Mixed media art by Ruthieonart
One of life’s most fascinating mysteries, to me, is forgiveness and reconciliation.
I’m not talking about the “I’m sorry I borrowed your shirt without asking and then ruined it” sort of reconciliation, although that’s important. (With three daughters, I imagine it’s going to be very important at our house.) I’m talking the sort of forgiveness that can, but rarely does, emerge out of this pain: “Because of something I did, your life will never be the same.”
I just read an amazing article in The New Yorker, “The Life After: Fifteen years after the genocide in Rwanda, the reconciliation defies expectations.” I already knew about the nearly million Tutsi people who had been massacred in the course of 100 days, starting in April of 1994. But until I read this article, I didn’t know about the reconciliation that has taken place.
Today, the article says, Rwanda is “one of the safest and the most orderly countries in Africa.” Rwanda is also “the only nation where hundred of thousands of people who took part in mass murder live intermingled at every level of society with the families of their victims.”
Can you imagine? Can you imagine walking down the street each day and regularly passing by a man who murdered your brother or husband, or raped your sister and killed her baby? It seems impossible.
What has made it possible, though, is Rwanda’s decision to convene a system of outdoor community courts, known as gacaca, for the more than million genocide cases that were adjudicated last year. Here’s how the article’s author, Philip Gourevitch, describes the new court system:
Gacaca was designed to reward confessions, because the objective was not only to render rudimentary justice and mete out punishment but also to allow some emotional catharsis by establishing a collective accounting of the truth of the crimes in each place where they were committed.
The system isn’t perfect, of course. There are stories of corruption, and some people who are skeptical of the sincerity of the confessions and pleas for forgiveness. But still. It’s astounding.
Reconciliation is fascinating—until it reaches into your life
In the first sentence of this post, I used the word “fascinating” to describe the act of forgiveness and reconciliation. I realize it’s an odd word to use, but that’s how I feel—at least if I step back and look at the process as an observer.
What’s fascinating is how counter-intuitive and unnatural it is to go through the process of forgiveness. When I’ve been hurt or wronged, every part of my being tells me to put up walls and protect my wounds. When I’m the one who has hurt or wronged someone else, every part of my being tells me to put up walls and protect my pride. That’s what comes naturally: putting up walls.
But when I manage to live this radical forgiveness and reconciliation, even in a small way, it’s not fascinating. It’s mind-blowing and life-changing. (I’ve written a fair amount about how that’s played out in my life, particularly in the aftermath of my divorce. Here are two posts you can check out if you aren’t familiar with that story: Welcome to another day to practice grace and Two girls with all kinds of parents.)
I grew up singing about “grace” at church, but I didn’t really get what it was about until I was in college. Now my basic understanding of grace—God’s grace—is that it’s complete forgiveness and acceptance that you don’t deserve and could never do anything to earn.
There really is no way to “make it up to someone” after murdering their beloved family member. That’s why John Newton, who was captain of a slave trade ship in the mid-1700s, called it AMAZING grace, and likened it to inexplicable miracles like being lost and then found, or being blind and then suddenly regaining your sight.
Why does the really good stuff have to be so hard?
All I know, is that while it sounds very poetic and lovely, it’s HARD! Actually, it’s almost impossible. Check this out:
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. — Colossians 3:12-14
My first reaction? Yes! That’s how the world should be. My second reaction? WAAAH! I CAN’T DO IT!!
But then I see small ways that I have. And I think about the people in Rwanda, living side by side with the very people who devastated their lives. And I know, without a doubt, that there is no more powerful force in this world than the relief and utter freedom that come with true reconciliation. Not only is it powerful, but it’s within our grasp, as average, everyday people going about our lives. So I will try to live it, once again.