A little over five years ago, on June 17, 2015, a 21-year-old white supremacist named Dylann Roof committed one of the most heinous racial killings in U.S. history when he murdered nine worshipers at the historic Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, S.C. The massacre shocked the nation and prompted dialogue about racism and racial reconciliation in the church.
One of the most poignant and unforgettable scenes occurred in the courtroom where relatives of the victims stood up, expressing both their grief and words of forgiveness to the gunman. One said, her voice quivering, “You took something precious from me . . . But God forgives you and I forgive you.” Another stated of the victims, “Their legacies will live in love, so hate won’t win.”[1]
Rev. Sharon Risher, the daughter of one of the victims, Ethel Lee Lance, has written a book about finding hope entitled For Such a Time as This: Hope and Forgiveness after the Charleston Massacre. She travels throughout the U.S. telling her story. Now, amid the national outcry over recent incidents of police brutality, she wonders whether the nation has learned anything. “I’m just weary,” she says. “Even though I know everybody is not a racist and there are people in this country that do want racial harmony, it’s just so much to get through. You wonder. How long? Just how long?”[2]
The long, sad, and heart wrenching story of racism and racial injustice in our nation raises difficult questions regarding forgiveness. What is forgiveness? What are the benefits, risks, and costs of forgiveness? How does one keep motivated to forgive when there seem to be no tangible or lasting results? What is the relationship between forgiveness, reconciliation, and justice? These are some questions I will try to address in this brief essay. Let me begin by illustrating what I have to say with the story of Jean Valjean in Les Misérables.
Some Lessons on Forgiveness in Les Misérables
Many of you have seen the musical Les Misérables. Some may have even read the novel by Victor Hugo. Much of Hugo’s story focuses on the healing power of forgiveness. The act of grace and forgiveness which the bishop shows Valjean gradually produces a deep sense of gratitude that wells up in the soul of the ex-convict, washes away feelings of anger and despair, and overflows in acts of kindness and mercy toward other characters in the story. Jean Valjean becomes a good person.
There are many elements in Hugo’s story which are instructive for us. Jean Valjean, a poor laborer, had been sentenced to prison for stealing a loaf of bread so he could feed his starving family. Released from prison after serving a brutal and lengthy prison sentence for a minor infraction of the law and then unable to find work as an “ex-con,” Valjean is a ticking time bomb. Years of mistreatment have caused deep feelings of indignation and bitterness. His hatred of the law, society, and the entire human race reveals itself in an unrelenting desire to lash out in vengeance and injure someone, no matter who.[3] Valjean finds unexpected kindness in the home of Bishop Myriel, who gives him food and a warm bed. The bishop encourages Valjean and reminds him that he is not defined by his past. But this is not enough to dispel the anger and sense of hopelessness that eats at Valjean’s soul.
Those of you who are familiar with the story know what happens next—Valjean, the ex-convict, steals the bishop’s silver tableware while he is fast asleep and slinks away into the night. What most readers do not recognize, however, is the degree to which Christian symbolism permeates this scene. In addition to the reference to the crucifix above the mantelpiece and various allusions to God’s presence, there are also veiled references to the betrayal of Jesus by his disciples. When Valjean approaches the bishop’s room, he pushes the door three times. Likewise, Peter denied Jesus three times. On the third try, Jean pushes the door harder than before. This time, “a poorly oiled hinge suddenly let[s] out a harsh and prolonged creak into the darkness,” just as rooster’s crow split the night when Peter swore even more vehemently a third time, “I do not know the man!” The narrator compares the horrible sound in Valjean’s ears to the “clear and terrible as the last trumpet on Judgment Day.” The ex-convict stops dead in his tracks, “petrified like the pillar of salt”—an obvious reference to the Old Testament story of Sodom and Gomorrah, in which Lot’s wife is turned into a pillar of salt when she shows her lack of faith in God’s goodness by “looking back” at the cities as they are being destroyed. Valjean’s theft of silver is also a reminder that Judas betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver—an act which led him to commit suicide (Matt 26:4-6; 27:3-5).
With these double allusions to betrayal and judgment Hugo indicates that the transgression which Valjean is about to commit is far more serious than a mere theft which could land him back in prison. In questioning God’s presence and goodness which he has a vague awareness of in his own conscience, he “hesitate[s] between two realms, that of the doomed and that of the saved.”[4]
When Valjean is caught with the stolen silver and brought by the police to Bishop Myriel’s house, he knows full well that the bishop has the power to condemn him, both legally and spiritually. Sullen and dejected, he expects nothing less. But the bishop utters words of forgiveness rather than judgment:
Ah, there you are! I’m glad to see you. But I gave you the candlesticks, too, which are silver like the rest and would bring you two hundred francs. Why didn’t you take them along with your cutlery?[5]
Valjean’s eyes widen, A look of astonishment which no words can describe comes across his face. Later, after a brief conversation in which the bishop convinces the police that the silver is a gift, the bishop takes two candlesticks off the mantelpiece and gives them to the trembling and bewildered ex-convict. When the police finally leave, he turns to Valjean and says in a low voice, “Do not forget, ever, that you have promised me to use this silver to become an honest man.” Then he adds:
Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil but to good. It is your soul I am buying for you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God![6]
With these words, the bishop who views himself as an “ex-sinner” saved by grace is offering the ex-convict a new life in relationship to God. The story of Les Misérables is, in part, a story of how Valjean gradually learns to “repay” the bishop’s act of forgiveness by himself becoming a loving and just man.
