An IRA bomber and the child of a victim of his

The story this links to is one of the most interesting and articulate and possibly the most challenging to make sense of in terms of forgiveness. First of all there seems to be no desire to be forgiven on the part of Pat, he stands by his actions. Then there is Jo saying "But I can experience empathy, and in that moment there is no judgement. Sometimes when I’ve met with Pat, I’ve had such a clear understanding of his life that there’s nothing to forgive." So, in some ways this story may not be about forgiveness at all as the protagonists understand it. But that seems to be all part of the difficulty of defining it in the first place.

Jo says also "To say “I forgive you” is almost condescending – it locks you into an ‘us and them’ scenario keeping me right and you wrong". Which seems to be almost directly opposite to the way that previously-considered stories have defined it, where it has been precisely about not locking into an 'us and them' scenario.

However, the other interesting thing is the tie-up with notions of right and wrong. And I suspect that this is the key thought to understanding Jo and Pat's perspectives here: I think that it is true, given exporations so far, that forgiveness is about recognising right and wrong first of all. If there has been no wrong then we are not going to forgivel there is nothing to forgive. Only if a wrong has been committed do we find ourselves in the land of forgiveness. So Jo's empathy -very real and sympathetic understanding- of Pat's perspective is actually about [in terms of what I've reflected before] excusing. Pat doesn't want forgiveness but understanding and 'excusing'.

Jo writes: "Over the past two and a half years of getting to know Pat, I feel I've been recovering some of the humanity I lost when that bomb went off. Pat is also on a journey to recover his humanity". I find this intriguing; what humanity has been lost? What does it mean to recover it?

Given that the next sentence is about how Pat can find it hard to know that he has come to care for the daughter of "someone he killed through his terrorist actions". I think that Jo sees that linked to the issue of lost humanity: so perhaps it's something to do with recognising and feeling a common humanity, caring for others, having compassion. But I find this intriguing too because lost humanity is an issue of right and wrong in some way, surely [?] -the very framing of the issue implies that losing humanity is in some way wrong while gaining it or retaining it is right or at least 'better'. However, perhaps it isn't a case of right and wrong in the simple sense but we actually do start to move into the area of notions of sin. Humanity is good but losing humanity is something that may not be wrong in terms of a specific wrong done to another person; it may be that a lost humanity results in wrongdoing though; which does sound something like the relationship between sin and sins.

So what it looks to me like we have in this story is a recognition of common humanity and a fellowship in fallenness in some way. In my [christian-informed] terms the loss of humanity alluded to seems to be a kind of proto-recognition of 'falling short of the glory of God'. There is seen to be some kind of justification for Pat's actions but somehow that something important has nevertheless been lost in the doing of them. However this is also located in a web of wrongdoing that is not only about the perpetrator who is also seen as something of a victim. It does seem that we are in the territory of original sin here. But where do we go to find forgiveness or healing for a lost humanity? The loss of humanity is a sin against onself and against God ... it is surely included in that phrase in one of the Anglican general confessions "... we have marred your image in us...."

Pat while standng by his actions says " I will always carry the burden that I harmed other human beings". What is this burden? Lost humanity? a recognition of wrong at some other level? Is there a mixture of admission of wrong here and yet justification which has yet remained unpicked. Is there a need for a perpetrator of a wrong, at least in some cases [perhaps of deliberate action], to feel that their reasons are understood and seen to have some kind of justifications in notions of right or justice or even empathy before thay can be in a place to recognise the wrong in what they have done. It would certainly fit with what we know from work with conflict resolution; that it is important for people to feel really 'heard' before they can properly address what is being said on/by the other side.

Forgiveness cannot escape wrestling implicitly or explicitly with ideas of right and wrong. Sometimes it is hard to unpick the rights and wrongs and even to decide just what is right and wrong. Pat's work with Causeway and its healing work seems to be a recognition that in the grander scheme of things there is something wrong about violence... Jo's empathetic response is perhaps Pat's best chance to feel heard and understood and so come to a place where wrongdoing could be acknowledged and he might be able to decide not to stand by what he has done. That sounds judgemental of me, perhaps ... and maybe I have something to learn. ?

However, I do recognise in Pat's reaction -as I read it here- something in my own reactions to finding myself having to recognise that something is wrong and that I am implicated in it (see, even the way I'm writing about it is 'shifty'). It is hard to admit my part in it unless I feel that someone can at least see that I had good or at least understandable reasons for doing [or not doing] as I did. If I feel that there is some understanding then it becomes easier and even possible to put that aside and deal with what I find hard to face -that I have done wrong. Hard to face because it cuts at the knee my sense of self-esteem and my sense of being esteemed by others; I feel shame waits at the door and perhaps even guilt stands behind that.

In relation to God this tells me how important it is that we have a real sense of God's loving empathy before we can admit sin. If we do not feel that, I find it hard to know how how we could actually confess our sins.