Introduction: Exile & Homecoming
Derek Poole

From the Ardoyne Road...
Norman Hamilton

From the Director
David Porter

Exile and Homecoming
David McMillan

Be Careful What You Wish For
Gareth Higgins

Bonfire Reflections
Alwyn Thomson

Rights, Relationships and Responsibilities
Kelvin McCracken

Wilson On Suffering
Alan Wilson

Poems

Faith and Practice - Debbie Watters
Ruth Hutchinson

Forgiveness
Janet Morris

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FORGIVENESS

The article which follows is based on a short talk which I gave at a seminar on forgiveness in July 2000. It was an interesting occasion. The main speaker was a former New York ‘cop’ who had been severely disabled as a result of being shot in the course of his job. Speaking from his wheelchair, with frequent pauses to suck air from his ventilator, he outlined his struggles to deal with what had happened to him - and his choice (in Christ) to forgive the perpetrators. No one could deny the authenticity of his experience - the evidence was before us - but reactions to his story differed. Some were so inspired by what he had to say that they were following him around different venues, just to hear again how God had worked in his life. Others were very angry, feeling that his message belittled the suffering of victims in N.Ireland. It was obvious that this was and is a subject which rouses deep feelings and that it continues to be much disputed in this community. The following represents one N.Irish Christian’s initial attempts to explore some of the issues around a subject which takes us to the heart both of the gospel and of human relationships. In writing it, I was indebted to the work of Dan Allender who works with victims of abuse and Miroslav Volf who writes out of experience of the abuses of war.

What is forgiveness? There are many possible definitions, but one by Allender offers as good a starting point as any. ‘To forgive is to cancel a debt in order to open a door of opportunity for repentance and restoration.’

What does he mean? The debts are the hurt, harm and injury which we suffer from others and which we inflict on ourselves. As we all know, when significant hurt occurs, relationships become strained. Sometimes they break and in some cases that breaking may result in violence. If communion or community is to be restored, this brokenness needs to be dealt with realistically. People need to change, relationships need to be redeemed and restored - to the measure that they can be in a fallen world where things will never be perfect. So forgiveness is at the heart of how we live our lives in relationship with others and with ourselves. It affects the quality of our friendships, our family life, our work relationships, our churches, our wider community. If any measure of community is to be established in our country, then forgiveness is a key part of the complex of things that need to happen when relationships go seriously wrong, as they so manifestly have done among us.

But this is not easy. On the contrary, it’s very hard; it’s costly and seems to fly in the face of our sense of natural justice. When serious harm has been inflicted on us or those close to us, forgiveness seems such a scandal, an outrage, a flouting of divine and human justice. How can we even begin to forgive some of the atrocities we’ve seen in N.Ireland? Indeed some may ask: how dare we? Why should we cancel the debt? It’s not going to magic limbs back onto maimed bodies or bring loved ones back from the dead. Why should we open doors of opportunity for those who’ve hurt us? Indeed, why should we want them anywhere near us? If we forgave, wouldn’t we be denying justice, wouldn’t we be trivialising the wounds of the victims? Is not forgiveness really just a weak denial of wrongs suffered, a sweeping under the carpet of heinous crimes, a useless manifestation of a sentimental, appeasing desire to have peace at any price - a pretend peace which delivers nothing and laughs in the face of our communal wounds?

These are important and painful questions, which go to the heart of our moral centres and to the wounds that we carry. They also go to the heart of the Christian gospel. They ask us how we can relate the grace of God, which reaches out to the offender in embrace, to His holy and uncompromising justice. God judges; God requires repentance before salvation can be entered into - of these facts we are persuaded. But we seem prone to forget that God is also the One who, in grace and love, takes the initiative in moving toward those who have offended and hurt Him. His desire for community, for restoration of relationship with His enemies, is so strong that He makes it possible at the highest cost to Himself: the death of His own son. God, the offended one, moves toward us, the offenders, in redemptive love and kindness - while we are yet sinners. This is amply illustrated in the parable of the prodigal son. Where was the Father? Sitting at home, lines of resentment etched on his face, determined that the son who had so grievously injured Him, would never darken his door again - certainly not without abject apology? No, the Father was out on the road, heedless of his dignity and status as head of household, searching the horizon for a glimpse of his rebellious son and embracing him before the lad had had a chance even to open his mouth and deliver his prepared speech of confession and contrition.

This is an extravagant love which many of us in the N.Irish church have not experienced anywhere deeply enough. This is a grace and an embrace that has not been embodied enough in our church communities. Perhaps this is why we often lack the grace to let go of grudges and past hurts (whether in our personal or community lives) because our experience of grace (from God and one another) has been so shallow. In our relationships with others, we want to put justice first, to allocate blame, to demand repentance first, failing to see that if God had done the same with us, there’d have been no hope of gaining the salvation that we so cherish. Convinced of the necessity of the offender’s prior repentance, we often forget the reality of the God whose desire for relationship with the offender is so strong that He moves toward him or her to see what may be possible. As Volf says, “God puts grace first in order that justice may be done.” Indeed, Allender and Volf both argue that it is the will to forgiveness, which is part of a larger will toward community, which offers the best hope of doing justice and creating genuine peace between people by confronting hurts realistically and beginning to deal with them. This will always be risky, for such offers may be rejected. In fact, Allender argues that such offers of mercy will result either in a repentance which leads towards justice and reconciliation, or in an intensification of the original evil. He sees this as part of the work of God in exposing sin and evil so that they may be more clearly seen and dealt with.

However, this move towards the offended does not in any way deny the necessity for change. Without repentance, a turning away from wrongdoing, a realistic renegotiation of relationship and attention to the needs of the injured, there can be no true reconciliation, no lasting peace between people. Forgiveness, the cancelling of debts, the letting go of revenge into the hands of God who will repay aright, is not an end in itself. It only makes sense as one of the many steps towards the restoration of community between people. It’s a choice, a risk that creates space for movement in the direction of the other. It’s not a denial that wrongdoing has taken place, a pretence that all’s well when it isn’t. On the contrary, forgiveness can only ever happen if our rage is acknowledged and expressed - to ourselves, to God, to those who can listen redemptively to our pain. It can only happen if we truly mourn what we have lost, weep over what has been ripped away from us. And it can also only happen if we are prepared to look at our own wrongdoing, at the sin that lurks in our own hearts. It is not something that can ever be forced. In Christian terms such things become possible when we stand on our experience of the extravagant, gracious, redemptive love that God has lavished upon us. From the security of His arms we can express our rage, weep our tears and look at ourselves - over and over again, for as long as it takes. For this work will never be entirely finished, nor will we ever do it perfectly, but if we are recipients of God’s grace, then we need to be its agents also. Volf writes this: ‘Inscribed on the very heart of God’s grace is the rule that we can be its recipients only if we do not resist being made into its agents; what happens to us must be done by us. Having been embraced by God, we must make space for others in ourselves and invite them in - even our enemies’.

This inviting in of others is not absent from our Christian communities in N.Ireland - indeed some Christians here have shown an astonishing capacity to forgive those who have grievously wounded them. Yet, in our churches and our community life generally, we often seem more devoted to building and maintaining barriers than stepping across them. We need to listen again to the gospel, to meditate deeply on the gracious movement of God towards us as sinners, to sit again at the foot of the Cross where justice and mercy meet and possibilities of new life are made present in the offer of new relationship.

Janet Morris has been involved with ECONI since its inception. She is a part-time teacher and lecturer at Belfast Bible College and North Down Institute.