I saw the new Clint Eastwood film Invictus the other evening with my wife and another couple (a real double date!). As so often happens with me, a particular event, a specific item of media (article, book, film, etc.), or a personal interaction ends up serving as a point of consolidation for various streams of thought and musings that have been in my mind and/or heart for some time. In this case, the movie tied together two books I have read in past few years: Nelson Mandela’s “Long Walk to Freedom” and “Amish Grace“, a documentary film released in 2007 entitled “The Power of Forgiveness“, and a recent talk on forgiveness that I gave to a group of students from San Francisco State’s InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.
My humble explorations on the topic of forgiveness have brought me to one foundational conclusion: true forgiveness requires us to go “beyond” ourselves – beyond our own feelings and often beyond what we believe is reasonable or possible. As a Christian, I look to the Bible for inspiration in such matters. In preparing for my recent talk, I was led to the gospel of Matthew, Chapter 18, verses 21-35; what is commonly known as the “Parable of the Unforgiving Debtor“. In verse 21, Peter - one of Jesus’ most committed followers, asks about the extent of forgiveness. He throws out a proposal that he believes is totally magnanimous: “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?” He’s obviously trying to impress Jesus with his generosity, as evidenced in the scope of his potential forgiveness. In considering Peter’s proposal, it should be noted that the prevailing Jewish tradition was to extend forgiveness to someone three times. It’s believed that this practice evolved from the first two chapters of the Old Testament book of Amos – where the following refrain is repeated eight times: “the people of ________ have sinned again and again, and I will not let them go unpunished!” Because this refrain alluded to two consecutive instances of sin before God would respond with punishment, the people believed that forgiving three times was safely within God’s standard.
Jesus’ response blows Peter completely out of the water: “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.” Clearly this is not an issue of finite numbers, of keeping count; it describes a level of forgiveness that seems unfathomable to us. It certainly was to Peter, who in what we would describe today as a “Homer Simpson” moment, probably responded with his day’s equivalent of “Doh!” Jesus, seeing Peter’s bewilderment, responds by essentially saying: let Me give you an example of what I’m talking about…
The story (parable) Jesus proceeds to tell Peter acknowledges the reality of our lives as human beings. Namely, that asking people to forgive their enemies or those who have significantly wounded or hurt them in the past is much too difficult a first step. Instead, we should first consider (reflect upon) the level and amount of forgiveness we have received from God and from those around us (family, friends, community) over the years. Truth be told, all of us have been making regular “withdrawals” from the bank of forgiveness since before we can remember. This is why Jesus begins the story by talking about the magnitude of the king’s forgiveness for the man who owed him millions (literally everything).
The real-life example of Nelson Mandela reinforces this principle. Mandela entered prison an “angry” man, focused on taking vengeance upon his captors and overthrowing the Apartheid regime by violent means, if necessary. Over time, he learned that he, his white jailers, and the white government officials actually had much in common as human beings – particularly regarding their fear-based responses to political uncertainty and cultural differences. Once he learned to look beyond himself, he began to study his “enemies”; learning how they behaved, why they acted as they did, and ultimately, how to communicate with them. This shift in “moral” stance on the part of Mandela and the political movement he led eventually cast apartheid in a light that the global community could no longer tolerate. The beginning of the end was South Africa’s subsequent political and economic alienation from the rest of the world. Without that power, the few could no longer rule over the many.
Returning to the movie, what struck me the most was its portrayal of Mandela’s dogged insistence that true development and reconciliation in South Africa could only take place within the context of forgiveness and acceptance. In assuming the presidency, he called black South Africans to a higher standard. He clearly foresaw that replacing white oppression for black oppression and simply shifting fear from one group of people to another was no solution. I thought the most moving scene in the film was when the national rugby team visited Robben Island where Mandela had been imprisoned for so many years. Upon entering what used to be Mandela’s cell, the team captain wondered aloud how a man who had been oppressed for so long in that place could so willingly forgive his captors and those who had empowered them. I believe the answer, consistent with what is described in the book Amish Grace, is that for Nelson Mandela forgiveness was a lifestyle – not something that was ”called up” by force of personal will only when needed.
As you may have surmised, the movie touched me at a level that went way beyond the critics’ “expert” observations. Perhaps some of them felt the way I did but were loathe to express such personal opinions in a review. Who knows?
Finally, if you’d like to examine another take on the relationship between forgiveness and reconciliation, check this out this link.
