'Forgiveness is not a corollary of the grieving process - but the culmination of it'

Rev. Lyndon Harris was "at the foot of the World Trade Center's South Tower" when the second plane collided into it at 9.03am on September 11, 2001. As the priest in charge of the little chapel that was just across the street from the fallen Twin Towers, Lyndon had a quick decision to make. Buildings had crumbled all around it but, ironically - and incredibly - St Paul's Chapel stood. "We took that as a sign," recalls the now 57-year-old, speaking to WKND from his base in Zirconia, North Carolina. "Not that we were holier than everybody else, but that we had a big job to do - respond to the needs of the grieving in the aftermath of 9/11."
The very next day, the historic chapel - that George Washington visited on his inauguration day as the US President in 1789 - was opened to serve the needs of the rescue workers and first responders at Ground Zero. It was an operation that went on for more than eight months, during which time, they grew to a volunteer pool of 15,000 and served over half-a-million meals. Unbeknownst to Lyndon at the time, it would also be the catalyst for the unravelling and rebuilding of his own life from the ground up.

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Prior to 9/11, Lyndon will tell you, he had forgiveness "all figured out" - including great sermons on the subject. Today, he looks back and acknowledges: he didn't have the first clue. For in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks, the volunteer mission Lyndon oversaw went on to take a massive toll on him, as it did on other first responders. He was diagnosed with significant PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) - having done last rites on numerous body bags at Ground Zero - and his lungs were compromised from extensive exposure to the air there. Sharp conflicts with his superiors over the direction their work  was taking only compounded matters and he finally resigned, digging himself into an "angry, bitter hole for a number of years" - a status quo that cost him his marriage, home and career but eventually brought him "kicking and screaming" to the work of forgiveness advocacy he does today.
Excerpts from the interview:

After years of bitter resentment, what caused the deep shift in perspective that led you to your mission for forgiveness advocacy today?
The hole I'd dug myself into was really to my own detriment. I felt like a victim - but also felt a weird strength in my victimhood that wasn't actually healthy for me. It was only after I heard the words of Nelson Mandela - "not forgiving is like drinking a glass of poison and waiting for your enemies to die" - that I realised I'd been drinking the same poison for years. It tasted really good too! But it was still poison and it nearly killed me, because even though my anger was directed at people around me, the real damage was what I was doing to myself by refusing to let go.

Given the pervasive culture of hate we're exposed to on a daily basis today, is forgiveness now more critical than ever?
Well, as I often tell newlyweds, the only conflict-free existence is death. Some are, of course, understandably stunned (laughs). The point is: it's how we deal with conflict that matters - and forgiveness is the essential tool that helps us manage and overcome those divides. The big problem with life is that none of us are going to get out alive - so we'd better find a way to live creatively within the tensions of our mortality and find meaningful ways to co-exist with others, especially with those we disagree.
Consider Mandela, who after 18 years on Robben Island, said: "If I left prison with hatred in my heart, I would remain a prisoner for the rest of my life." That's why, on the day of his presidential inauguration, he invited his former prison guard to the ceremony as well. Forgiveness is a noble virtue - but it is also one of the most loving things we can do for ourselves.

Why is revenge not a viable option in the end?
The biggest problem with pursuing revenge is that there is no future in it. Research has found that the person who contemplates revenge gets a rush of adrenaline; the pleasure pathways in the brain light up the same way they do when we eat chocolate. Maybe that's why it's called sweet revenge! But it explains why revenge often leads to a never-ending cycle of violence and retribution. These conflicts that go on for generations are just a tragic loss of life and human potential.

There are many incredible stories of people who learnt to forgive in almost unimaginably unforgiving circumstances, but they all tend to have the same underlying experience: the process was agony - akin to dying without dying, because they were choosing to pursue peace with the offender as opposed to hate. Is there a way to bypass the personal suffering that true forgiveness demands?
I don't think there's a shortcut, but it is easier than we think. First of all, we have to accept that we live in a world where good and bad things happen - and we cannot escape either. We shouldn't be under the naïve assumption that we're going to get out of life, unscathed. But that shouldn't overwhelm us either, because we also have the capacity to decide how we respond to difficulties. And it has more to do with who we are than what anyone does to us.
When we argue with our past, we create suffering. When we think we can change our past by fluffing over it or burying it, we are mistaken. The damage has been done. The question is how much more damage will we inflict on ourselves by not letting it go. That's what forgiveness is: deciding that, in spite of the hurt, you choose not to hate.

Wouldn't that be equal to condoning the crime or even enabling the wrongdoer?
Forgiveness does not mean 'letting people off the hook'. It's something we do for ourselves. For example, when the Charleston shootings took place in 2015, the families of the nine victims came forward to say they had chosen to forgive the gunman - not because he deserved it, but because they deserved peace. To embrace the natural hate that would come from the tragedy would be too great to bear otherwise. So, he was prosecuted to the fullest - but from a perspective of justice, not revenge.
It's so horrible to think of the many around the world who do not get the justice they deserve. Tragedy cannot be fixed. but in a loving community, it can find healing.

The thing about forgiveness is, even afterwards, when you have finally let it go, your losses may still remain losses. You may not receive justice and you may not get back what you lost. What would you say to someone who asks: "What's the point?"?
The point is that it's one of the best things we can do for ourselves: to release the suffering, anger and bitterness that doesn't serve us. We think of forgiveness as a corollary to the grieving process, but it's the culmination of it. It's where you can have the memory but not the sting, as Alexandra Asseily, founder of The Garden of Forgiveness project in Beirut, puts it.

Have you had people tell you that such a concept is too lofty, only attainable by saints?
Yes! So many think of forgiveness as otherworldly or religious. But forgiveness is not captive to religion. It's a positive, psychological thing we can do to make our lives more joy-filled, a trainable life skill that can help us navigate the conflicts of life with grace and dignity, compassion and love. There are details in our stories that may never change, but instead of continuing along as victims, we can change the narrative through forgiveness and become the heroes of our story.

In all your experiences of engaging with people, do you find that a lot of us don't even realise we haven't truly forgiven a grievance?
Absolutely. Forgiveness is not 'once and for all'. It's a daily decision to breathe and be at peace. Unresolved grievances affect everything else in our lives, because hurt people [will only] hurt people; healing people serve. We may not even realise why we feel a certain way about a group of people or why we act a certain way. But one of the best things we can do for ourselves is write down an inventory of grievances, and bring them to our own awareness. If we take the time to do that and be honest with ourselves about the grudges we hold, we can begin healing ourselves and, by extension, become better participants in the world community.

How does 9/11 make you feel today, almost 20 years on?
(Sighs) 9/11 happened and it was covered by every media outlet in the world. But I prefer to talk about 9/12 - which was about how we responded... The attacks changed a lot in our country, but there were many beautiful, heroic examples of love that came out in response to that tragedy. I would not wish that 9/11 happened. but I've been given a new mission in life because of it: to help people see that we can be happier and healthier through the power of forgiveness.

HOW TO FORGIVE
Everett Worthington, a professor at Virginia Commonwealth University and a pioneer in forgiveness research, has developed a five-step process called REACH that has been tested with positive results in more than 20 controlled scientific studies.
R is for "recall" - Remembering the hurt that was done to you as objectively as you can.
E is for "empathise" - Trying to understand the viewpoint of the person who wronged you.
A is for "altruism" - Thinking about a time you hurt someone and were forgiven, then offering the gift of forgiveness to the person who hurt you.
C is for "committing" - Publicly forgiving the person who wronged you.
H is for "holding on" - Not forgetting the hurt, but reminding yourself that you made the choice to forgive.
karen@khaleejtimes.com