Forgiveness
I’m sure I am not the only one who can’t forget the story of the five Amish school girls who were killed the fall of 2006. What I remember most is the lesson that the Amish gave the rest of us in the difficulty and the power of forgiveness.
Rev. Rob Schenck, President of the National Clergy Council, writes of his first hand experience with this particular Amish community.
I was one of the few non-Amish welcomed into the very private Amish mourning rituals for five slain school girls in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Few from the outside world will ever see up close these extraordinarily private and pacifistic people as they deal with the enormous suffering of losing their children to a brutal act of violence.
While they live differently, the Amish are the first to dispel any notion they are better than us. One "preacher" told me, "You English (their term for the non-Amish) sometimes think we're perfect; we're not. We've got all the problems you have, and we have bad people, too. It could have been an Amish that did this." Still, it is at times of great suffering and loss that the best of what the Amish are truly shines.
As I visited in the victims' homes, sat on the mourning benches, talked with the families about the details of that terrible day, and watched one mother tenderly care for her daughter's damaged body, I was struck by how prepared they were for this. Not simply in a technical sense, but in a deeply spiritual, philosophical and moral sense. The Amish were well rehearsed for this tragedy.
This religious movement began five centuries ago under fierce persecution. Over that time they have carefully lived out and preserved a strict way of life based on their interpretation of Jesus' words in the Gospel, "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth. But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." (Matthew 5:38-39)
The Amish know this commitment leaves them vulnerable to precisely the kind of harm that befell their children on October 2, 2006. So, they have used their historic silence and cloistered existence as a shield against a hostile outside world. Sadly, that shield proved ineffective against a threat as close as a neighborhood milk truck driver. But they have a backup for such a failure. It was epitomized in a scene I will never forget, when a grandfather stood at the foot of his own murdered granddaughter's coffin and said, "It is important to teach our children not to think evil of the man who did this." It was a remarkable act of generosity; one expressed earlier when Amish emissaries went to the killer's family offering complete forgiveness and an invitation to the funerals.
And finally, I observed, first-hand, the power of forgiveness. When I visited the home of shooter Charles Roberts, I saw this amazing principle in action: in the almost supernaturally generous extension of immediate forgiveness by the victims' families; and, in the humble way the Roberts' accepted this gift. Others in the Roberts' circumstances might have refused such an offer, whether out of guilt, or shame, or simply their own pain, but the Roberts humbly accepted. An Amish leader explained the importance of this by saying, "God has offered us forgiveness for our sins in the work of Christ on the Cross, but we must accept that gift to enjoy it. Once we've accepted it, then we can share it in small measure with others." Because the Roberts' accepted the gift, they can continue to share it, and this cycle of forgiveness will go on to heal this community much faster than one embroiled in hatred and vindictiveness.”
I hope and pray that my capacity to forgive will never be tested in such a way. At the same time I hope that I can become a part of the cycle of forgiveness in ways large and small. There is nothing easy about forgiving. But the hard work that it takes pays off in ways seen and unseen.
Amy Miracle
Forgiveness
I’m sure I am not the only one who can’t forget the story of the five Amish school girls who were killed the fall of 2006. What I remember most is the lesson that the Amish gave the rest of us in the difficulty and the power of forgiveness.
Rev. Rob Schenck, President of the National Clergy Council, writes of his first hand experience with this particular Amish community.
I was one of the few non-Amish welcomed into the very private Amish mourning rituals for five slain school girls in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Few from the outside world will ever see up close these extraordinarily private and pacifistic people as they deal with the enormous suffering of losing their children to a brutal act of violence.
While they live differently, the Amish are the first to dispel any notion they are better than us. One "preacher" told me, "You English (their term for the non-Amish) sometimes think we're perfect; we're not. We've got all the problems you have, and we have bad people, too. It could have been an Amish that did this." Still, it is at times of great suffering and loss that the best of what the Amish are truly shines.
As I visited in the victims' homes, sat on the mourning benches, talked with the families about the details of that terrible day, and watched one mother tenderly care for her daughter's damaged body, I was struck by how prepared they were for this. Not simply in a technical sense, but in a deeply spiritual, philosophical and moral sense. The Amish were well rehearsed for this tragedy.
This religious movement began five centuries ago under fierce persecution. Over that time they have carefully lived out and preserved a strict way of life based on their interpretation of Jesus' words in the Gospel, "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth. But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." (Matthew 5:38-39)
The Amish know this commitment leaves them vulnerable to precisely the kind of harm that befell their children on October 2, 2006. So, they have used their historic silence and cloistered existence as a shield against a hostile outside world. Sadly, that shield proved ineffective against a threat as close as a neighborhood milk truck driver. But they have a backup for such a failure. It was epitomized in a scene I will never forget, when a grandfather stood at the foot of his own murdered granddaughter's coffin and said, "It is important to teach our children not to think evil of the man who did this." It was a remarkable act of generosity; one expressed earlier when Amish emissaries went to the killer's family offering complete forgiveness and an invitation to the funerals.
And finally, I observed, first-hand, the power of forgiveness. When I visited the home of shooter Charles Roberts, I saw this amazing principle in action: in the almost supernaturally generous extension of immediate forgiveness by the victims' families; and, in the humble way the Roberts' accepted this gift. Others in the Roberts' circumstances might have refused such an offer, whether out of guilt, or shame, or simply their own pain, but the Roberts humbly accepted. An Amish leader explained the importance of this by saying, "God has offered us forgiveness for our sins in the work of Christ on the Cross, but we must accept that gift to enjoy it. Once we've accepted it, then we can share it in small measure with others." Because the Roberts' accepted the gift, they can continue to share it, and this cycle of forgiveness will go on to heal this community much faster than one embroiled in hatred and vindictiveness.”
I hope and pray that my capacity to forgive will never be tested in such a way. At the same time I hope that I can become a part of the cycle of forgiveness in ways large and small. There is nothing easy about forgiving. But the hard work that it takes pays off in ways seen and unseen.
Amy Miracle