Some time ago I remember reading the extraordinary testimony of a Rwandan Jesuit, Fr. Marcel Uwineza, titled, Risen from the Ashes. Marcel was only fourteen when Rwanda descended into genocide in 1994. His family was devastated; his parents, two brothers and a sister were among those were killed, and more than forty members of his extended family were dead too. For a teenager who had grown up in a deeply Christian home, what disappeared was not simply his family. For a time, even God seemed to disappear
Years later Marcel joined the Jesuits. In 2003, before being sent abroad for further studies, he returned to his village to pray at the graves of his family. There he suddenly encountered the man who had killed his family. The man had served time in prison and had been released. Marcel later said something striking: the man had been released by the government, but he had not yet been released by Marcel’s heart. Then the killer knelt before him and asked, “Marcel… do you have space in your heart to forgive me?”
The Power of Forgiveness
Imagine that moment. There are occasions when “What would Jesus do?” suddenly becomes a considerably less comfortable question. Marcel admits that he was frightened and confused. But he says he felt overtaken by a power greater than himself. He asked the man to stand, embraced him and forgave him. He felt as though chains had fallen from his own legs. He realized that although the murderer had been imprisoned, Marcel too had been living in a prison. Later the two men even went to a nearby pub or restaurant, shared a drink and wept together.
Fr. Marcel Uwineza went on to earn his doctorate at Boston College, and in 2019 addressed the United Nations General Assembly on the 25th anniversary of the genocide.
His story makes today’s Gospel sound very different. Jesus says, “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone.” Notice: Jesus does not begin by telling us to eliminate the difficult person. He begins by asking whether the relationship can still be redeemed.
Where Victory Truly Resides
We are becoming increasingly comfortable with quick exits from relationships. If you Hurt me badly enough and I can remove you from my life. Yes, Sometimes boundaries are absolutely necessary; and Jesus himself recognizes in this Gospel that reconciliation cannot be forced. But Christianity asks a harder question before the door is finally closed: Have I made any real attempt to recover the person?
Jesus says, “If he listens to you, you have won over your brother.” That is a remarkable definition of victory. Usually when there is conflict, victory means proving that I was right. We arrive carrying dates, quotations and evidence.
Jesus says the victory is not winning the argument. It is winning the brother back. Fr. Marcel discovered that forgiveness did not change what had happened in 1994. His family did not return. The graves remained graves. Forgiveness did something else: it prevented the murderer from continuing to occupy Marcel’s future.
Sometimes we think forgiveness means unlocking the prison door for the person who hurt us. Then one day we discover that the door we opened was our own. So here is the ask, and it's modest compared to what we just heard about Fr. Marcel: think of the smaller grudge you've been carrying. If a boy who buried his own family could kneel beside his family's killer and say "I forgive you," surely we can return the phone call.
