Forgiveness 360: Three Stories of "Letting Go"
by Dean J. Seal
Dean Seal, an ordained minister in a validated ministry to interfaith dialogue in the Presbyterian tradition, is an adjunct professor at Augsburg College in Minneapolis, Minnesota. He is also the executive director of Forgiveness 360, a project of Spirit in the House, Inc. He presented a version of this paper at the Nobel Peace Prize Forum in Minneapolis in March of 2014, which was opened with a Laureate address by His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Forgiveness 360 is a project of Spirit in the House, Inc., a non-profit organization that reflects on and encourages spiritual diversity through the arts. The project has held two symposia on the subject of forgiveness in interfaith dialogue in recent years (2012 and 2013). “Interfaith Dialogue” is how we named the process of comparing viewpoints in the faith community, to find commonalities between the faiths and build on developing our relationships that way. Some faith leaders in this field feel they have more in common with their conversation partners interreligiously than they have with the doctrine-driven hardliners in their own traditions, because the multi-faith partners are open to new learning instead of just rehearsing what Thomas, Luther, or Wesley said.
Dean Seal, an ordained minister in a validated ministry to interfaith dialogue in the Presbyterian tradition, is an adjunct professor at Augsburg College in Minneapolis, Minnesota. He is also the executive director of Forgiveness 360, a project of Spirit in the House, Inc. He presented a version of this paper at the Nobel Peace Prize Forum in Minneapolis in March of 2014, which was opened with a Laureate address by His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Forgiveness 360 is a project of Spirit in the House, Inc., a non-profit organization that reflects on and encourages spiritual diversity through the arts. The project has held two symposia on the subject of forgiveness in interfaith dialogue in recent years (2012 and 2013). “Interfaith Dialogue” is how we named the process of comparing viewpoints in the faith community, to find commonalities between the faiths and build on developing our relationships that way. Some faith leaders in this field feel they have more in common with their conversation partners interreligiously than they have with the doctrine-driven hardliners in their own traditions, because the multi-faith partners are open to new learning instead of just rehearsing what Thomas, Luther, or Wesley said.
Dean Seal, executive director of Forgiveness 360, a project of Spirit in the House, Inc., a non-profit organization that explores spiritual diversity through the arts. Photo by Pablo Jones; used with permission.
What has emerged, in my experience, is what I call “multi-faith conversation.” This recognizes that with the internet, the explosion of ideas from around the world, it is not enough for the Christians to talk to the Jews, or the Christians and Jews to talk to the Muslims. The next generation does not care so much about what John Calvin says about redemption. They want to know what the Christians think about the Buddhists, the Hindus, the Native Americans, the Gaia culture. They do not have to go to church to get a really good sermon; they can tune in to TED talks. So if faith communities are going to have something to offer at all, they need to be able to speak in several spiritual languages to perceive and digest the viewpoints of many faiths and cultures, and to include atheists and humanists and agnostics and the spiritual but not religious in this discussion. And the use of “conversation” here is deliberate. This is a technical term, because it requires that the participants are willing to change their minds based on what they are hearing and learning. And hopefully after we have learned to listen, we will have something of value to offer our conversation partners, as well. For too long, many faith communities have done all the talking.
I tell my students that a class in World Religions is the best investment of their college time that they could make, because they will be working with Hindus and Buddhists and Muslims and Jews and atheists in the future, and this is how they will learn to speak respectfully to them and recognize that if someone is different, it is not scary; it is interesting. So while we learn about different forms of forgiveness, our efforts automatically contribute to world peace by exercising a conversation in many directions that involves learning and growing and maturing as ethical people, no matter your upbringing or viewpoint. The wisdom of the world is there for us, from throughout time and space, but we have to be open to it.
This essay is not calculated to be anything more than an introduction to the discussion of Peace and Forgiveness. The subject is wide and deep, it includes every faith tradition, every religious structure. It includes scientists and atheists and agnostics and humanists. Forgiveness is large as war and as small as getting into an elevator. This article is not meant to be comprehensive, or systematic. It will be more circular than linear. It is intended to help us reflect on forgiveness in our own lives.
I tell my students that a class in World Religions is the best investment of their college time that they could make, because they will be working with Hindus and Buddhists and Muslims and Jews and atheists in the future, and this is how they will learn to speak respectfully to them and recognize that if someone is different, it is not scary; it is interesting. So while we learn about different forms of forgiveness, our efforts automatically contribute to world peace by exercising a conversation in many directions that involves learning and growing and maturing as ethical people, no matter your upbringing or viewpoint. The wisdom of the world is there for us, from throughout time and space, but we have to be open to it.
