Four Stories of Forgiveness in Seemingly Impossible Situations - Part One

FORGIVENESS: HOW DO I WORK AT FORGIVING MYSELF AND OTHERS?

Forgiveness is hard work. So many emotions and desires pull at our heart when it comes to extending forgiveness - one them is the desire for justice. That makes total sense because we are "wired" for justice. God wired us to desire all that is good, true, beautiful. Every person, thus, desires justice to be served in unjust situations. How many times do we hear our children cry at very early ages, “But, Mom/Dad, that’s not fair!”? And—be honest—how many times do we catch ourselves thinking the same thing (God, this isn't fair) when we are faced with situations that go against our hopes, dreams or expectations. Any unmet desire, no matter how good, will usually result in some level of frustration, anger, and if unfulfilled long enough, it could lead to the sin of bitter resentment. That is why forgiveness is so important!

But what are the limits of forgiveness? Follow this link to an article from Catholic Answers, where Jimmy Akin explains  the Limits of Forgiveness.

The good news is that we are not alone in this struggle to forgive others. God is right there with us!

I will be sharing four stories of people who have extended or received forgiveness in seemingly impossible situations. The first two will be included in this article:

FIRST STORY:

”When Allied soldiers found the Nazi concentration camp at Ravensbruck, where about ninety-two thousand women and children had died, they found a note tied to a rock that had been placed next to a dead woman and child. It is actually a prayer written by one of the women:

“O Lord, when I shall come with glory into your Kingdom, remember not only the men and women of good will; remember also those of ill will. But do not only remember the suffering they have inflicted on us. Remember the fruits we bought thanks to this suffering; our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart which have become part of our lives because of our suffering here. May the memory of us not be a nightmare to them when they stand in judgment. When they come to judgment, let all the fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness. Amen. Amen. Amen” (Monsignor Charles M. Mangan, “Our Grave Obligation to Forgive” Catholic Online, January 29, 2006).

Where did she get this power? On her own it was not possible; even if she did the best she could do, she could never have prayed this prayer.

Corrie Ten Boom, survivor of the Holocaust, shows us where the power comes from and at the same time how our small part - our obedient effort - is necessary:

SECOND STORY:

She and her family were arrested for hiding Jews in their Haarlem, Netherlands home. They were imprisoned and she and her sister, Betsie were eventually sent to Ravensbruck concentration camp where her sister died. Betsie’s example of selfless love and forgiveness amid extreme cruelty inspired Corrie to establish a postwar home for other camp survivors trying to recover from the horrors they experienced. She went on to travel widely as a missionary, preaching God’s forgiveness and the need for reconciliation. Her devout moral principles were tested when, by chance, she came face to face in 1947 with one of her former tormentors (from "The Hiding Place"):

“It was in a church in Munich that I saw him, a balding, heavy-set man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room where I had just spoken… And that’s when I saw him, working his way forward against the others. One moment I saw the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and crossbones. It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights, the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor, the shame of walking naked past this man. I could see my sister’s frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment skin. Betsie, how thin you were!

‘You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk,’ he was saying: ‘I was a guard in there.’ No, he did not remember me.

‘But since that time,’ he went on, ‘I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well, Fraulein…,’ his hand came out…’will you forgive me?’

And I stood there – I whose sins had every day to be forgiven – and could not. Betsie had died in that place – could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the asking?

It could not have been many seconds that he stood there, hand held out, but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I ever had to do.

For I had to do it – I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. ‘If you do not forgive men their trespasses,’ Jesus says, ‘neither will your Father in heaven forgive your trespasses.’

And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion – I knew that too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. ‘Jesus, help me!’ I prayed silently. ‘I can lift my hand, I can do that much. You supply the feeling.’

And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.

“I forgive you, brother!’ I cried. ‘With all my heart!’

For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely as I did then."

I hope you can find inspiration in these two stories. Your story of forgiveness is just as important in bearing witness to the power of God's grace working in our hearts. 

In Part Two, I will share two more stories.