those who would buy into the preacher of these beatitudes, we who also listen and follow when He says to forgive as we have been forgiven by God, and when He says to give to anyone who asks of us…we are destined to a similar fate as our Lord faced. No, not all of us will be crucified. But we will each find ourselves making the myriad sacrifices that parallel the condescension described in Philippians 2:5-8. Jesus gave up much more than we often appreciate, long before He gave the last vestiges of His life itself. Will we, as the Apostle Paul requires, "have this same mind which was in Christ Jesus?"

And yet, even if crucified with Christ, we “nevertheless” live (Galatians 2:20). We are subjected to forces that seem sure to destroy us, and yet are preserved throughout them (II Corinthians 4:6-10). And as we implement the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount (in which the beatitudes are found), we entrust ourselves to the miraculous provision and protection that sustains us, up until the time that Jesus completes our service here on earth (i.e., when that which is for the good of we who love Him and are called according to His purpose—Romans 8:28—is to be taken home to His most immediate presence).

As citizens in 21^st Century North America, we are free to pursue justice. But as subjects of God's eternal kingdom we are, instead, called to do justice—i.e., to give to those whom we owe—and to love mercy—i.e., to forgive those who owe us. This requires, as God says in Micah 6:8, that we walk humbly with God. But to demand our rights, to seek to have others inflicted with vengeance for their wrongs against, or to support a system that operates on such principles? To do so is to ignore the calling to righteousness inherent in the gospel, especially in the Sermon on the Mounts, and undeniably in the beatitudes. 

As you consider the wrongs that others have done to you, pray about giving Jesus’ way a try. You may be shocked and awed by the results.

No Apologies, Part Two – What you should say to those who say they’re sorry.

Nice graphic representation of
an imperative sentence.

 In part one, I laid out three common types of apologies, and recommended that we should decline to accept any of them. That left the question, however, “If we were to refuse one another’s apologies, then what do we do about the misunderstandings, offenses and other damage we do in the course of our relationships?” Here’s the answer to that question.

Repentance as an Alternative to Apology – The worst thing about apologizing is that it fails to address any real change in the damaging behavior. Apologies allow us to avoid repentance. But before any suggestion that we need to repent, we need to know what that word means.

Repentance is rare enough in its partial and limited forms. But where some emphasize the emotions of being “sorry” for one’s sins, others portray it as merely stopping a particular behavior, while too few acknowledge that there are accompanying attitudes that need to change as well. In short, repentance involves “all of the above,” along with recognizing and implementing the positive behavior that replaces and displaces the pattern of wrongs that apologies reinforce.

Not a bad idea, especially if you have trouble imagining
the kinds of things that lead to and enable your bad behavior.

In short, here’s what repentance sounds like: “This is what I did. This is how it has hurt you. This is how I propose to repair the damage I have done. And these are the steps I am taking to change my behavior, the attitudes that led to it, and the other ways it shows up even when I’m not harming you in this particular way.” Is this level of detail necessary for every wrong we’ve done? Yes. Otherwise it is too easy for us to ignore the realities that repentance requires.

Jesus said that murder not only has its root in anger, but anger, even when it results only in abusive words, damages so severely as to merit similar consequences. Each harmful action requires repentance, because no single instance of wrong occurs without a supporting cast of underlying attitudes and enabling behaviors. So also it is with the lust that not only may lead to adultery, but that is adultery. Likewise any other breach in our relationships stems from a lack of consideration for those relationships. When we do harm to another, it is because the causes and patterns supporting that harm have taken root within our souls. Therefore, if we choose to repent, then the causes deserve as much attention as the effects.

For more on the "Non-Apology Apology," the "Apology as
Reset-Button," and the "Rationalizing Apology,"
see Part One.

This is why there is still one more element we have to eliminate.

The Folly of False Forgiveness – There is one other factor to be considered in our decision to decline an apology. Too often, Christians especially seem intent on demanding forgiveness in return for an apology. “I said I’m sorry. Don’t be so judgmental. Jesus said you have to forgive me, or you’ll go to hell.” That theology may seem a little warped to some. But the underlying causes of our judgmental attitudes and actions fit the same pattern as above and must be as directly confronted. (e.g., Matthew 6:14-15 and Romans 2:1-4.)

Wouldn’t the wiser path, then, be to simply ignore the wrong, forget the pain, and move forward toward freedom in having forgiven? That is the advice many well-meaning Christians would give. And yet, it requires the pretense that we can “move forward” as though “nothing ever happened.” Practically speaking, that is dangerous. Scripturally speaking, it is unsupportable, even when there is repentance.

God built our brains so that we learn from experience.
Forgiveness is a decision, based on knowledge.
There is no forgetting some of what has been done.

Even when someone claims to be truly repenting, forgiveness involves great risk, and should be undertaken only by those who trust Christ for their protection and provision. Showing mercy is always costly. Yet Jesus does admonish us that when someone comes to us, even seven times in one day, and says that they are repenting, we are to forgive them for what they have done in the past.