This essay is not calculated to be anything more than an introduction to the discussion of Peace and Forgiveness. The subject is wide and deep, it includes every faith tradition, every religious structure. It includes scientists and atheists and agnostics and humanists. Forgiveness is large as war and as small as getting into an elevator. This article is not meant to be comprehensive, or systematic. It will be more circular than linear. It is intended to help us reflect on forgiveness in our own lives.
Marietta Jaeger is the subject of a play by Stephen O’Toole, Marietta, which follows her real-life struggle with the kidnapping and murder of her daughter and her eventual forgiveness of the perpetrator.
The format we use at Forgiveness 360 is called “narrative theology.” This simply means we tell stories to convey meaning. The Jewish tradition is built on stories—the family stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. So, too, is the Christian tradition based on stories, building upon the Jewish ones. The parables from Jesus and about Jesus root the Christian imagination in story.
The Forgiveness 360 Symposium started with a play called Marietta. It is a true story about Marietta Jaeger, a woman who forgave the kidnapper of her daughter before she even knew what had happened to her. We produced the play at Concordia University, and Marietta flew out here to speak in a post-show discussion. She has spoken to groups around the country about ending the death penalty, so she is a practiced and accomplished speaker. She comes from a Catholic Background.
When her daughter disappeared, the first thing Marietta wanted to do was kill the guy that took her. This is a natural reaction and, as Sister Helen Prejean says in her public presentations, “Anger is usually a righteous reaction to being hurt.” But it did not take long for Marietta to realize that there were two problems with how she was coping with tragedy. First, she was turning into the guy who violently took her child. Second, she was becoming another of his victims. She knew she had to do something.
“Forgiveness is not for wimps,” she told those assembled. It is just one of her great lines. This undercuts a lot of the assumptions many people have. Forgiveness is not the easy way out. It is not something that you can put on your to-do list and then check off when you are done with it. It takes daily disciplined, diligent thought. She talks elsewhere about how she starts every day with a prayer. She asks God to stay with her because she cannot do this forgiving thing alone. But it has set her free. Forgiveness has given her a life back. She had other children, and needed to be present to them and for them.
At the end of the talk, she spoke about when the kidnapper called her on the anniversary of the abduction—they had still not found her daughter—and the first thing she did after hearing him ask about her daughter was to ask about how he was doing. It kind of floored him. And he called back several times to try and throw her off, but inevitably the relationship with her helped him to give in and confess. He did not expect that someone would say she was praying for him. Marietta says, in the end, it was an out-of-body experience. But to hear her saying these things from the core of her spiritual discipline made him feel like, maybe for the first time, someone saw his humanity—even when he did not see it. And it moved him. It moved him to confess, and to give her some peace with the knowledge of what had happened to her daughter, and where she was.
This is a drastic case, the kidnapping and murder of a seven-year old child. These are the ones you hear about in the media. And they sound impossible. But Marietta reminds us that forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.
When we talk about peace at Forgiveness 360, a great inspiration to me is the Vietnamese Buddhist teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh. He is the one who inspired Dr. King to come out against the War in Vietnam. Dr. King nominated him for the Nobel Peace Prize, which he should have gotten by now, I think. I could quote him all day, but here is a brief statement that goes to the heart of today’s discussion:
The Forgiveness 360 Symposium started with a play called Marietta. It is a true story about Marietta Jaeger, a woman who forgave the kidnapper of her daughter before she even knew what had happened to her. We produced the play at Concordia University, and Marietta flew out here to speak in a post-show discussion. She has spoken to groups around the country about ending the death penalty, so she is a practiced and accomplished speaker. She comes from a Catholic Background.
When her daughter disappeared, the first thing Marietta wanted to do was kill the guy that took her. This is a natural reaction and, as Sister Helen Prejean says in her public presentations, “Anger is usually a righteous reaction to being hurt.” But it did not take long for Marietta to realize that there were two problems with how she was coping with tragedy. First, she was turning into the guy who violently took her child. Second, she was becoming another of his victims. She knew she had to do something.
