I was always under the impression that if someone wished to be forgiven for a trespass, that person first had to redress the wrongs that he (or she) committed. In other words, a person had to prove that he (or she) was truly contrite, through actions, before that person could be forgiven.
To the best of my knowledge, merely apologizing for a wrong is not grounds for forgiveness -- except in family matters.
An apology is a start on contrition, but it's not the be-all/end-all act itself -- unless you are six years old and apologizing to your mother.
Alas, this seems to no longer be the case.
I have no earthly idea how many critters I have run across in my Law Enforcement career who have attempted to tell me -- some most eloquent in their fervor -- that they apologize for whatever it was they did that got me involved.
And it's not just criminal critters. Bill Clinton's apology for lying about his affair with Ms. Lewinsky was most poetic; and a casual search can find any number of politicians apologizing for various and sundry excesses.
Entertainers are another group who can frame the most beautiful of apologies for the most sordid of acts.
Maybe I'm cynical, but I always have to wonder if they're apologizing for the act, or for getting caught.
More often than not in these modern days, I get the impression that folks are sorry they got caught in the act, rather than being sorry for the act.
The old saw about leopards and their spots is still as viable today as it ever was.
All of which brings us to Mr. Jim Zumbo.
Ted Nugent -- and others -- believe that since Mr. Zumbo has issued an apology he should be welcomed back into the fold. That Mr. Zumbo is "upgraded".
Folks, an apology is simply words. Nothing more. And until your actions prove them, the words, "I'm sorry" mean less than a container of warm rodent expectorant.
Deeds, not words, lead to redemption. Deeds. I get enough pretty pillow promises from politicians, movie stars and their ilk; I am not interested in hearing more words.
When Mr. Zumbo begins performing his acts of contrition, then -- and only then -- will I even consider forgiving his trespass.
Until such time as performs such deeds his words -- no matter how practiced, nor rehearsed, nor eloquent they be -- are merely the promises of a leopard as regards his spots, or the words of a man who is sorry he got caught.
So. Until I start seeing some acts on Mr. Zumbo's part that demonstrate to me -- through deeds -- that he is truly repentant, there shall be no forgiveness on my part.
Thus endeth the lesson.