Four Biblical Principles of Forgiveness
What can we learn about forgiveness from this story? I would like to suggest that it helps us see four biblical principles on forgiveness specifically as it relates to the issue of racial reconciliation and justice in the church. These principles are: 1) forgiveness gives us hope and the freedom to change our history; 2) forgiveness requires lament; 3) forgiveness is costly; and 4) there cannot be true reconciliation without both forgiveness and justice.
Forgiveness Gives Hope
On the wall in my study hangs a plaque which reads: “Life is a book unwritten. You hold the pen.” Each of our lives is a story with a plot that gives it meaning and a trajectory. The famed psychiatrist Victor Frankl wrote a book entitled Man’s Search for Meaning which describes his survival in a Nazi concentration camp during the Second World War. Frankl observed that the difference between those who survived and those who died was that the survivors had “a call of a potential meaning waiting to be fulfilled.” Those who survived were able to envision a meaningful role in their future story. Our identity is bound up with our life story. The plot in our lives can take on different themes as we encounter and respond to pain and disappointment in our lives.[7]
In Hugo’s story, Jean Valjean is like many of us. He is defined by his past; filled with guilt and regret. But the bishop shows Valjean an unmerited act of grace instead of the punishment which he rightly deserves. With this sacrificial gift the bishop gives the ex-convict the freedom to change his identity. In Kathryn Grossman’s words, “everything shifts from the past to the future, from his terrible, undeserved sufferings to the expectation that he will become an inexorable fountain of love.” By rendering good for evil, the bishop also provides Valjean with a necessary example.[8] The bishop’s forgiveness therefore helps the ex-convict construct a future story that inspires hope. The candlesticks are a symbol of compassion and love. They are a reminder to Valjean of the bishop’s sacrificial forgiveness and an inspiration to pursue of life of helping others. The entire story therefore illustrates the truth that, “forgiveness requires a hopeful forgiver, but forgiveness can also inspire hope in the offender.”[9]
For Christians, this relationship between forgiveness and hope is demonstrated preeminently through the cross. Through God’s totally unmerited forgiveness which is available through Christ’s redeeming work on the cross we are given new life and a hope for the future. This relationship between forgiveness and hope is beautifully demonstrated in Jesus’ relationship with Peter. The biblical record states that when Peter denied Jesus a third time, “the Lord turned and looked at [him]” (Lk 22:61). In that one glance Peter realized the depth of his failure. But the risen Lord forgives and restores Peter; he frees Peter from his past and gives him a new identity, thereby empowering him to become a leading figure in the advancement of God’s kingdom. This is a model that Jesus gives for forgiveness in the church.
Forgiveness Requires Lament
A key factor in the process of giving and receiving forgiveness is lament. This might be described as the psychological and even spiritual practice of acknowledging and expressing the emotional pain caused by the interpersonal conflict. It involves uncovering and admitting the anger and recalling the hurt. The Psalms often poetically express the raw emotions of anger, despair, shame, and sadness. One psychologist calls this key element in the forgiving process “forgrieving.”[10]
One of the unrealistic expectations that Christians have is that the pain will go away once they forgive the person who hurt them. But, in the words of Lewis Smedes, “forgiveness does not take away our wounds; once wounded by another’s unfairness and betrayed, we are forever wounded persons. When we forgive we free ourselves from bondage to bitter memories . . . We begin the process of healing. But we do not take away the wound. Not ever. Our pain has been grafted onto our very being.”[11] Forgiveness may mean that a wrong is no longer held against the offender. It may unshackle us from our anger and shame. But it does not erase the memory of the wrong done; nor does it say that what the offender did is okay.