“Forgiveness is not for wimps,” she told those assembled. It is just one of her great lines. This undercuts a lot of the assumptions many people have. Forgiveness is not the easy way out. It is not something that you can put on your to-do list and then check off when you are done with it. It takes daily disciplined, diligent thought. She talks elsewhere about how she starts every day with a prayer. She asks God to stay with her because she cannot do this forgiving thing alone. But it has set her free. Forgiveness has given her a life back. She had other children, and needed to be present to them and for them.
At the end of the talk, she spoke about when the kidnapper called her on the anniversary of the abduction—they had still not found her daughter—and the first thing she did after hearing him ask about her daughter was to ask about how he was doing. It kind of floored him. And he called back several times to try and throw her off, but inevitably the relationship with her helped him to give in and confess. He did not expect that someone would say she was praying for him. Marietta says, in the end, it was an out-of-body experience. But to hear her saying these things from the core of her spiritual discipline made him feel like, maybe for the first time, someone saw his humanity—even when he did not see it. And it moved him. It moved him to confess, and to give her some peace with the knowledge of what had happened to her daughter, and where she was.
This is a drastic case, the kidnapping and murder of a seven-year old child. These are the ones you hear about in the media. And they sound impossible. But Marietta reminds us that forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.
When we talk about peace at Forgiveness 360, a great inspiration to me is the Vietnamese Buddhist teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh. He is the one who inspired Dr. King to come out against the War in Vietnam. Dr. King nominated him for the Nobel Peace Prize, which he should have gotten by now, I think. I could quote him all day, but here is a brief statement that goes to the heart of today’s discussion:
We often think of peace as the absence of war, that if powerful countries would reduce their weapon arsenals, we could have peace. But if we look deeply into the weapons, we see our own minds—our own prejudices, fears and ignorance. Even if we transport all the bombs to the moon, the roots of war and the roots of bombs are still there, in our hearts and minds, and sooner or later we will make new bombs. To work for peace is to uproot war from ourselves and from the hearts of men and women. To prepare for war, to give millions of men and women the opportunity to practice killing day and night in their hearts, is to plant millions of seeds of violence, anger, frustration, and fear that will be passed on for generations to come.
Thich Naht Hanh, one of the best known and most respected Zen masters in the world today, is a poet and peace and human rights activist. Photo by Kelvin Cheuk.
In the context of finding peace in the world, that peace has to begin within, by being peaceful. Then we will start to become mindful of how peace works in the rest of our lives. Right now we think of a giant defense budget as a guarantor of peace, but it seems that once something is built, we want to use it. But even in the midst of war, there are those who cannot wait until we put the guns away.
Another story of forgiveness comes from a student of mine from Augsburg. Her name is Amineh Safi. She is from Damascus. As a Muslim student, she was a superb resource about the faith, and I was corrected on a regular basis in information and pronunciation. But she was smart in a humble way. She never made anyone feel stupid for not knowing something—kind of an ongoing act of forgiveness for the ignorance of the world.
Another story of forgiveness comes from a student of mine from Augsburg. Her name is Amineh Safi. She is from Damascus. As a Muslim student, she was a superb resource about the faith, and I was corrected on a regular basis in information and pronunciation. But she was smart in a humble way. She never made anyone feel stupid for not knowing something—kind of an ongoing act of forgiveness for the ignorance of the world.
Amineh Safi is a full-time student at Augsburg College. Photo by Pablo Jones; used with permission.
Amineh’s brother was trying to get out of Syria and join Amineh and her mother in Eden Prairie, but her father was ill. He was killed in his country’s current situation—a crisis with deep and complex relationships to oil, power, and their abuse. She echoes what Marietta said—that forgiveness is a “cleansing of the soul.” It is a means to prevent depression, to have a life back, to keep your focus on being of service in the world, instead of collapsing into the spiral of vengeance. So there is a deep similarity in the approach of these two women, each with a dedicated spiritual life, and insistence that they would not be destroyed by the killing of their loved one. Their viewpoints are not identical, however, and this is where we have to slow down and learn about the nuanced viewpoint that both defines and enriches how we hear these stories.
Amineh introduces a pre-condition: That if someone came and apologized for killing her brother, for hanging him in his own house, then she would forgive him. We get from her tone that she is already on that road, and understands what the value is of this forgiveness. But it is not necessarily going to be extended automatically.
