My father and I had a most interesting conversation last week, made even more memorable because he was recovering in his hospital bed. I don’t want to flood you with details, dear reader, but here’s the succinct summary. He was involved in an accident that led to a dislocated shoulder and required surgery. He was nicely recovering when I took my turn to talk to him.
Our topic was about repairing. We started with his shoulder, and he said that he was going to regain full use of his arm. He told me about the large bruise on his forehead, but he did not lose consciousness. There was absolute recovery of his cognitive and mental abilities (Translation: he will continue to rip through the crossword puzzles in the morning.) Then we veered to the subject of “restitution,” which is a pretty heavy word because of the gravitas of its meaning. It means an act of making good or compensating for loss, damage or injury. It means a return to or restoration to the previous state of being. The young man who was involved in the accident had agreed to shoulder a hefty chunk of the hospital bills. By doing so, he and his family were participating in the restoration … of many things. They were helping to restore my father back to health. They were also restoring their trust in themselves and their capacity to correct a wrong that was made. The ones who partake in such restoration are strongly protecting their dignity and integrity. It is difficult, but it is worth it, because restitution makes one grow up.
A fictional, yet lucid example of restitution always makes me smile. There was once a man who had a gleaming new red car. He was very proud of it. One day, his good friend asked to borrow the car – and the man said ‘yes.’ But oh no, oh dear … the good friend met an accident and the driver’s door had an ugly gash. Instead of whining and calling in a favor (“Migo bitaw ta!”), the friend replaced the front door from the original maker of the car (not chop-chop), had the entire car repainted and even added a new radio. And the car owner exclaims: “Would you like to crash my other cars too?”
There have also been instances of larger scale restitution. In August of 2012, the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York ordered three defendants to pay $54.9 million in restitution to the South African government for illegally taking lobsters from the country’s waters over a five-year period. It is the largest ever restitution awarded by a US court under one of the oldest American conservation laws, the Lacey Act. In February of this year, the Irish Prime Minister, Enda Kenny formally apologized in behalf of the state for its role in the Magdalene Laundries. From 1922-1996, some 10,000 women were forced into unpaid manual labor in laundries run by Roman Catholic nuns. More than a quarter of those had been sent there by the Irish state. The long road to restitution is beginning now.
The concept of restitution and restoration is very Christ-centered and Christ-inspired. It tells us that relationships, reputation and self-image do not need to be shattered by mistakes or sin. Love and commitment to change really are the life-giving alternatives. These allow us to continue with hope and persevere in the journey.
I think of restitution now, now that the whole country is ablaze with the pork barrel shame and scandal. The legal process has already begun and investigations have named notable names. A fair and timely outcome not only redistributes our country’s resources to the poor and marginalized. It also gives the guilty a chance to redeem themselves. It also tells the world that Filipinos participate in measures to restore their trust in their public officials. May it begin now.