On Forgiveness, Remembrance, and Grace
I have been thinking about forgiveness recently. What does it mean to forgive? What does it take? What does it do? Who offers it? To whom?
I have just returned from Rwanda where it is the month of Kwibuka, which means ‘remember.’ Kwibuka is the annual commemoration of the 1994 genocide that claimed the lives of a million Rwandans. It has been twenty-four years now. Each year, Rwanda remembers and focuses on healing.
Forgiveness is letting go of the anger and hurt that we hold within, so we can heal. Anger and hurt are triggered by harm we have experienced, yet replaying these emotions is a choice that we ourselves make. The Buddha described this phenomenon in the parable of the two arrows. He said, “If you get shot by an arrow, does it hurt?” The answer is yes. If you get shot by a second arrow, does it hurt even more? “Yes, of course!” we might respond. Well, explained the Buddha, the first arrow is the suffering we experience when something harmful happens to us. The second arrow is one we shoot at ourselves with the suffering we create with our reaction to the hurt. This internal suffering can cut deep and linger for years, or even a lifetime. Yet, who is harmed when we repeatedly replay the memory of hurt? It is us.
Releasing hurt doesn’t mean ignoring pain or forgetting what caused it. It often takes acknowledging pain to release it. When my daughter was little, she often fell while running. I could brush it off and say, “Don’t cry, you’re a big girl now” or I could offer her a hug and say “I am sorry, you got hurt.” The former response would draw more tears, while the latter would result in her saying, “I’m fine” and bouncing quickly back to her usual cheerful self. But, what if there is no external acknowledgment?
As adults, if we look for acknowledgment of our suffering or apology and recompense to come from the outside, we become victims dependent on the response of others. Is it possible to acknowledge our hurt and release the suffering ourselves, regardless of the actions of others? I had a lesson in this on my last evening in Rwanda.
By chance, I re-encountered Peter, the taxi driver who had taken me around on my last visit. I had written about his ability to find peace and joy despite the loss of most of his family in the genocide (https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/walking-garden-forgiveness-lyndon-rego/). I had a chance to experience his grace yet again. This time, we were driving down a dark and very bumpy dirt road. The rains had cut deep furrows into the road that threatened to swallow the car. Peter navigated these, chuckling at the bumps. When we hit the main paved road, it was clear that the road had taken a toll on his car. It was now thumping and struggling to go uphill. Peter drove slowly until he could pull over and take a look. It seemed like the wheel had been damaged and the car was not going to get far. Apologizing, he found me another taxi to take me on. He did this with nary a curse for the road or expression of irritation for the damage caused to the car. He remained calm with a focus on getting me home.
Peter inherently knew that anger and frustration would do nothing to eliminate the problem. He could certainly avoid the road in the future and learn from what had gone wrong. In staying calm, he focused his efforts on taking care of what was in his span of control. He put himself in the driver’s seat of his emotions.
Peter and Rwanda remind me of our power to change how we respond. Rather than turn to anger, we can acknowledge the pain and seek a response that may best serve us. Bad stuff happens to all of us, every day, repeatedly. Sometimes it is trivial, sometimes things far worse than Peter’s car trouble, yet it is unlikely that it will exceed what so many in Rwanda endured.
So what is the role of forgiveness? I believe it is to help us move on. What does it do? It releases hurt. Who can release hurt? We can, for ourselves. We often don’t control what happens in the world, yet we can choose how we respond.
Forgiveness, says a beautiful verse from the East, is the fragrance of a violet on the heel of the one who crushed it. This alchemy of hurt into love and mercy takes great strength and compassion. Rather shoot arrows of anger, we offer the fragrance of forgiveness. Ultimately, it is not just a gift to others, but a blessing from ourselves to ourselves. When the pain fades, the scent of grace remains.
……..
A Rwandan website on Kwibuka explains: Memory is informed by knowledge. Knowledge is informed by truth. And truth is key to understanding. Understanding will help ensure that an atrocity on the scale of the 1994 genocide never happens again — in Rwanda or elsewhere. To learn more visit https://rwandaguide.info/post-details/kwibuka or watch https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HXF58HgSIyw.