Still, forgiveness is not forgetfulness. The patterns of behavior that Jesus noted in the Scribes, Pharisees, Romans, crowds and others suggested that His hearers must constantly be aware of their probable responses and reactions. Whether refusing to cast “pearls before swine,” or to allow the crowds to make Him king by force, or even to let His own disciples thwart His mission by their insistence on turning Him away from danger, Jesus accepted that the attitudes and actions of others would eventually end His life, and yet forgave even those who stood by as He died at their hands.

Had to include this one since it shows my repentance
from intolerance for grammar and spelling errors.

So, we are free to forgive even the unrepentant, of course. But we need not do so ignorantly. Nor are we to do so on the basis of mere words, no matter how “sorry” someone may seem. And even where there is a claim of repentance, John the Baptist’s call to “bear fruit in keeping with repentance” suggests that we would be wise to wait for a new pattern of behaviors to be well-established before choosing to entrust ourselves to the perpetrator in the future.

So, without apology, I recommend that you begin to decline apologies…and pursue repentance and forgiveness instead.

So, how would I recommend you respond to someone’s apology?

“Repent, sinner” works for me.

No Apologies, Part One – Why you should say No to those who say they’re sorry.

Feel free to submit in triplicate to the offended party.

I’m tired of hearing “I’m sorry.” Before you apologize for having said “I’m sorry,” please bear with my own apology for being so slow to admit how annoying I find it. In part, it’s because I’ve lost patience with those who abuse the privilege. So many apologize so constantly for repeating the same bad behaviors that I’ve come to recognize three particular kinds of apology—and I believe we are best served by declining, rejecting, or even rebuking each of them.

Not the most popular rack at Hallmark. Most prefer to write their own.

The Non-Apology Apology – Sports fans and other celebrity-cultists quickly become familiar with the non-apology apology. There are several phrasings, but the blame-shifting remains the same. You’ve heard, no doubt, some form of “I apologize to anyone who may have been hurt by reports of my actions.” Clearly, the fault lies not with the perpetrator of domestic violence, sexual assault, drunk driving, racist ranting, or whatever other egregious behavior is in view. No, the problem is caused either by those who reported the actions or, just as frequently, those whose sensibilities are too fragile to withstand another onslaught against their hopes for upholding basic societal standards.

This would make a nice insert with your choice of card from above.

The non-apology apology is the most popular of the apologies, mostly because each instance is broadcast to millions of potential imitators. Others, like the two below, are experienced more personally.

The Apology as Reset-Button – If you’ve been offered a series of apologies, each one more elaborate, for behaviors that become more egregious with each new instance, then you likely recognize the pattern that accompanies abusive, bullying, or otherwise manipulative relationships. You recognize the echoes of “I’m so sorry. That will never happen again.” You also know the threat or pain that prohibits you from pointing out that it has happened again. Early on, perhaps you incurred the protest, “Why do you keep bringing that up? I said I’m sorry that I do that.” Now, you see no need to hear again that “You need to learn to accept it; that’s just how I am.” You’re supposed to have reset your level of tolerance for another’s behavior to accept yet another new low. You can still object, but only when behaviors surpass the severity of those already apologized for (no matter how often the behavior is repeated). In fact, you’ve probably been made to apologize for pointing out that the other person’s prior apologies appear to have effected no change in their behavior.

Apology Bingo: Works just as well with "Law and Order" episodes
as it does with ESPN's Sportcenter.

Declining to accept an apology seems impolite, but please don’t apologize. Not even if you want to use this last type of apology and tell me why you don’t really need to apologize at all.

The Rationalizing Apology – This pattern actually comes closest to the classic definitions of “apology” as providing a defense or explanation for one’s behavior. The reason I recommend rejecting it as an apology is that it eludes any responsibility for changing that behavior, especially around the person to whom the behavior is being explained. “You know I would never have done that if I hadn’t been so…” angry, or drunk, or tired, or stressed, or surprised, or whatever other mitigating factors explain and excuse my decision to behave badly toward you. Often, this apology saddles the person who is supposed to accept the apology with the responsibility for the bad behavior. If you don’t want to endure it again, then you must change the circumstances that led to it. This differs from the Non-Apology Apology in that it admits that the behavior itself is offensive or damaging. But in some ways it is worse, shifting responsibility and all but guaranteeing a repetition of the behavior at whatever point circumstances warrant it.

Am I saying that you should not accept an apology? Yes. Am I saying not to forgive those who say, “I’m sorry,” especially if they repeat it often? Yes. But if we were to refuse one another’s apologies, then what do we do about the misunderstandings, offenses and other damage we do in the course of our relationships?

We’ll discuss that in part two.

But you should be warned: Part Two gets even more direct about the alternative to apologies.