By Andy Brack, editor and publisher, Charleston Currents | The whole notion of forgiveness has been in the front of many people’s minds in the weeks since the massacre at Emanuel AME Church. Just how, they wonder, could family members of the victims, one after another, forgive the accused shooter so quickly after such a reprehensible deed?
One pastor explains forgiving is the natural, almost instinctive reaction of people whose lives are based on a deep faith in God. Because of faith, they already feel forgiven for the sins they confess to their maker. When an evil was done to members of their family, forgiveness was the way for the faithful person to cope and react.
(Editor’s Note: Today we turn this space to our son, Andy, who writes of a new book by a former Gwinnettian now living in Asheville, N.C. –eeb)
The act of forgiving, this pastor said, allows those who mourn to feel free of hatred, free of anger, free of bitterness. Instead of spiraling down and succumbing to the evil, they stare it in the face and find solace in what they’ve learned for generations from their families and their churches — to feel free to love, not hate.
It’s pure New Testament. Jesus Christ taught love and forgiveness, observes the Rev. Joseph Darby, presiding elder of the local AME churches. It’s part of what blacks, often powerless in a patriarchal, plantation society, had to do to survive.
“Black people had to coexist with people who owned them, who could rape, kill or sell them, and the black people couldn’t strike back,” says Darby, a longtime civil rights activist. “Black folk in South Carolina learned to forgive.”
A new novel by Asheville author Vally Sharpe may offer some help and warmth to those struggling with faith, reality and forgiveness.
The Gospel According to Emily is a tender, touching story of a Georgia family with two sons, one of whom is a little different. This son helps people, does good deeds and changes lives as he tries to unburden people of their troubles. The parallels to the story of Christ are familiar and comfortable.
In a key passage, Sharpe examines how people can interpret the same incident in different ways, which is instructive for those seeking to better understand forgiveness.
Consider how a guy stuck in rush-hour traffic might react if he were cut off by another driver who slid ahead of him. The enraged driver could speed up — even bump the rear of the driver’s car to get him to pull off the road, which could then escalate into a fight, or even worse — one of them would pull a gun on the other.
But what if, Sharpe wondered, the guy who slid ahead of the other car was lost or made an honest mistake. He might not have even realized that he did something wrong because of the error. If the second guy knew that — instead of assuming malice — the reaction might have been different. Sharpe writes:
“We do it all the time. We focus on scarcity where there is none and by hoarding whatever we think is scarce for ourselves against the day we imagine it will all run out, we bring bona fide scarcity into existence.
“If you buy into that definition of power, then the only way you can contain your fear is by destroying those you think are out to take it away from you — by influencing others to perceive them as dangerous to them, too. But real power can’t be taken away.”
Forgiving, as Sharpe suggests in the novel that she calls “an imagining,” offers real power that strips away hate and feelings that will destroy. Isn’t that how victims’ families reacted to the Emanuel Nine tragedy? You can purchase Sharpe’s book at Amazon.com.
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