I think the mitigating factor is contrition, Cushy. In the case of the Mormon, we have a man who appears to have suffered from a physical illness and with no willful intent, caused a terrible tragedy.

In the case of the Episcopal bishop, there was willful intent with no apparent regret (at least not any mentioned in the article). The actions of the grown men concerned caused strife within the Bishop's marriage, and to some extent, his daughter years later.

She chose to forgive, independent of any request to do so. To some, this could seem like cheap grace.

Posted by: mm | April 6, 2008 3:07 PM

Posted by: Here's another amazing forgiveness testimony | April 6, 2008 3:50 PM

Cushy, your question is understandable, and my response echoes mm's. It is not my business to tell Paul Moore's daughter not to forgive her father, and I don't begrudge her forgiving him (it's not my place to make that particular call). What I object to in that situation is the feeling I got that she doesn't think he did anything terribly wrong in the first place. Maybe I'm misreading her, but that's the impression I got: that his betrayal of her mother, and of his office as a Christian bishop, was understandable in light of the need for him to find himself, or whatever they call it.

Posted by: Rod Dreher | April 6, 2008 4:08 PM

I'm not sure I can grasp that level of forgiveness. I think it starts with an act of the will. A humble step in the darkness away from self towards God.

We are not God. We can't begin to comprehend why what we love can be taken away from us so tragically. There seems to be no justice.

But so too we are not alone. There is comfort. There is a choice not to be bitter. To stay open. To the work of the Holy Spirit. To healing.

This line was really powerful.
“We were praying that God’s will would be done,” Mr. Schrock said, “because we really didn’t know what God had in this whole thing.”
Amen.

Let God work things out.

Posted by: Sheilagh | April 6, 2008 5:01 PM

You may say that the gun-mans "belief in God" is what caused him to murder those Innocent girls. The exact opposite is true. The gun-mans "lack of faith" in a loving and just God, is what motivated him to commit this evil act. The Amish people reacted quite different to their personal tragedy. Although it is impossible to understand why God allows tragedy, suffering and evil, the spiritual principles of faith, forgiveness and humility help us deal with it. Maybe, when we suffer tragedy, we are learning something on a spiritual level that can only be taught in this way. Perhaps these lessons are more important to our eternal soul than all of the universities in the world could ever teach us.. Perhaps those that are spared tragedy in this lifetime, are far worse off in the eternity of our afterlife? I don't know, I'm just raising some possibilities.

Do you think the Amish are weird? Maybe so, but I admire them very much. However, I have no such admiration for today's American popular culture of college graduates who grew up in Godless homes, and think that there is nothing more than a physical and mental existence that ends when you die. Most of what is, lies in the realm of the spiritual world, which we know little about. In my opinion, humility in the presence of God, and allowing faith to guide our lives, trumps all intellectual and physical achievements here on earth.

Posted by: garyganu | April 6, 2008 5:52 PM

I have to place your question to me, Cushy, in the category of the Great Unknowns. On one hand, the Lord's Prayer implies we should offer categorical forgiveness to our debtors. As it is written in another place, "seventy times seven".

But backing up up a little in that prayer, we first ask that God forgive us our debts. Again, contrition is the key factor. This teaches us it is only through our own contrition that we obtain the grace to forgive others.

As such, there is only great nobility where there is great contrition. The idea of categorical forgiveness as a virtue unto itself, without paying homage to contrition, seems to me to be a slap in the face of God.

At least, this is my current understanding.

Posted by: mm | April 6, 2008 6:06 PM

It's when confronted with examples like these that I want to run and hide. I am ashamed to say that I can't stand the purity of the light.

There is a dark side to this light. I am Mennonite. I live in the heart of Lancaster County, PA, one of the spiritual centers of the Mennonite community.

A year ago there was an extended newspaper examination of sexual abuse in the conservative Mennonite/Amish communities. From the standpoint of the writer, the bishops and ministers were enablers in the behavior. They told the women to accept and forgive. Women who confronted the behavior or attempted to call leaders to account were condemned as threatening the integrity of the community. The German word for this positive behavior is Gelassenheit: yieldedness (to God, to the community, to authority, to "the way life is," in all of its pain).

Please note that the theological ethics in both cases is identical: God wills whatever happens, one's moral obligation is not to change the circumstances, but to accept it in a spirit of forgiveness.

So please don't idealize Mennonites or Amish. The lifestyle works fine within the community, as long as it stays "separate" from the world, living by its own moral and spiritual standards. But once one allows the moral standards of the wider world to critique the Ordnung ("order"), the high walls erected against the world will collapse.

It has already happened in the main body (called "Mennonite Church USA"), which has mutated in a tiny progressive evangelical sect.

Posted by: | April 6, 2008 7:42 PM

Max, I'll have to agree to disagree with you on "I don't think one can forgive the unrepentant".

Forgiveness does not involve reciprocity in my opinion; it involves me saying to the offending party "I forgive you, I hold no grudge against you" and then moving on, regardless of the reaction of the offending party.

In other words, forgiveness may not be a completely selfless action. By forgiving, I change me, without worrying about my act of forgiveness changing the offending party. I permit myself not to nurse hatred or seek revenge (notwithstanding my comments in the post above regarding pain).

