Flipping through channels on a Belgian hotel television evokes a sense of nostalgia for a time when such an act felt profound, offering a window to the wider world through CNN and movie channels. This is no longer the case. The globalized media landscape now features a homogeneity of news delivered in flawless English by anchors of various ethnic backgrounds on channels supposedly representing different cultural perspectives, yet all reporting essentially the same stories, perhaps with subtle, indefinable slants.
One particular channel, a Russian broadcast of an Orthodox mass, captures the author’s attention. The scene, featuring a priest with a long grey beard and a peculiar hat, flanked by two young men – one holding the scripture, the other, strikingly handsome and blonde, holding another sacred object – becomes strangely compelling. The author’s focus isn’t on the blonde man’s beauty but on his unsettlingly robotic yet restless demeanor. His eyes dart nervously around, contrasting starkly with the impassive face of the priest, creating the impression of a porcelain doll struggling with inner turmoil.
The camera shifts to the congregation, revealing a group of smiling women in headscarves and stern-faced men with earpieces, their heads swiveling mechanically. They resemble Robert Walker’s character in Hitchcock’s ”Strangers on a Train,” whose rigid head movements betray his inner tension amidst a crowd reacting to a tennis match. The presence of nervous security personnel further underscores a pervasive sense of unease and sadness within this sacred space.
This observation triggers a reflection on the author’s past practice of evening prayers, specifically the part about forgiveness. Recognizing the superficiality of uttering the word without genuine intent, the author developed a ritual of visualizing a deeply disliked person and imagining embracing them sincerely, allowing the meaning of forgiveness to penetrate beyond mere words. This mental exercise, initially fueled by animosity, ultimately led to a shift in perspective, transforming hatred into acceptance and highlighting the liberating power of forgiveness, not just for the recipient but for the one extending it.
This personal anecdote serves as a segue to a broader discussion about the ease with which abstract concepts like solidarity are embraced in public discourse but become challenging when applied to individuals. Just as forgiveness requires a face, solidarity demands a specific person or group as its object. The author challenges readers to confront the discomfort of extending solidarity to those they find difficult, suggesting that true meaning emerges from these personal struggles.
The Russian mass concludes with a ceremonial exit of the priest, his robe lifted by another attractive young man. The author, though finding the ritual peculiar, resists dismissing it as mere exoticism, prompting a renewed interest in prayer. Acknowledging that prayer might appear strange to those unfamiliar with its deeper purpose, the author distinguishes it from mere transactional requests. It’s not about placing an order and expecting guaranteed delivery, but a more complex and profound engagement. The piece ends with a call to embrace forgiveness, urging readers to release the burden of resentment and extend empathy to those around them, suggesting that many of us carry a weight of unresolved animosity that deserves to be released through forgiveness.
