Consider this/ Einfach zum Nachdenken

I was recently in a museum displaying Rodin's “The Prodigal”. It is a large bronze sculpture, with a man lifting his arms to heaven in a heart-rending gesture of regret. Sculptures don't speak, yet a comic-strip like bubble seems to hang over this one, containing the words “I am sorry, I was wrong”. While Rembrandts painting of the same Biblical story focuses on the father and his readiness to welcome the son back, Rodin hones in on the son; in fact all other actors are absent from the scene and have to be imagined. Maybe this has to do with the fact that the artist intended it as a study for his monumental work “The Gates of Hell”: in the face of death, at the end of one's life, regret and sorrow will maybe figure prominently.

How powerful a phrase, yet how difficult to utter: “I am sorry”. Even when we know we have messed up, it costs us so much to admit it, and even more to express it publically. The gripping film “Dead Men Walking” shows how long it takes Sean Penn to admit his guilt of murdering a young couple; yet when he does, with the help of Sister Helen Prejean, the weight of the world falls off his shoulders, even though he still has to face the death penalty. “I am sorry, I was wrong”- the magic word, but so rarely spoken.

After the end of apartheid in South Africa, the government decided to replace the witch hunt with a wiser and more subtle institution, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC): people were invited to give testimony about human rights violations and to request amnesty in return for having stepped forward and confessed their crime. Many took up that offer, and many did not. For the time being, it seems easier to hide with one's guilt than to admit it. May this is why we find so few politicians who admit their mistakes, and even fewer who survive their admission. Yet the strength of a man (or woman) lies exactly in their ability to face up to their mistakes and make amends.

The power of the Prodigal's story is that the simple statement of sorrow and regret opens up a new life; while the TRC only granted 859 amnesties and refused 5000 others, God is always ready to pardon. All he is looking for is honest regret. Maybe we should set up copies of Rodin's sculpture in more public places?