We can see this, too, in the expert testimony of Louis Newman. He gives us both the technical parameters of the Jewish tradition—what the tradition asks of us and where we have some leeway—and then he also colors that picture with the active modern conversation of the Jewish intellectual community that both uses and goes beyond the teachings in the Torah and Talmud.
Amineh introduces a pre-condition: That if someone came and apologized for killing her brother, for hanging him in his own house, then she would forgive him. We get from her tone that she is already on that road, and understands what the value is of this forgiveness. But it is not necessarily going to be extended automatically.
We can see this, too, in the expert testimony of Louis Newman. He gives us both the technical parameters of the Jewish tradition—what the tradition asks of us and where we have some leeway—and then he also colors that picture with the active modern conversation of the Jewish intellectual community that both uses and goes beyond the teachings in the Torah and Talmud.
Louis Newman is a Professor of religious studies at Carleton College where he teaches courses in Judaic studies and has special interests in Jewish ethics and contemporary Jewish life and thought. Photo by Pablo Jones; used with permission.
Louis gives us some history, but he also gives us a methodology. He tells us, first, that there is no one answer to the issue of forgiveness and how it is implemented. Secondly, he informs us that any answer offered should be considered in the historical context in which it arises. Thirdly, he says that the Jewish Law tells us that we are required to forgive in some circumstances, but not others. The first red flag of forgiveness is “ongoing harm,” like when a wife beater is forgiven but then goes on beating his wife. Forgiveness is not required then. In fact, in that situation, with that outcome—forgiveness is a mistake. Another example is murder, because the injury cannot be repaired. Then it is not required—but it could be an act of generosity. And, finally, he asserts that to forgive someone may indeed be “a gift to one’s self,” echoing Marietta directly.
So the three Abrahmic faiths, as demonstrated by these three practitioners, have a commonality in recognizing that forgiveness is valuable. It can be difficult, but is both a healing force in our own lives, and a healing power in our lives with others. It is finally a means of recognizing the humanity of the one who has rendered you harm, instead of demonizing them, to be cast out into Sheol, where they will weep and gnash their teeth. What if we did not sentence our prison population to perpetual suffering? What if we approached them with a sense of finding a way to forgive instead of seeking new ways to punish? What if we hired them, and let them vote? There is a line from Jesus here. “I was in prison . . . and you did not visit me” (Matthew 25:43). In my mind, our culture, dominated as it is by the Christian imagination, or imaginations, as it were, is more focused on vengeance and justice than it is on mercy and forgiveness.
So the three Abrahmic faiths, as demonstrated by these three practitioners, have a commonality in recognizing that forgiveness is valuable. It can be difficult, but is both a healing force in our own lives, and a healing power in our lives with others. It is finally a means of recognizing the humanity of the one who has rendered you harm, instead of demonizing them, to be cast out into Sheol, where they will weep and gnash their teeth. What if we did not sentence our prison population to perpetual suffering? What if we approached them with a sense of finding a way to forgive instead of seeking new ways to punish? What if we hired them, and let them vote? There is a line from Jesus here. “I was in prison . . . and you did not visit me” (Matthew 25:43). In my mind, our culture, dominated as it is by the Christian imagination, or imaginations, as it were, is more focused on vengeance and justice than it is on mercy and forgiveness.
Krista Tippett (of On Being) and Dean Seal sit down for a conversation for Twin Cities Public Television. The show deals with multi-faith narratives. Photo by Pablo Jones; used with permission.
Rev. Verlyn Hemmen uses forgiveness in the professional setting of hospital work. He is a chaplain and he trains chaplains. And he gives us a brief introduction to the work he does, and how he uses forgiveness in the hospice setting in making for a good death. “The power of forgiveness is not limited by death,” he says. This is not a scientific statement. But it is a truth based on lived experience, which is another form of truth. In our age, some people have a hard time understanding that there is more than one kind of truth, and one of those is lived experience. Nothing in lived experience will conform to the scientific method of a replicable experiment. But if they understand that metaphor can be a larger truth than facts, then facts are given their appropriate place in the discussion and we can start to understand that there are many and various shades of truth. The world we are discussing here includes the past lived experience of our spiritual ancestors, but no less the lived experience of those around us, and of ourselves. Religious teachings are a map, but no map gives you a picture of what is in front of you. You have to look up from the map and look at reality in order to see the world.
