August 13, 2006

Stories of Forgiveness

by Julianne Stokstad

The world we live in is a broken world where wars, accidents and diseases happen. We now live in a world where we are in an unending "war on terrorism." We live in a world where all of us bear wounds of injustice, betrayal and hurt from other humans' actions. How are we ever going to live together getting past the endless cycles of revenge? Forgiveness is an answer. Each year in August I focus one Sunday on forgiveness, inspired by the Worldwide Forgiveness Alliance.

We are not uninformed. We know Jesus tells us to forgive and forgive and forgive. We've heard about the wonders of South African Truth and Reconciliation in dealing with the horrors of apartheid. As Christians, each time we say the Lord's Prayer, right up there with "let us have our daily bread", a basic necessity for our physical life, we say "forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us." Forgiveness is a basic necessity of our spiritual life.

And so today I want to share three stories of about forgiveness and after, if there is time, I hope you will briefly share your insights, ideas, or problems with forgiveness.

In Saturday's San Francisco Chronicle, the name Kaczynski caught my eye and brought to mind an interesting story about forgiveness. Ten years ago FBI agents raided the cabin of Unabomber, Ted Kaczynski. It was his brother David, a social worker from New York State who tipped them off after soul-searching about whether or not to turn in his brother. He decided to contact and apologize to the victims of his brother's violence.

After the trial, driving across the country, he stopped in Salt Lake City and called one of the victims. Gary Wright owns a computer store and was severely injured by a bomb the Unabomber sent. He was in and out of surgery for three long years. David learned Gary had no hate for Ted or his family. They began to forge a friendship based on their common interest in healing. As a Christian, Gary said, "While he was being executed Jesus forgave the people who were killing him. I thought if that's the example Christ gave us, while he was suffering on the cross, then I had better think very seriously about forgiveness in my life. With God's grace, we have the ability to heal." Sadly, when word got out about his extraordinary friendship with the Unabomber's brother, friends, family, customers were quite angry harassing him about it.

Next story. My friend Evelyn, the jail chaplain, told me one. She was called by one of the officers, saying he wanted her to see this guy that had just been brought in. He needed to hear about "Mr. Big." She found a young man, in his late twenties, clearly not the kind she usually finds in jail. He was a young professional and very beat up, scratches and bruises all over his face. "What happened?" she asked. He told her how he had come home unexpectedly and found his wife in bed with a repairman. He was shocked, hurt, angry and didn't know what to do. He'd beat up the guy and the police were called. He didn't know if he could trust her again, he didn't know if he wanted to go back. He was completely distraught, unglued. And Evelyn told him about God, about forgiveness as the way out of the mess, but told him not to jump too fast to forgiveness. She doesn't know what happened to him, but knows he has a long way to go before he heals. I read a Raymond Carver story "Will You Please Be Quiet" which has a similar story line. Forgiveness comes only at the end of the story, after the man has worked through his stuff and it comes non-verbally.

Finally, here is a story about forgiveness and my father. After raising us, he and my mother divorced. He went back to his first job, a marine engineer and traveled the world seeking something he couldn't quite seem to find. For his last years, he lived in a small town in Mexico and eventually married his next-door neighbor, a woman, younger than my sister. He finally was content and told me he found peace. He was certainly a most unusual father, but we loved him and had come to terms with who he was.

Just about this time, mid-August, six years ago, I received a call from my sister that dad had been in a terrible accident. He had been run over by a bus after getting out of his pick-up truck. He lay crushed, only barely alive in a hospital in Mexico. After several days he died. The details we got were few: his truck had been stolen; the bus driver had been arrested and sent to jail; his Mexican family didn't want any contact with us.

The part that sits hard in my heart is the bus driver. I never heard anyone in our family blame him. Dad was very deaf and too stubborn to wear hearing aids. We knew how he would get something on his mind and not pay attention to where he was. We all assumed he stepped out in front of the bus because he didn't hear it coming. It appalls me to think of the effect this accident must have had on the bus driver's family, how much they all must have suffered. Where is forgiveness to be found here?

I know these stories are ambiguous, unfinished. I was tempted to tell stories of the "heroes of forgiveness", those incredible stories of miraculous forgiveness. They have the effect on me of being too much, too fast, too good to be true. In the broken areas of my life, it isn't nearly so clear and I can't seem to make progress that easily. Forgiveness happens within the messiness of the broken and hurt parts of our lives. It isn't neat or quick or easy.

For those big indigestible knots, forgiveness is more like an onion with many layers to be worked through. It isn't a one-time thing you do and then you're done with it. Real forgiveness is not at all like the cheap thing that we impose upon our children, hopefully trying to teach them to forgive. Forgiveness is a journey, a way of looking at life that brings the hope and possibility of restoration and reconciliation. Even if the relationship ought not be restored, forgiveness is good for everyone. It is the way to healing. Unfortunately it seems hardest for most perpetrators to come to realize they must forgive themselves and make amends to those they hurt. Desmond Tutu makes the excellent point that forgiveness is the only way a victim can take charge and no longer be the victim.

We are called to forgive because first God loves and forgives us. It is major work of our lives for us to let God forgive us. We've laid layer upon layer of defensive protection of cynicism and anger and it is our hard work to let them go so we can face what is real and true within ourselves. When we can receive God's forgiveness then our relationship with God is restored. And that, my friends, is the greatest joy any of us can experience, a new life I wish for us all.