Practising Mercy? Start with Yourself

However, a victim stops being a victim once he is able to forgive and let go

It was a sunny morning in late spring. The air was still and the morning rush was easing. It was a peaceful sort of morning, the weekend just around the corner. It took one incident to change all that.

A taxi stopped suddenly  as taxis do  under a bridge to allow some passengers to alight. As far as misdemeanours go, this wasn’t the worst. Traffic was crawling and everyone was waiting for the robot to turn green, so the taxi driver and his passengers hadn’t really obstructed traffic.

Unfortunately, the car behind the taxi didn’t see things in the same way. He came screeching to a halt. He hooted: once, twice and then put his hand down on the horn. The man in the car was visibly agitated. He gesticulated angrily and kept hooting.

The robot changed and slowly the cars inched forward. A few metres ahead the road became two lanes. The taxi took the right lane, clearly intending to turn right at the light, while the angry man took the left. As he did so, he continued to hoot and gesticulate at the taxi driver, who now was alongside him in the next lane.

Still unhappy with the injury done to him, the man swung open his door, and flew out of the car with a sjambok in his hand. He ran over to the taxi and began whipping the body of the vehicle.

The taxi driver didn’t seem to be in the mood for a fight, so he tried to skip across the line of traffic by moving into the opposite lane. In no time, three lanes filled with obstructions. Oncoming cars could not pass. Traffic in the right turning lane had stopped because of the man standing in the middle of the road, and the left lane was obstructed by his abandoned grey bakkie.

Still enraged, the man advanced towards the driver’s side of the taxi, his sjambok raised and yelling obscenities into the air. As the light turned green for me to go, he was attempting to yank the taxi driver from his vehicle.

I have no idea how this incident played out. I hope it ended without violence. But it gave me food for thought as I drove to work.

The man’s anger was so disproportionate to the minor traffic infraction that triggered it. I imagine, however, that in his version of events, he saw himself as the victim of an injury deliberately committed against him, thereby justifying his anger and lack of forgiveness.

However, a victim stops being a victim once he is able to forgive and let go.

Many of us may remember the story of Alison Botha, which became a best-selling book a few years ago. She was a twenty-something woman who was gang raped, stabbed multiple times and left for dead in 1994. She later shared her story of how she was able to emerge from being a victim to being a victor. This journey required her to stop blaming herself for not being more vigilant as she drove home that night, and to learn to forgive her rapists.

Forgiveness is another word for mercy. The angry man in the traffic incident was unable to be merciful towards the taxi driver. So what is it that allows one person to forgive a far greater injury and another person to lash out in anger over a minor incident?

We are able to forgive only if we have received forgiveness. We require forgiveness from our families where our flawed human weaknesses seep out far more readily than in any other social setting.

But more often than not, the hardest person to forgive is not the stranger, the neighbour or the family member. The hardest person to forgive is ourselves.

We are all too aware of our failings and weaknesses. We berate ourselves for the things we cannot do well, we store up deep regrets from past mistakes, we believe the lies we tell ourselves about our own unworthiness, we refuse to accept God’s forgiveness, even when we have asked for it in prayer, at Mass and in confession.

The weaknesses we see in ourselves are often the characteristics we most detest in others. For example, I detest it when my colleagues waste valuable work time on mindless chatter, but this may be because of the times I also have been guilty of not putting in a hard day’s work.

Looking deeper, the man with the sjambok wasn’t really angry at the taxi driver. It is more likely that the taxi driver was simply a ready target for far deeper anger perhaps his disappointment over unfulfilled dreams, the people who have let him down when it really mattered, and above all, the anger at himself for failing to overcome all the blows of life.

It might be worthwhile for us to ask ourselves as we begin this Jubilee Year of Mercy and step into the New Year: which areas of my own life require God’s mercy and forgiveness? What do I need to forgive myself for? Where can I be more merciful towards myself? What flaws in myself do I recognise in others?

How about this New Year’s resolution, if you are in the habit of making them: Be merciful to yourself. Then extend that same mercy to someone else. Show restraint in your interactions with others that they do not become the targets of your own mercilessness. Let us collect mustard seeds of mercy this year.

Happy New Year!