A Man’s Secret Weapon:  The Apology

One Friday night, I woke up to the sound of yelling. I fell asleep on the couch watching tv while trying my best to wait on our two oldest boys to get home from a youth event at church.  My wife woke me up and told me to go to bed as she offered to wait up for the boys.  Shortly after midnight, I woke up to the sound of yelling.  I walked into the living room to find my wife trying to play referee between the two boys arguing.  At church, my oldest thought it would be funny to pull the chair out from under his younger brother.  It embarrassed him as he fell to the floor on his rear.  I’m sure everyone laughed.  He even laughed to try and hide the embarrassment.  Although, he did not laugh the second and third time it happened.  In fact, after the third time, he punched his older brother in the face.  He said, “it was a punch, but with an open fist…but not a slap.”  Whatever that means.  He hit his brother. 

The youth pastor had to intervene.  When I walked in the living room, I could see that Ian, the oldest, had a look on his face that said, “what did I do wrong?”  Typical teenage boy strategy.  Play dumb.  The younger brother, Ayden, was still trying to bring his blood back down from a boil.   I turned to my wife and asked for the rundown.  Both boys began talking.  I loudly said, “STOP.”  I turned back to my wife.  She told me the gist of what happened.  I looked at Ian and asked, “What’s your job?”  He replied, “To protect my brother.”  I asked, “Did you?”  He said, “No, I didn’t.”  I turned to Ayden and very sternly said, “Look at me in the eyes.  You do not ever hit your brother in the face.  Do you understand me?”  He said, “yes sir.”  I then said, “Go to bed.” 

If you’ve ever seen the show The Mandalorian (of course you’ve seen The Mandalorian!), my favorite character is Kuiil played by Nick Nolte.  Every time Kuiil is finished with a conversation he ends it by saying, “I have spoken.”  This is his way of letting you know its over.  No more conversation.  No more arguing.  No more debate.  Its over.  Not every conversation with your sons needs to be a Kuiil moment, but some do.  This was one of them.  The next morning, I walked up to my boys and said, “Take a shower and get your clothes on.  We’re going to the youth pastor’s house.”  I explained that they would be apologizing for their behavior the night before. 

Ayden immediately began practicing his apology over and over and even asked if he could run it by me.  It was pretty good too.  He said it was immature, that they were there to help him lead which they didn’t do last night, and it would never happen again.  He was so nervous.  Ian was too but did not offer to share what he would say.  On the drive over, Ayden asked, “Dad, you think he’s mad at us?”  I said, “No I don’t.  He’s a youth pastor and he is used to dealing with this stuff.  I’m just making sure he never deals with it from my sons again.”  I was proud of my boys for taking ownership that day.  On the way back from their apology, I told them that I would never want something like this to happen, but I was glad it did.  They got to learn an important lesson:  the power of an apology. 

When I was around ten years old, my dad taught me this same lesson.  He made me apologize to my friend’s mom.  We were at his house and his mom was upset with us for some reason.  I do not remember why she was upset, but when it came to knuckleheads like us, I am sure she had a good reason.  She told us that if we did not straighten up she was going to take our BB guns away.  That was crazy talk.  You can do anything you want but leave our guns alone.  Our BB guns were everything to us.  We spent entire weekends together going through thousands upon thousands of BB’s.  We shot everything.  As we walked off into the woods, I told my friend, “If she tries to take my gun, I’ll just tell my dad.”  I don’t know what I meant by that, but my friend later told his mom what I said.  As it turned out, I did not need to tell my dad.  She made the call to him for me.  When I got home my dad had a Kuiil moment with me as he told me I needed to pick up the phone and call her with an apology.  I cried the entire time I dialed the number and continued to cry as I could barely mutter the words, “I’m sorry for what I said,”

Why was it so hard to apologize? 

Unfortunately for most of us men, we see an apology as a sign of weakness.  Admitting you are wrong is like waving the white flag.  And for us, surrender is always the last option.  The manly thing to do is always keep fighting.  We find strength in the fight and in standing our ground.  We should not have to apologize for who we are.  We men use phrases like these to justify this stance:

“Well, this is who I am.”

“If you don’t like it, that’s your problem. “

“I ain’t apologizing for nuth’n”

“What do you want? An apology?”

“Suck it up.”

“Time will heal all wounds.”

That last one is my favorite.  This is the one that I have heard the most.  Time sometimes can heal wounds, but the healing first begins with an apology.  Men, we have viewed the apology with the wrong mindset.  It is not a weakness, but rather a strength.  Men who cannot apologize are not strong.  Rather, it is a tremendous indication of insecurity.  The opposite of strength.  If you have ever issued a genuine apology to someone then you understand that there is such a strength and release that comes with it.  Although the apology is directed at someone else, healing often also takes place with the one who said it. 

“I’m sorry” can be the same as saying, “I am strong enough, secure enough, and MAN enough to take control of this situation.  I’m going to own this, and I am asking you to forgive me.”  Wow!  It sounds very masculine when you look at it this way.  If you are a man who never apologizes, I want you to realize that everyone else around you is not seeing strength.  Men naturally have a hard time showing vulnerability and are masters of masking their inner self.  When we live a lifestyle of holding everything in and never showing remorse or humility to those we care about, we are not only hurting those we do life with but are actually putting our insecurities on full display.  The very thing we think we are hiding is now clearly defining us in full view of our loved ones.  Wouldn’t it be easier for everyone if we just got it out? 

I am asking, as men and dads, that we begin not only teaching our sons this secret weapon but begin by modeling it.  A secret weapon is usually used as a last line of defense.  You don’t really want to show you have that weapon unless it is absolutely necessary.  Usually, only out of desperation, do you bring out the secret weapon.  I call the apology our secret weapon only because this is the way men have treated it.  It should not be a secret or our last line of defense.  In our true strength, it should be our first line of defense; the first thing we pull out of the holster.  All the other weapons we have will be even more effective when the apology comes first. 

Disciplining our sons comes naturally for most fathers.  We usually have no problem in immediately jumping on our boys about something they have done wrong.  Some do it out of love while others out of anger.  Either way, we speak up.  Dads, as you are disciplining your sons, take every opportunity you can to teach them lessons.  Look for an opportunity to teach them the lesson of the apology.  If you are raising boys, an opportunity should arise very soon!

I Have Spoken.