The Archbishop of Canterbury has been saying some interesting things about forgiveness this week. He told the Radio Times: "I think the 20th century saw such a level of atrocity that it has focused our minds very, very hard on the dangers of forgiving too easily... because if forgiveness is easy it is as if the suffering doesn't really matter". In this Easter message, he states that it's not fair to expect victims of abuse, rape or torture to turn the other cheek with ease.
I totally agree. All too often we sanitize and simplify forgiveness, when in fact it's an arduous, exhausting task -- messy, risky and unpredictable.
As a result of Dr. Rowan Williams putting forgiveness back on the agenda this week, I have given six interviews for six different UK radio stations. On two occasions I was pitted against victims of an appalling crime, both of whom hardly surprisingly struggle with the very notion of forgiveness. The first was Colin Knox, whose son Rob Knox was stabbed to death in London in 2008. At the trial, the convicted man, Karl Bishop, refused to hear impact statements from Rob Knox's parents and, as reported in the Times, "swaggered into court smiling at three friends in the public gallery... and smirked as he was sentenced."
The second victim was Carol Quinn, whose daughter and two grandchildren were murdered in 2000 by Phillip Austin -- her daughter's husband and the father of the children. Carol Quinn had the horrifying task of walking into the house and discovering the bodies. The pain is as raw as the day it happened and indeed amplified by the fact that Phillip Austin, who received three life sentences, has never shown remorse.
In both radio shows the presenter suggested that forgiveness might be good for these two, still very traumatized parents, and then handed over to me. Of course, I didn't go there. I hate the notion that anyone should be coerced into forgiving. Forgiveness should never be an obligation. It is a personal choice and not necessarily right for everyone. Indeed, to expect victims to forgive simply re-victimizes and heaps yet more guilt on them. Also, forgiveness is not black and white -- to say you can't forgive doesn't necessarily mean you are eaten up by bitterness and rage. Colin Knox didn't sound in the least bit bitter -- just desperately sad.
When Colin Knox and Carol Quinn describe the lack of remorse and acute disrespect demonstrated by these two offenders, it's easy to see why both parents feel that forgiveness is undeserved. Certainly no one deserves forgiveness -- it is a gift from one person to another and only the sufferer is qualified to make that decision.
Some contest that forgiveness is interpersonal, a contractual relationship between the victim and the perpetrator, and that without repentance or remorse, you may be able to free yourself of vengeful anger, but it isn't really forgiveness. As the professor of philosophy at Boston University, Charles L. Griswold, concludes, "forgiveness is neither just a therapeutic technique nor simply self-regarding in its motivation; it is fundamentally a moral relation between self and other."
Terry Waite, for instance, who never had an opportunity to hear an apology from his kidnappers, describes his forgiveness as incomplete. For Griswold unilateral forgiveness is imperfect. Forgiveness must include, as a bare minimum, the giving up of revenge by the victim, and an assumption of responsibility by the offender. Anything less is either excuse or pardon.
So what of those who have suffered at the hands of perpetrators now dead, or unwilling or incapable of showing remorse? Are such perpetrators never deserving of forgiveness?
Those who believe in unilateral forgiveness would claim that forgiveness has nothing to do with the perpetrator and that if you wait for remorse you might be waiting for ever. According to author, Tony Wilkinson:
"The perpetrator may rarely understand what drove them, and their lack of understanding may prevent them from feeling or expressing remorse, but why does it matter? This process is part of your inner life, your inner journey and doesn't depend on them, which is why insisting on remorse before forgiveness put the power in the wrong hands."
There are in fact many people I've met, who, despite the perpetrator not expressing remorse, say they forgive. For instance Rebecca DeMauro, whose daughter was brutally murdered, explains how she decided to forgive following a long process of tormented grief which left her depleted and looking for another way forward. She says, "I knew if something didn't change I would be in the graveyard, dead from a broken heart, next to my little daughter."
In this sense forgiveness means not allowing the pain of the past dictate the path of the future; understanding that life is morally complicated, people behave in despicable ways, and that some things are inexplicable. At its most basic forgiveness is about acceptance and letting go.
So why might Rebecca DeMauro, and others who have never received an apology, choose to forgive? Is it because they recognize something distorted and broken in the perpetrator that might be traced back to childhood? A belief perhaps that a child's moral growth can be thrown off course by trauma and deprivation, storing up problems for society that explode when these children become angry adults. I have noticed that people who forgive tend to look upon those who have committed atrocious acts not as evil monsters but -- to borrow a phrase from Shakespeare -- as "ruined pieces of nature". And, in that space of brokenness, some find room for forgiveness.
