THE CHOICE OF FORGIVENESS
© Rev. Dr.
Gary Blaine
August 3, 2008
University
Congregational Church
Reading: Matthew 18: 21-22 (J.B. Phillips)
Then Peter approached him with the
question, “Master, how many times can my brother wrong me and I must forgive him? Would seven times we enough?”
“No,” replied Jesus, “not seven times,
but seventy times seven!”
I
made the decision to preach on the theme of forgiveness, in part, as a response
to the murders that took place last Sunday at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian
Universalist Church. As you know, a man
entered the Sunday service, which was being led by the children and youth, and
managed to fire two blasts from his shotgun.
Two died and seven others were wounded.
Our first response must be sorrow for the loss of life and the trauma
that such tragedies inflict upon children.
Our hearts go out to them as we fearfully pray that such a terror could
never happen to us. I cannot imagine the
pastoral burden their minister must face in the years ahead. I pray for their wholeness and courage.
Our
second response must be thanksgiving for the members of the church who risked
their lives to stop a man who was determined to kill as many people as he could
before police killed him. We must thank
the members of Second Presbyterian Church who immediately sprung into
action. Their congregation was gathered
next store. I understand that they
rushed over to their UU neighbors to offer comfort, solace, and water. Denominational labels finally do not matter
in the end, when human life is struggling to survive and fear abounds. Local and national relief will be offered to
aid the bereavement process and the recovery of an identity that is not
shrouded in horror.
I
dare say that the third response must be forgiveness. This is the hard part. Our hearts readily burst with sadness and
love for the members and friends of that congregation. We will offer anything we can for the healing
process. But to forgive a madman who
took two lives and introduced such pain and despair on these people is much
harder. We are not inclined to do
it. We are more prone to anger and
fear. A friend of mine in Tulsa told me
of a Unitarian Universalist who declared this past week that she will never go
back to her church again. She is too
frightened.
As
hard as it is to hear this, I must say that there will be no end to the grief
process, no fullness of healing, and no wholeness without forgiveness. We begin to conquer the fear when we face the
evil before us and offer it forgiveness.
Unlike the spontaneous outflow of empathy, the act of forgiveness is a
choice we make. It is not so much a
movement of the heart as it is a movement of the will.
Dr.
Joanna North has written the following definition of forgiveness:
“When unjustly hurt by another,
we forgive when we overcome the resentment toward the offender, not by denying
our right to the resentment, but instead by trying to offer the wrongdoer
compassion, benevolence, and love; as we give these, we as forgivers, realize
that the offender does not necessarily have a right to such gifts.”[1]
This does
not suggest that we do not feel pain or sorrow.
It does not suggest that the actions of the offender are anything but
unfair, unjust, and wrong. There is no
suggestion here that the offender’s behavior can be explained away or that he
or she is immune from legal consequences for wrongful behavior. It is never a question of whether the
offender deserves forgiveness.
Forgiveness does mean that we are
giving up our right to be defined by our anger and pain. Forgiveness means that we are giving up the
right to define our relationship with the offender as one of rage, pain and
retribution. These can no longer be the
filters by which we have any relationship with the offender or society at
large. In the words of Robert Enright,
“In spite of everything that the offender has done, we are willing to treat him
or her as a member of the human community.
That person is worthy of the respect due to every human being who shares
our common humanity.”[2] We will treat that person with respect and
dignity, even if they spurn the offer of forgiveness. Remember that the offender’s rights or right
responses are not the issue here. The
challenge for us is our own tendering of mercy and grace. In other words, my response to you is not
going to be determined by what you did to me, and all of the pain that you
caused me. It is not going to be the foundation of any possible future
relationship with you. It is not going
to be the veil through which I must now see the world.
Forgiveness is giving up any claims
that I think the offender owes me. Now
again, I am not saying that the offender might not have to make financial
restitution for damages, or serve time in prison for the violation of civil
laws. I am saying that on a personal
level I am not expecting that person to grovel before me, treat me with
deference, or in any way assume a subservient role.