As a white male evangelical I am cognizant of the fact that, while I can deeply empathize with my brothers and sisters of color who experience racism, I can never fully appreciate the depth of pain they often experience. I am also aware that the topic of “forgiveness” has been wrongly used to silence voices of dissent. For many white evangelical Christians, the “solution” to the issue of race in our country and the church is simply to “forgive and forget.” Bryan Loritts, a black pastor and award-winning author writes, “Over the years, I have been challenged by white evangelicals to just get over it. Their refusal to try to see things from my ethnically different perspective is a subtle, stinging form of racial suppression. What’s more, it hinders true Christian unity within the beloved body of Christ. . . . We will never experience true Christian unity when one ethnicity demands of another that we keep silent about our pain and travails.”[12]
Forgiveness is Costly
In the story of Les Misérables, the bishop’s forgiveness does not just cost him some silver tableware and two candlesticks. Except for the exhortation to become an honest man, it is unqualified. His forgiveness entails the risk that it will be rejected. Smedes wisely states, “A true gift leaves the giver exposed. Defenses down. Out of control . . . [T]he only kind of gift anybody is ever grateful for is a gift the giver risks giving. . . . The giver does not have magic power. . . . All we can do is keep the windows open so that it can get in when it comes near.”[13]
In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus instructs us to pray for God’s forgiveness “as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matt 6:12). He then states categorically: “For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (6:14-15). Jesus ties together forgiveness from God and forgiveness of others. He even goes a step further and tells us to love our enemies! (5:44). We would like to fill in the blanks and create conditions or qualifications. But Jesus won’t allow us to do that. Why? First, an unforgiving spirit shows a lack of appreciation for what it cost God to forgive us. This is the lesson of the parable of the unforgiving servant (Matt 18:21-35).
Second, a spirit of unforgiveness and bitterness creates and feeds a destructive cycle of vengeance and hate. In a sermon on Matthew 5:43-45 entitled “Loving Your Enemies,” which he delivered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Alabama, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. describes Jesus as a “practical realist” who saw how force begets force, hate begets hate, and toughness begets toughness. People who live by the sword—both literally and figuratively—die by the sword. Only cross-shaped love has the redemptive power to break through this descending spiral which ultimately ends in personal and social destruction.
Reconciliation Requires Forgiveness and Justice
Many Christians mistakenly assume that reconciliation is possible without justice. First, we may think of reconciliation as a purely personal transaction between the individual and God, often with little or no thought given to its interpersonal or social dimensions. We may therefore think of the need for grace and forgiveness in purely spiritual terms. This blinds us to the sin of racism and racial injustice. In some cases, after deeply disturbing events such as the killing of George Floyd, white Christians may acknowledge the need to “listen and learn” about racism. But in our efforts at “racial reconciliation” we generally stop at verbal expressions of lament and repentance. As one black pastor states:
Grieve, lament, repeat. This is the well-worn path of most white folks I’ve worked with in response to racial-injustice-turned-tragedy. Most grieve with the Black and Brown folks in their midst. Some cry out to God in lament, acknowledging both their blindness and helplessness in the face of institutional racism. But this, in my experience, is where the journey stops.[14]
But repentance means more than saying “I’m sorry.” Forgiveness may be free—but true repentance is costly. There cannot be true reconciliation—both with God and in our interpersonal relationships—without both forgiveness and justice. Timothy Keller puts it in stark terms:
If a person has grasped the meaning of God’s grace in his heart, he will do justice. If he doesn’t live justly, then he may say with his lips that he is grateful for God’s grace, but in his heart he is far from him . . . [It] reveals that at best he doesn’t understand the grace he has experienced, and at worst he has not really encountered the saving mercy of God. Grace should make you just.[15]
This is what the story of Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10) teaches us. Perhaps the most shocking element in this account of Jesus’ encounter with a tax-collector comes at the end when Zacchaeus pledges to give half of his possessions to the poor and to pay back to those he defrauded four times what he took. What compels him to make such a radical decision? It is his reconciliation with God through the costly grace of Jesus who takes the risk of fellowshipping with a man branded as both a sinner and a traitor by the Jews.[16] When we put ourselves in the shoes of Zacchaeus we can begin to understand what true repentance and reconciliation look like.
Copyright©Ronald P. Hesselgrave
[1] Editorial, “Hate Won’t Win,” 1. [2] Elliott, “5 Years After Charleston Church Massacre, What Have We Learned?,” 2. [3] Hugo, Les Misérables, 92. [4] Ibid., 98-101. [5] Ibid., 103. [6] Ibid, 104. [7] McCullough, et al., To Forgive is Human, 146-47. [8] Grossman, Les Misérables, 29. [9] McCullough, et al., To Forgive is Human, 152. [10] Shults and Sandage, The Faces of Forgiveness, 92-94. [11] Smedes, A Pretty Good Person, 61-62. [12] Loritts, Insider Outsider, 28-29. [13] Smedes, A Pretty Good Person, 15 [14] Younger, “Forgiveness is Free . . . but Repentance Comes at a Cost,” 1. [15] Keller, Generous Justice, 93-94. [16] Lee, “Forgiveness and Justice: Two Keys to Reconciliation,” 1-2.
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