Verlyn tells us a little more about what forgiveness means in Greek, the language of the New Testament. Forgiveness means “to let go.” Peter was looking for an exact number when he asked Jesus if seven times was enough. Seven is a lot, and if you knew my brother-in-law, you would think so, too, it seems Peter is saying. Jesus wanted to shatter the search itself. Seventy times seven? It takes a minute to do the math. But Marietta has told us what it takes. It takes every day, every hour. Seventy times seven million is more like it. It is not a number, Jesus says. It is a way. It is the nature of the kingdom of God. Always trying to let go of the hurt. There is one definition of forgiveness that means accepting that your past is not what you wanted it to be. So letting go of the expectation you had, that has been dashed—letting go of the anger that you have, of the thirst for vengeance that is in our bones. That is in the nature of the definition.
We call our work Forgiveness 360 because it includes not forgiving, or deciding that some things are unforgivable, or finding a way to a kind of forgiveness that is right for the individual. We call our work Forgiveness 360 because there are at least fifty shades of forgiveness. Jim Bear Jacobs, a Mohican and Christian Holy Man who has his own tale of the gradations of forgiveness, helps us understand this. He tells us that forgiveness frees the one who has been violated from the power of the one who has violated the relationship. Wherever you get to in forgiveness, it may not get you all the way to reconciliation, he explains. It does not have to.
I was once invited to speak at a men’s retreat where I talked about forgiveness over a couple class periods. One participant said he thought it was valuable, but he wanted a sort of step-by-step approach. There is a very good one by Mary Hayes Greico, called Unconditional Forgiveness, that has an eight-step plan that is not tied to any spiritual tradition, but is a very workable methodology. I am making a link between steps for my own use, to see if there is a model that can be adapted to how I experience the need. There is a great thinker named Brené Brown who talks about vulnerability as a means to authentic lives and relationships. We have to take a chance and initiate relationship even when we are not guaranteed that it will work. On the Krista Tippett radio program, On Being, Tippett expanded this idea further by saying that vulnerability is what you need to get to compassion. You have to be open to the pain the other is feeling in order to be compassionate.
This idea hooks into what the Buddhists consider to be a central theme of their tradition: Compassion. Thich Nhat Hanh writes, “You need compassion for a person before you can forgive them. You may wish to forgive them, but until you have compassion for them, you cannot forgive them.”
Vulnerability can lead you into compassion, and compassion can lead you to forgiveness, and forgiveness can lead you to reconciliation. But each step is a tender place to be, and you may not get to reconciliation at all. Krista Tippett has explored modern thought about spirituality, religion, ethics and meaning through her radio show and website, On Being. Her interview with a brain scientist, Michael McCullough, was formative for me. He talks about how vengeance is hardwired into our heads, because it is an act of defense. Our brains light up when we are hurt or humiliated, in the same way that they light up when we see our favorite meal after not having any food for a day. It is a literal example of the hunger for vengeance. But right on the heels of that is the instinct for forgiveness. It is the evolutionary adaptation to vengeance because we do not want to kill everyone with whom we become angry. We want to maintain relationship in the tribe, and to retain a connection to other people. So both of these—vengeance and forgiveness—are natural events in our brains. They are not sinful or virtuous as much as states of being, and if we are mindful of them, we can shape them to our own better judgement instead of being at their mercy.
I think my favorite example of cultural forgiveness is the ongoing peace movement in Northern Ireland. Actor Jim Stowell did a one-man show for Spirit in the House called The Most Bombed Hotel in the World. That’s the claim of the place he stayed in Belfast. He lived with the Catholic community when they were starting to come to peace with the Protestants. Both sides had started to decide that enough was enough, and that they did not want to hand the killings down to the next generation. They did not want the murder of a fourteen-year-old sister in the wrong candy store at the wrong time to be a source of vengeance. Jim said that only in the deepest respect for the love that was at the center of their faiths did they have the strength to make this truce and then the peace. Jim says, “Love is the oxygen of peace.” And I would add, letting go is the lifeblood of forgiveness.
Each of these stories is like a hard little gem, forged in the fiery pain of lived experience, into a beautifully colored stone. As we line these up next to each other, the pattern becomes like a stained glass window, each showing the light coming through in a unique beautiful color, becoming a sublime picture of the hard-won beauty of forgiveness.
Editor’s note: The videos to which Dean Seal refers are available for viewing on YouTube. They can be found at: https://www.youtube.com/user/forgiveness360.
