On Forgiveness And Hate

(This was crossposted to D103.com, but I felt the need to include it here, as well.)

This evening, I, a few other members of the church I attend here in Blacksburg, and a few fellow Tech students had a rare treat. We were visited by the retired Bishop George Irvine, who lived in South Africa during the height of apartheid. He guided the churches under him through the downfall of the nationalist government there and the eventual election of Nelson Mandela as president. Let me tell you, folks, this guy is the real deal. He's lived through a real, pivotal moment of history, and he taught me several things about forgiveness and the capacity humans have for both good and evil. All in just about an hour.

I had read about apartheid before, but I was far too young while it was still being practiced to ever really think about what it meant. I didn't realize, for instance, that it was instated as a "protection" against Communism. I didn't understand the race registration and relocation laws that were passed, forcing millions of blacks to move out of their homes, which were levelled in the night, minutes after the security police piled in entire families and hauled them away. I couldn't fathom the hatred, fear, and racism that a government could operate under. Bishop Irvine led his own quiet opposition as a leader of the church, serving over the black churches as well as the white, not submitting to corruption by the government, and refusing to treat any person as anything but equal. He bent the rules as best he could, often coming at direct odds with the police forces. One quote I'll never forget from tonight was, "The thing about evil I've noticed is that it doesn't have a sense of humor. So I would play around with [the security policemen], telling them I was praying for them and the 'difficult' job they had to do."

I was in early middle school when the newly-instated government of South Africa held its first democratic election in 1994. I was far too young to understand the magnitude of this event, signifying the end of such a frightening system. Bishop Irvine was there, and when Nelson Mandela was freed from prison a few years prior, Mr. Mandela had called all the bishops to a meeting. There, Mandela told them two things that he had been thinking about while incarcerated on Robin Island. The first I cannot quote directly (I wish I'd taken notes), but the second I will also never forget: "Never meet an enemy that you don't want to turn into a friend." This was coming from a man who had been tortured daily by the security police, after all his freedoms had been taken away. This same man ended up ruling the new government and ended up fighting for amnesty to some of the same prison wardens and officers that had mistreated him. I have to ask myself if I could ever have that capacity for forgiveness.

Yes, my friends, I heard the real deal tonight, and I'm glad for it. I only hope I don't lose sight of his lessons.