Follow Marina Cantacuzino on Twitter: www.twitter.com/ForgivenessProj
Heide Banks: Could You Forgive This? Liz Securro's Road to Forgiveness
Shasta Nelson, M.Div.: 6 Ways to Bring Balance to Your Relationships
Thanks for this piece --
A few of the stories which resonate with many of the comments below are:
Father Michael Lapsley (http://theforgivenessproject.com/stories/michael-lapsley-south-africa/)
whose hands were blown off by a letter bomb when he became a target of the South African
apartheid government.
Rami Elhanan (http://theforgivenessproject.com/stories/ghazi-briegeith-rami-elhanan-israel/) whose daughter was killed in a suicide bomb attack in Jerusalem
Katy Hutchison (http://theforgivenessproject.com/stories/katy-hutchison-ryan-aldridge-canada/) whose husband was beaten to death while checking on a party being thrown by his neighbor’s son.
And Susan (http://theforgivenessproject.com/stories/susan-england/) who was abused as a child and who says "Forgiveness can allow abuse to thrive."
I believe the only person you need to forgive is yourself. The feelings that can result from being a victim can be hard to handle. Hating someone....wanting to kill that person....wanting revenge...these are strong feelings that perhaps you have never felt before.They can make you feel guilty for feeling them. But they are normal feelings. So forgive yourself for feelings that make you feel guilty, ,that you have never felt before, that shock you because they are not normal for you. You're feelings are normal for what you have gone through.
Forgive yourself
In many cases I've discovered that on some level I directly or indirectly allowed events to happen. If we invite someone into our lives, give them power and they abuse it, aren't we also responsible? If we continue to give them power by seeing ourselves as victims, aren't we responsible for that, too?
If love and compassion lighten us, and anger and resentment weigh us down, which of those benefit us and which don't?
We can choose to be masters of our emotions by giving ourselves, and no one else, the power to affect how we feel. Forgiveness is the most effective tool I've found for achieving that.
The fundamental mistake I believe that those who feel forgiveness is the best approach to the harm done to you - the fundamental mistake is the assumption that only through forgiveness can a victim find peace. I disagree. I think rather than forgiveness - acceptance is what a victim needs to work toward. Acceptance of life, acceptance that bad things do happen to good people - people will lie to you for their own self-serving ends, people will hurt you, but you can still live another day - the sun will rise again tomorrow.
Or as Helen Keller once wrote: "Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it"
A lot of people equate forgiveness with absolution, not understanding the two are not mutually inclusive. In a way, it gives forgiveness a bad name, when in fact it's one of the most self-empowering things you can do.
Not forgiving does not mean you will be anger and bitter your entire life. That's the fallacy of the assumption that forgiveness is the only answer. It isn't the only answer. Acceptance and valuing your own ethics - you can find peace as well. In fact - it's a stronger kind of peace, one that affirms who you are -
Or are you confusing forgiveness with absolution?
Forgiveness is about us, not them. It's about releasing ourselves from a lifetime of bitterness and resentment toward the other party. It's not about them at all.
On the other hand, a lot of people actually prefer being victims to being liberated. Because of that they'll create all kinds of demands upon the offending party before they'll forgive, which of course the offending party will never meet. This way they'll get to remain victims forever, claiming it's the other party's fault.
People have to distinguish between forgiveness and acceptance.
Acceptance is the last of the 5 stages of grief. The victim of a crime accepts that they live in a world in which a small percentage of people are monsters, accepts that they were a victim through absolutely no fault of their own, and then returns to their journey in the world. Without acceptance, you get stuck in grief, stuck wishing the world were different than what it is, incapable of gratitude for the good things life provides, and unable to carry out your own heroic mission.
Forgiveness is rebuilding the bridge of communion between you and another person which has been damaged by that person's hurtful actions. Forgiveness is crucial to maintain relationships with friends and loved ones, where rebuilding that bridge is on-going and lifelong. But why on earth would I want a bridge of communion between me and my rapist, or me and the dude that murdered my daughter? I didn't know the guy before the crime; why would I want to have any kind of relationship with him once he has violently and monstrously thrust himself into my world?
It's a cruel revictimization to expect someone to forgive, pray for, or (gack!) love their perp. It's cruel to demand that, after having their hearts torn apart by the perp, they now have to have some kind of relationship with him.
This is more in line with how I view forgiveness. It is a two-person process, requiring active participation by both parties. Unless the person being forgiven is willing to accept that what they did was wrong and seek forgiveness, saying "I forgive you" is meaningless.
Forgiven or not, acceptance is necessary if the victim is to heal. Some actions are so horrendous that they can harm a person for life unless the victim can come to some sort of acceptance. Forgiveness and acceptance is usually not for the benefit of the offender but the offended. As the article states, often the offender simply does not care.