One Word of Repentance Outweighs a Thousand

When a person has many faults but does not know it himself, and ceases the striving of his heart, his sins come upon him like water flowing into the sea, gradually growing deep and broad. But if a person who has faults understands his errors, renounces evil and does good, his sins of themselves disappear—like a disease that has broken into a sweat, gradually healing and subsiding.

— Extract from the Sutra of Forty-two Sections Spoken by the Buddha

The philosopher Kahlil Gibran said: I would not associate with people who are always certain they are right; such people are not lovable. If a person never reflects or repents, he can hardly recognize his own faults, nor the harm he has done to others—and this allows that harm to go on endlessly.

I remember that in my middle-school days, an elderly teacher once told us in class: if you have a dispute with someone, whether you are right or wrong, say 'I am sorry' first—and the great majority of interpersonal disputes will be resolved. He said this to mediate a collective conflict between our class and another. We were young and headstrong then, and did not quite understand his heart.

In fact, many a time we simply do not realize that we are in the wrong. Perhaps a single careless word, or some thoughtless act, has done great harm to another, yet we remain unaware. Over time our dealings with others become strained indeed.

Religious people must frequently repent of their faults—repent of the errors in their words, deeds and hearts. Because our cultural genes leave little room for religion, we are greatly lacking in this spirit of self-repentance. Some people go through their whole lives without ever bowing their heads to admit they were wrong.

This cultural inheritance is one of the greatest vices of Chinese tradition. It is why our people so easily fall prey to populism and erupt in mob violence like the Cultural Revolution. We regard resistance to the bitter end—even when clearly wrong—as heroism and backbone.

We are used to offering all manner of excuses for our conduct, but quite unused to repenting of our faults. In truth, one word of repentance outweighs a thousand. After one person has borne a grudge against another, excessive excuses do not dissolve the resentment; they only entangle it more deeply. Yet a single sincere word of repentance can make the hatred hard as ice in many a heart vanish into nothing. Few people hunt a penitent to the death, but many deeply detest specious quibbling.

Repentance is a good habit. At the close of each day, one ought to repent of that day's conduct,