Maybe what I'm getting at is no different than your reference to not holding a grudge and I'm just engaging in some semantical flim-flammery; then again, maybe not.

Posted by: Doug | April 6, 2008 8:26 PM

"Maybe what I'm getting at is no different than your reference to not holding a grudge and I'm just engaging in some semantical flim-flammery; then again, maybe not."

Doug, ultimately I think we're on the same page here.

Perhaps a better way for me to say it is that forgiveness cannot be received by the unrepentant, but that doesn't deminish the forgiveness offered. My calling it "half forgiveness" was a way of likening it to an unrequited love, which in essence it is.

Posted by: Max Schadenfreude | April 6, 2008 10:24 PM

Grigory, I think a couple of things might be going on here:

1) The surviving family members may have understood that having to live with the fact that five children died as a result of that man's actions was worse than any punishment the state could impose on him.

2) There was also no indication that the man was drunk or otherwise chemically impaired. No one has been able to determine why he crossed the median. Testimony was entered into the trial indicating that he may have had some sort of blackout.

3) Perhaps the survivors knew that the only way for themselves to heal is through forgiveness. Perhaps they understood deep down that if they didn't forgive, and set their children's killer free (spiritually), he would be lost to hell, and they would too, in some sense (figuratively or literally).

I don't know. I don't think anyone would have, or should have, begrudged that family wanting their children's killer to go to jail if it was not truly an accident. Theirs is heroic virtue, I think. I am certain that I would not be capable of it. But I am also certain that if my children were killed by a driver under those circumstances, I would be tormented by rage until I was able to forgive. And I know how weak I am in that regard. God deliver me from testing...

Posted by: Rod Dreher | April 7, 2008 12:29 AM

I'm always a little queasy about public Forgiveness Discussions, on several fronts.

Nowhere did Jesus say we should evaluate forgiveness-by-others, and discuss it, say what a good thing forgiveness is, and recommend it. He simply said "Forgive." Or "Father, forgive them [which is to say, 'I, the one harmed, want them forgiven']." Or taught us to say "forgive us as we forgive our debtors." That is, it is an issue lit from the inside, not about bystanders repeating his words. Doing what Jesus said with the life issue at hand is different from, and may be impeded by, admiring the idea -- as I think Rod implies in his last sentence.

Advocating forgiveness, or even praising it, to or before anyone else is often an act of violence to the already wounded who struggle, as the anonymous Mennonite comment points out. In such cases it may force the damaged into silence and dishonesty, rather than encourage actual forgiveness. In addition, as Thomas R. points out, forgiveness is often challenged to not inflate itself into an ideological grandiosity, going to war with the rest of the community in the name of "my special insight on 'mercy.' "

In the criminal justice system, I have observed a pattern among, say, parolees, that those accused of crimes pity themselves as victims by complaining that their victims, and others affected by the crimes, haven't forgiven them. A serious misuse of the concept.

Personally, and from coaching a wide range of people, I believe reaching forgiveness is an act of love for life and oneself, and the "first step" or "half forgiveness" is an excellent beginning. Many people are rightly concerned that "forgiveness" means showing up again and being a patsy for mis-treatment, cozying up to porcupines. More productively, it might well be thought of as neutralizing resentment by giving the event over to God or Life, and taking a step back, or forward, to find the wisdom and strength to improve one's own heart and life in the present moment. An act of affirming valor, best discerned from the inside.

Forgiveness is prudent and Life-affirming damage control in the wake of a difficult situation, and Jesus' words declare we can find it over and over without limit, rather than be hypnotized by awe when we behold its beauty.

Posted by: dilys | April 7, 2008 9:43 AM

I heard this story on the radio this morning and my first thought was "were the children properly belted - was the two year in a car seat". Does the father feel any personal responsibility. I actually find it easy to forgive the other driver. If accounts are true (he wasn't drinking but blacked out due to unknown medical reasons) it was truly an accident. But the father...all those deaths may have been preventable. Seat belts work but if five children are crowded into the front of a pickup . . .I think the prosecutor charged the wrong driver.

I am not feeling so good about the Amish and Mennonites right now. Having adopted a dog from Main Line Rescue I was interested in seeing Bill on Oprah Friday. The horrific dog trade makes me feel anger and disgust with this community. Bill who has established relationships with the breeders is more forgiving ... they view the dogs as livestock and merchandise. Very well, but I wouldn't buy a pig or cow from a farmer who kept his animals in such conditions. These "breeder" make industrial farmers look humane. How can such cruelty be justified by a person of faith? Even if they view the animals as creatures they have a right to dominate can such monstrous behavior be tolerated? I will never feel the same toward that community and I will never buy from Mennonite farmers at the farmers market.

Posted by: ctb | April 7, 2008 11:01 AM

I am ashamed to say that I can't stand the purity of the light.

I reject this. If my wife and kids were killed by some idiot, I don't think my anger and grief would allow me to be friends with the guy. Forgiveness is one thing. Friendship with the source of your loss is another. That is not "light," that's warped.

Maybe he didn't care much for his wife and kids.

Posted by: anoncritic | April 7, 2008 1:29 PM