I am human enough to hope that the
offender would rise up to the fullness of his or her humanity and claim responsibility
for his or her behavior. A deeply felt
apology would be appreciated. I could
hope for that, but I do not think I should expect it. There are some people who are not morally or
mentally capable of that, which may be the root cause of their offense in the
first place.
I wonder about the man who raped one
of my daughters when she was just eight years old. She was attending a friend’s overnight
birthday party. Her friend’s dad had a
photography studio in the back of his house.
The girls went in for some photos.
As the other girls we leaving he invited her to pose for more
pictures. Within a matter of moments he
assaulted her. We did not learn of this
until many years later.
I have often wondered what I would say
or do to this man if I could ever find him.
But the greater wonder is my child who held this dark secret inside her
soul for so many years. Like every child
she sometimes makes decisions I wish she had not. But deep down inside she is a whole person
who loves her family intensely and has a great sense of humor. I see her growing and making good and
responsible choices for her future.
Somehow or another she has moved past that man and his degrading and
despicable act. She has not allowed it
to become the defining moment of her life.
Rather, her own daughter and college education are the stones with which
she is building her future. “I just
decided,” she told me, “that I am not going to let that destroy my life.” That is the stuff of forgiveness.
By the way, I have her permission to
tell this story.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote
these words in his book, Strength to
Love:
“How do we love our
enemies? First, we must develop and
maintain the capacity to forgive. He who
is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. It is impossible even to begin the act of
loving one’s enemies without the prior acceptance of the necessity, over and
over again, of forgiving those who inflict evil and injury upon us. It is also necessary to realize that the
forgiving act must always be initiated by the person who has been wronged, the
victim of some great hurt, the recipient of some tortuous injustice, the
absorber of some terrible act of oppression.”[3]
Regardless
of our progressive Christian beliefs and practices, alongside our commitment to
reason and faith, in addition to our ideals of tolerance and brotherhood, we
all finally come back to forgiveness.
Indeed, after all of his lessons, miracles, parables, and prayers Jesus’
final words include, “Father, forgive them.”
Reinhold
Niebuhr wrote:
“Nothing that is worth doing
can be achieved in our lifetime:
therefore we must be saved by hope.
Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any
immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous can be
accomplished alone; therefore we must be saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the
standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore we must be saved by the final form
of love which is forgiveness.”[4]
Grace, or
love, is the network of forgiveness. And
if we work that network long enough we soon realize that the forgiveness we
give to and receive from one another cannot be distinguished from the
forgiveness of God.
So
I would offer Mr. Jim Adkisson of Knoxville, Tennessee forgiveness for the
murders of Greg McKendry and Linda Kraeger and the wounding of seven others at
the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist Church. So the Amish offered forgiveness to Charles
Roberts for the murders of Marian Fisher, Anne Mae Stoltzfus, Naomi Rose
Ebersol, and sisters Mary Liz and Lena Miller in September of 2006. I shall never forget the words of the oldest
girl, Marian, “Shoot me, and leave the others alone.” The second oldest, Barbie, who managed to
survive, asked to be shot next.
Remember,
forgiveness means the decision to give up the right of revenge and to replace
hatred, bitterness, and resentment with love.
I cannot offer forgiveness on behalf of the victims. That is their work. And I know that it is the most difficult of
love’s labor. Forgiveness does not erase
the pain of loss or suffering.
Forgiveness will not make the nightmares go away. My daughter told me that in her conscious
mind she has forgiven her rapist. But
when she has nightmares about him, in her dream she kills him. She is still working hard to bring
forgiveness down to the core of her being.
Her grace and her work remind me of how much better a Christian I might
be and how large the task of forgiveness looms before me. I pray for her courage, her resilience, her
humor, and her love. Indeed, how foolish
I have been. May God forgive my
stubborn heart.
Finis
[1] Dr. North’s definition is quoted in Forgiveness is a Choice, by Robert D. Enright (Washington: American Psychological Association, 2001), 24.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength to Love (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1963), 49
[4] Reinhold Niebuhr, The Irony of American History (New York: Scribners, 1952)