It always seems that whenever I set out to write about something specific it changes and I feel inspired to go in another direction. This post will be no different. For those not familiar with the concept of Deus ex machina, it is a plot device wherein everything works out in the end. This can either be by divine intervention (god out of the machine), or some heretofore unknown skill on the part of the protagonist, or in many other ways—as long as the happy ending is achieved.
I don’t think I ever fully admitted it to myself until the other day, but the Harry Potter series is absolutely rife with it. It makes me a little sad to admit that because I am such a huge fan of the books (don’t ask me how many times I have read the series) and I have always considered it to be a lazy plot device. I could go on and on about Harry Potter here, but I won’t, I only mentioned it to illustrate what I am talking about.
The avenue I want to discuss regarding this plot device is the ever-present criminal who has found God. I applaud anyone who has taken the internal journey it takes to truly change themselves, to grow, and to improve their spiritual life (whatever that may look like). I have to admit though, that I am suspicious. I have been the victim of crime, and a few years ago I learned that the perpetrator of said crime has found God. My first instinct was “good for them”, but as I thought more about it I couldn’t tame the beast that rose up inside of me. I couldn’t quench the white-hot flames that beat against my insides at the injustice of two little words (I’m saved) being all it took for said criminal to go through the rest of this mortal existence unmarred. The thought that they are free still pounds the drums of blood in my ears; I am never free.
To be able to commit sometimes unspeakable crimes against another human being and then claim that you have not only found God, but that God has forgiven you leaves me a little hollow. I have Mormon guilt on top of Catholic guilt if I even think about half the things I have done (and I haven’t really done anything all that bad). I sometimes wonder if I am just completely incapable of forgiving myself and that is why I cannot find the forgiveness I seek. Sometimes the answer isn’t always that easy though.
I think sometimes the deus ex machina of criminals who find this peace comes from a place of no remorse, no guilt, no conscience, and a willingness to absolve oneself of sin. In essence, as often happens, it is man creating God in the image of himself. “I forgive myself, so God must also.” True repentance doesn’t come that easy. It is not enough to say “Well, I have found God, and I won’t commit any more crimes, so all is well!” Restitution is a part of the repentance process wherever possible.
I don’t want to discourage people from walking the road of repentance, and I don’t want to discourage spiritual journeys, but I do want to discourage the idea that somehow all it takes are the words and we are free. You may have your happy endings, but the carnage you have left in your wake testifies against you. In Matthew 5:45 Jesus says “…for He maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good…” just don’t forget about the rain.
This is wonderful. Thanks for writing it. This post speaks to a problem I’ve seen within the church and eslewhere: Forgiveness as denial.
Those who commit unspeakable criminal acts must fully acknowledge – to themselves, to the vicitims and to God – the exact nature of their crime. They must make full restitution (which is not possible in this life for some types of crime, so at least become willing to provide restitution i.e. thousands of dollars for counseling services for said victims, even knowing they may never see said victim again.) They must also become willing to suffer natural consequences (see above) including criminal prosecution and incarceration and then follow through with all other aspects of the “saving” process that accompanies a true change of heart.
I’m sure you already know this, but, Christ’s atonement does not absolve anyone of guilt. It surely does not save us in our sins. But it does provide a means by which we may become truly free – both as perpetrators and vicitims.
And forgiveness doesn’t really come into the equation when the criminal has not completed the repentence process. (There are those who will argue with this, but I know by my own experience that the word “forgiveness” has a companion word “repentence” and only when both are present can “at-one-ment” be realized.) But freedom is another matter. The truth about Happy Endings is exactly as you’ve described: They come at a cost. Even for the protagonist.
That’s an interesting theory re: atonement requiring both repentance and forgiveness. Sounds logical to me.
I think an interesting story line would be an examination of the lives of the innocent bystanders in movies. Like what happens to all the people who get killed in the James Bond movies as an example. I think that we pass over the complexity of what happens when we move around in our lives. The things that haunt me are the things I should have done, but didn’t.
Those are some of the things that haunt me as well. When I start to stray too far down that road I just think of words from RENT “forget regret, or life is yours to miss…” I am a regretful person by nature and I would never leave my house.
I wonder on the other hand whether we over complicate forgiveness. The Savior makes a habit in the New Testament of frankly forgiving people. I don’t find any evidence of him saying that someone needs to wait a year prior to receiving forgiveness or that they need to refrain from some element of fellowship such as saying public prayers or partaking of the sacrament. To the woman taken in the very act of adultery he forgives. To the thief and the murder, he forgives. The only ones who don’t appear to receive immediate forgiveness are those who don’t show any interest in it. Is there a scriptural basis for requiring restitution prior to extending forgiveness? I wonder about the theological basis or the wisdom in telling a member who has committed a chastity or word of wisdom indiscretion that they can’t partake of the sacrament until they have a period of prescribed abstinence under their belt. I wonder about the theological basis or wisdom for determining that forgiveness cannot come until a criminal penalty has been served. I have seen too much of the whims of the legal system to believe that God would abdicate his authority to the district attorney or to judges.
