Volume 30, No. 28
July 17, 2005
The Give In Forgiveness
In the east African nation of Uganda, there really are monsters who come in
the night and steal children from their beds.
For 18 years, war has raged between the government and insurgents calling
themselves the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA.) Rebel leader Joseph Kony talks of
making the Ten Commandments the law of the land but he and his soldiers kill and
rape without conscience. They’ve kidnapped almost 20,000 children in the last
two decades.
While doing a documentary on the conflict, I heard firsthand the horrific
tales of young boys who were forced to kill other kids and drink their blood, or
go home and murder their own families, ensuring they had nowhere to run if they
escaped. Girls told of becoming sex slaves. Today, the abductions continue and
rebels still cut off the lips, hands, noses and breasts of villagers as constant
warnings to others.
Now the International Criminal Court plans to issue arrest warrants for rebel
commanders, but many victims and their religious leaders — Christian and Muslim
— want to end the war with roots and raw eggs instead. Those are the tools of
traditional forgiveness. In a recent gathering, 28 rebel defectors lined up on
a hilltop, each of them guilty of murder, maiming and mayhem. One after the
other, they stuck their bare right feet in a freshly cracked egg symbolizing the
breaking open of a new life and a restoration of innocence. By dipping in it,
the killers were going back to the way they used to be.
Next, the former fighters brushed against the branch of a pobo tree, for
symbolic cleansing. Then, by stepping over a wooden pole, they were welcomed
back into the community by those in authority. "I ask for forgiveness," said
thirty-four-year-old Charles Otim, a rebel who was abducted by the LRA himself,
at age 16. "We have wronged you."
When welcomed back, the offender must sit down with tribal leaders, confess
his crimes, and pay the families of his victims compensation, such as cows,
goats or sheep. Both sides sip from a gourd a drink made of bitter roots,
representing the swallowing of pride and resentment, and reconciliation is made
complete with the bending of two spears to make them useless for fighting.
Though many victims undergo an inner struggle between rage and forgiveness,
retaliation is rare and a remarkable number who were left disfigured or
childless by the rebels support reconciliation, partly because the young killers
were victimized first.
While this mind-bending embrace of reconciliation over revenge seems radical
at first, it echoes the teachings of Jesus and serves as a symbol of our own
forgiveness. After all, the apostle Paul says we’re sold into slavery with sin
as our master (Rom. 7:14.) Though each of us must accept full responsibility
for the bad we do, most of us know exactly what Paul means when he says, “No
matter which way I turn, I can’t make myself do right. I want to, but I can’t.”
(Rom. 7:18) From the depths of his powerlessness, he cries, “Who will save me
from this life dominated by sin? Thank God! The answer’s in Jesus Christ our
Lord.” (7:25)
When He went to the Cross to take the punishment for our sins, Jesus cleared
the way for us to defect from forces that manipulate our weakness and
vulnerability. His brokeness symbolizes our new beginning as we dip — not our
soles, but our souls — in that sacred symbol of life, his blood. Our innocence
is restored and we’re cleansed by our brush with Jesus, who’s referred to by the
prophets as the Branch (Zechariah 3:8).
He welcomes us back into the community of God when we make our decision to
seek forgiveness at that wooden pole upon which our guilt is nailed. “We’re
made right in God’s sight when we trust in Jesus Christ to take away our sins
And we can all be saved in this same way, no matter who we are or what we’ve
done.” (Romans 3:25)
In return, God expects us to make amends among those we’ve harmed, swallow
our pride and bitterness and bend our wills in submission to his gift of peace
and reconciliation. Experiencing his love and forgiveness is often the first
step in the tortuous journey of forgiving ourselves and those who’ve victimized
us. As the Ugandans well know, ultimate victory is found in surrender.
By Rick Gamble, published in Cross Current, the weekly newsletter of the
Followers of Christ church family in Brantford, Ontario, Canada. Reprint at
will in not-for-profit publications. To receive these free weekly articles via
email, send a note to
sgamble@bfree.on.ca