Last year I was traveling in a South American country only a few days before a national referendum was scheduled. Brightly colored banners were strung between lampposts. There were loudspeakers and music, rallies, and handbills passed along in the crowded streets. Yet, considering the intense political, social, and personal issues at stake, the atmosphere seemed to me strangely uncharged with the kind of anger or violence a visitor might have expected.
The people would be voting that next weekend to decide if there should be a blanket amnesty for the military, who had previously ruled the country under a cloud of serious human-rights abuses. As the voting day approached, perhaps what had helped to ease the tensions was something reflected in a report I read. The report spoke of an important change already taking place for some of those who had been among the most injured. It's the kind of change that would have to be essential for healing the wounds of any society coming through such a divisive and tragic ordeal. And in fact the transformation that most needs to occur actually has little to do with official policies or political decisionmaking. Rather it must ultimately involve individual acts of basic forgiveness and real love.
Certainly that kind of thing is often difficult for people on the outside of the actual events to comprehend. Yet when true forgiveness does happen, even the most hardened cynic may have to admit that the genuine Christian response isn't weakness at all but a powerful force for good.