I would love to see bishops and stake presidents empowered to say to one who they discern is sincere in that moment, “Thy sins are forgiven thee. Go forth and sin no more.”
On the other hand, for an offense to a child, I have a hard time wishing them anything other than the promised millstone. I realize that is inconsistent, but those are my thoughts.
Word of Wisdom, and Chastity indiscretions do not infringe on the rights and bodily autonomy of others so I see no need for (nor how one could be accomplished) restitution. Jesus never specifically says “don’t take the sacrament” but it is well-settled that while mercy is a part of forgiveness so is justice.
If Bishops had the ability to look on the heart the way Jesus did, then sure, I would be right behind you in your wishes, but they don’t. I have seen too much easy forgiveness because of eloquent words and it is unjust.
Like I said, I would never discourage a person from taking a spiritual journey, most especially one toward forgiveness, but restitution is a part of that, and there is great wisdom in it.
Maybe it is just selective reporting by the writers of the Gospels, but was there anyone who sought forgiveness to whom he did not extend it? The only condemnations from him were to accusatory hypocrites (some of whom questioned whether the recipients of his forgiveness were worthy of it or whether he was worthy or empowered to extend it). To harlots, sinners and outcasts, he extended full fellowship as near as I can tell.
Does the story in Luke 7 have anything to say about this? Christ gets invited to dinner to a publican’s house and while there a “woman in the city, which was a sinner” weeps at his feet, anoints him and bathes his feet in her tears. When the pharisee smugly wondered about Christ’s apparent acceptance of her attention, Christ then gives the parable of the creditor whose two debtors owed 500 pence and the other 50. “And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both.” Neither debtor gave restitution. Neither could. The hypothetical money lender merely forgave the debts, both of them. In fact his point seems to be to call attention to the fact that the guy who got off of the 500 pence hook was getting easy forgiveness. Christ was not only ok with that, but that seemed to be the point. The “frank” forgiveness was not only ok, it caused its own good–the one who received forgiveness of the bigger debt would love even more, just as the woman whose sins were likely sexual sins. At the end, he says, “Thy sins are forgiven. . . Thy faith hath saved thee; go in peace.” It seems that all that he required of her is faith and love. You are right that sexual sins cannot serve as the basis for restitution but he went straight from the immediate example of sexual sin to comparing it to a sin where restitution was theoretically possible (even though they had no immediate means to achieve that restitution). The money lender frankly forgave the debts without a requirement of a present or future payment. Christ frankly forgave her for her sins and in her case the only requirement was to “go in peace.”
When a young man or young woman comes to the bishop with shame and faith because of what they did in the back seat of a car or on the computer or in the shower I wonder if it would help our people more to follow the savior’s model of evaluating their faith and love rather than their proven track record of self-control before saying “Thy sins are forgiven thee. Go in peace.” And if it happens again and again, I wonder if it would help more to again follow the model of the Savior who asked the bewildered folks in America “how oft have I gathered you as a hen gather her chickens under her wings. . . And again, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gather her chickens under her wings . . . yea, how oft would I have gathered you as a hen gathereth her chickens, and ye would not . . . how oft will I gather you as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, if ye will repent and return unto me with full purpose of heart.” (3 Ne 10: 4-6). His repetitive and repeated trope suggests that frequent and redundant repenters are welcome and expected.
Our present model of having the sinner establish a pattern of self-control presupposes the hope that this sin will be licked. I think Christ’s model presupposes no such thing. Just faith, love and a willingness to forgive others and to permit them to be forgiven.
Easy for me to say. So hard for me to do.
I thank you for the lesson on my own religious beliefs, but I assure you that I am already familiar with what is contained within the Bible. Again I say that Bishops are not Christ, and in fact insisting that they are is borderline blasphemous. If we will all be easily and frankly forgiven then why not eat drink and be merry? I can go about murdering at will, stealing from people, cheating them, and abusing them as long as I give a wink and a smile and say “Hey Jesus, a bit of forgiveness over here, eh?” No, it doesn’t work that way. It requires more from us. We are to be perfect IN Christ–giving all of ourselves and he will make up the difference. What you are proposing would not only be inequitable treatment of each other, it would be inequitable treatment before God. I contend no such thing exists.
EOR, you articulated your views well. My offense was unintended. Please accept my apologies. I hope we can continue the discussion without umbrage.
I agree that a Bishop is not the Christ, but I see him as Christ’s representative and the particular representative who is tasked with determining worthiness to participate in communal ordinances and rituals.
I am clearly not Christ, and yet he enjoins me to forgive all people regardless of whether he does or not. He warns me that if I fail to forgive those around me and that if I resent the forgiveness extended to them that I will be judged by my same reluctance to forgive. For that reason, when I go to bed at night, I pray for mercy, never for justice. I also have to pray quite a bit to help me to be more forgiving. It doesn’t come naturally. Yearning for justice from others’ wrongs comes very naturally to me. And yet although I have sometimes felt satisfied when others wrongs to me have been made just (got my stuff back, received a sincere heart felt apology, etc.), I have never felt peace from the receipt of justice. Justice is sometimes satisfying, but not sanctifying. My own personal reading of the gospel is that forgiveness is sanctifying.