Forgiveness is a door to peace and happiness.  It is a small, narrow door, and cannot be entered without stooping.  It is also hard to find.  But no matter how long the search, it can be found.  When we find the door to forgiveness, we are the only one that can open it. 

 What does forgiveness really mean?  Clearly it has little to do with human fairness, which demands an eye for an eye, or with excusing, which means brushing something aside.  Life is never fair, and it is full of things that can never be excused.

When we forgive someone for a mistake or a deliberate hurt, we still recognize it as such, but instead of lashing out or biting back we attempt to see beyond it, so as to restore our relationship with the person responsible for it.  Our forgiveness may not take away our pain -- it may not even be acknowledged or accepted -- yet the act of offering it will keep us from being sucked into the downward spiral of resentment.

 We all know bitter people.  They have an amazing memory for the tiniest detail, and they wallow in self-pity and resentment.  They catalog every offense and are always ready to show others how much they have been hurt. On the outside they may appear to be calm and composed, but inside they are about to burst with pent-up feelings.

Bitter people defend their grudges constantly: they feel that they have been hurt too deeply and too often, and that this exempts them from the need to forgive.  But it is just these people who need to forgive most of all.  Their hearts are sometimes so full of rancor that they no longer have the capacity to love.

"Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."  Familiar as it is, I often wonder whether we really mean what we say when we repeat these words, and whether we sufficiently consider their meaning.  To me, at least, they imply that once we recognize our own need for forgiveness, we will be able to forgive.  This recognition does not come to most of us easily, because it demands humility.  But isn't humility the essence of forgiveness?