I wrote this piece a couple of months ago, after the Amber Guyger conviction, so it is a little dated. I never did anything with it, but I like it, and I think the points I make stand, so I’m posting it now.
What is the state of the specifically Christian virtue of forgiveness in our world today?
Recently in the news, the story of Botham Jean and Amber Guyger returned to the headlines, following Guyger’s conviction and sentencing for the shooting death of Jean in their apartment building one night several years ago. Guyger was a white police officer who was off-duty and entered Jean’s apartment one night (mistakenly taking it to be hers, according to her own account of the incident) and fatally shooting what she thought was an intruder, but in reality was simply a man in the supposed safety of his own home.
Guyger became another symbol of the continuing problems of racism and the inability of people of color to occupy spaces – both public and private – free of harassment or even the threat of harm due to their skin color or ethnicity. This young, white, blonde woman is an easy caricature of both white fragility and naivety, but also of the problems with the relation between policing, guns and race.
So, for those (like myself) concerned with the state of race relations in our country in 2019, and who accept as truth the idea that racism still plays a potent and important role in American public life, the scene of Botham Jean’s brother, Brandt, embracing and forgiving Guyger at her sentencing hearing last month is one that is difficult to contextualize, to say the least. The avalanche of praise heaped on Jean’s act from media organizations and representatives who are white or who present a view of the world that historically is white, brought up questions of both the responsibility of POC to practice forgiveness and whether doing so does more harm than good to race relations.
I want to leave those questions aside, and address one more nakedly sectarian in nature: what is the state of the specifically Christian virtues of forgiveness and reconciliation in a world that is becoming more and more cognizant of the historical problems related to power relations around race? To be more specific: is Christian forgiveness still a virtue worth being practiced? This question is especially relevant when we think about the ways in which forgiveness has been wielded as a manipulative tool of false healing by those who have long benefitted from the subjection of one group of people based on their skin color. Is forgiveness an outmoded and quaint relic of the past, one that must, according to some, be sublimated beneath the seemingly more pressing virtues of justice and equity? Do Christians even have the right to encourage an ethic of forgiveness when it comes to these issues of immediate socio-political concern?
My own leanings in favor of forgiveness are probably evident in the framing of these questions. These questions arose for me in the days after The Hug as I watched progressive Christian friends and acquaintances on social media (many of them white) lambast the scene as one that was unjust, unfair, and manipulative, and the accompanying screeds against the necessity of historically marginalized groups to forgive those who have historically committed wrongs. What happened, I wondered as I read post after post, to Jesus’ directive to his disciples (of which we Christians today are to still consider ourselves) to “forgive others as your Father forgives”? Where did the imperative to “forgive our sins as we forgive the sins of others” go? What happened to the reversal of power imbalances inherent in the act of forgiveness freely given? Did we learn nothing from the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s, to say nothing of the words of Christ himself? Why does a beautiful act of forgiveness – one not performed, as far as I can tell, due to coercive outside forces – spark such anger, and frankly un-Christian responses, from those I consider siblings in Christ? When did forgiveness become something to avoid for fear of the release of anger and hate that such a freeing act conveys? Why must the praise directed at one man’s act be equated with those acts of deceit and deception I referenced earlier?
Questions upon questions upon questions, all struck up by one act that should have been a beacon of light in a very dark time. I suspect I am not the only one asking such questions. And I suspect I am not the only one who gets whiffs of not totally true outrage at a specific wrong, but rather, an eagerly seized opportunity to practice virtue signaling.
None of this questioning is meant to dismiss the honestly articulated concerns and questions raised by POC about the way people with less-than-honest motives manipulate these kinds of scenes to quash down any actions or conversations that may actually address issues of race relations. I completely understand and sympathize with these arguments; I too have seen where bad actors have been able misuse false scenes of forgiveness to further oppress POC.
On the other hand, none of that very real danger should allow us who claim the mantle of Christianity to set aside the need to practice forgiveness, and to practice it when it is especially hard, inconvenient or dangerous. Our example for life comes from him who forgave his murderers as they crucified him on a cross. His act of forgiveness was an act of seizing power from his oppressors, even as they continued to oppress. The forgiveness he showed – an act that was the culminating moment of a public ministry that was by and large predicated on the need for oppressed peoples to practice radical forgiveness towards those who were afflicting them – initiated a world-changing revolution, powered by a love for the other that is not dependent on that other performing some act worthy of love. In fact, the radical nature of that dangerous love is made all the more earth-shattering because of the reluctance, inability and/or refusal of those with power to forgive first. When one chooses to be the breaker of the cycle of violence through an act of unsolicited and unfairly given forgiveness, they become in fact the bearer of a new kind of power, a power more akin to that wielded by an non-coercive and completely loving God. It really is the only kind of effective power that an oppressed people has that can really begin the process of correction and healing. God’s kingdom – a Kingdom predicated on love, on mercy, and on justice – cannot be initiated by the sword. It can only be brought about by laying down one’s self for others, to show what is in fact possible to a world that only sees impossibilities. That Kingdom is one where reconciliation – the joining together of those once separated by the powers of sin and death – is present, because reconciliation can only come from a people willing to forgive, no matter the cost.
When Christians see the act of forgiveness that Jean practiced towards convicted murderer Amber Guyger, we should see an act that is in harmony with our own story of how the world works. Rather than sacrificing our story in order to be relevant to the political concerns of the world – no matter how right and just those concerns are – we must instead recognize that the liberation we want for the world, and for all the oppressed peoples who inhabit it, will only come from countless small acts of unsung forgiveness, forgiveness given when it seems completely uncalled for or unfair. Forgiveness, and the attendant reconciliation it entails, is the only way to achieve the justice and love of God; in short, it is the only first step possible towards the world we all want.
Justin DaMetz 