Verlyn tells us a little more about what forgiveness means in Greek, the language of the New Testament. Forgiveness means “to let go.” Peter was looking for an exact number when he asked Jesus if seven times was enough. Seven is a lot, and if you knew my brother-in-law, you would think so, too, it seems Peter is saying. Jesus wanted to shatter the search itself. Seventy times seven? It takes a minute to do the math. But Marietta has told us what it takes. It takes every day, every hour. Seventy times seven million is more like it. It is not a number, Jesus says. It is a way. It is the nature of the kingdom of God. Always trying to let go of the hurt. There is one definition of forgiveness that means accepting that your past is not what you wanted it to be. So letting go of the expectation you had, that has been dashed—letting go of the anger that you have, of the thirst for vengeance that is in our bones. That is in the nature of the definition.
We call our work Forgiveness 360 because it includes not forgiving, or deciding that some things are unforgivable, or finding a way to a kind of forgiveness that is right for the individual. We call our work Forgiveness 360 because there are at least fifty shades of forgiveness. Jim Bear Jacobs, a Mohican and Christian Holy Man who has his own tale of the gradations of forgiveness, helps us understand this. He tells us that forgiveness frees the one who has been violated from the power of the one who has violated the relationship. Wherever you get to in forgiveness, it may not get you all the way to reconciliation, he explains. It does not have to.
I was once invited to speak at a men’s retreat where I talked about forgiveness over a couple class periods. One participant said he thought it was valuable, but he wanted a sort of step-by-step approach. There is a very good one by Mary Hayes Greico, called Unconditional Forgiveness, that has an eight-step plan that is not tied to any spiritual tradition, but is a very workable methodology. I am making a link between steps for my own use, to see if there is a model that can be adapted to how I experience the need. There is a great thinker named Brené Brown who talks about vulnerability as a means to authentic lives and relationships. We have to take a chance and initiate relationship even when we are not guaranteed that it will work. On the Krista Tippett radio program, On Being, Tippett expanded this idea further by saying that vulnerability is what you need to get to compassion. You have to be open to the pain the other is feeling in order to be compassionate.
This idea hooks into what the Buddhists consider to be a central theme of their tradition: Compassion. Thich Nhat Hanh writes, “You need compassion for a person before you can forgive them. You may wish to forgive them, but until you have compassion for them, you cannot forgive them.”
Vulnerability can lead you into compassion, and compassion can lead you to forgiveness, and forgiveness can lead you to reconciliation. But each step is a tender place to be, and you may not get to reconciliation at all. Krista Tippett has explored modern thought about spirituality, religion, ethics and meaning through her radio show and website, On Being. Her interview with a brain scientist, Michael McCullough, was formative for me. He talks about how vengeance is hardwired into our heads, because it is an act of defense. Our brains light up when we are hurt or humiliated, in the same way that they light up when we see our favorite meal after not having any food for a day. It is a literal example of the hunger for vengeance. But right on the heels of that is the instinct for forgiveness. It is the evolutionary adaptation to vengeance because we do not want to kill everyone with whom we become angry. We want to maintain relationship in the tribe, and to retain a connection to other people. So both of these—vengeance and forgiveness—are natural events in our brains. They are not sinful or virtuous as much as states of being, and if we are mindful of them, we can shape them to our own better judgement instead of being at their mercy.
I think my favorite example of cultural forgiveness is the ongoing peace movement in Northern Ireland. Actor Jim Stowell did a one-man show for Spirit in the House called The Most Bombed Hotel in the World. That’s the claim of the place he stayed in Belfast. He lived with the Catholic community when they were starting to come to peace with the Protestants. Both sides had started to decide that enough was enough, and that they did not want to hand the killings down to the next generation. They did not want the murder of a fourteen-year-old sister in the wrong candy store at the wrong time to be a source of vengeance. Jim said that only in the deepest respect for the love that was at the center of their faiths did they have the strength to make this truce and then the peace. Jim says, “Love is the oxygen of peace.” And I would add, letting go is the lifeblood of forgiveness.
Each of these stories is like a hard little gem, forged in the fiery pain of lived experience, into a beautifully colored stone. As we line these up next to each other, the pattern becomes like a stained glass window, each showing the light coming through in a unique beautiful color, becoming a sublime picture of the hard-won beauty of forgiveness.
Editor’s note: The videos to which Dean Seal refers are available for viewing on YouTube. They can be found at: https://www.youtube.com/user/forgiveness360.
