April 13, 2025 Essay: Islands of Hope and Forgiveness
Though Easter and its promise of new life are peeking over the horizon, many are finding it difficult to be hopeful. Chaos and division deepen, alienation triumphs over solidarity, and institutions many of us value are being destroyed. I find myself returning to the wisdom of Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung, written in the darkest days of World War II: “Is there still a chance to save ourselves from this spiritual decay? Yes, but a miracle will have to happen. And miracles only happen when one believes in miracles. Small islands like mountaintops would have to grow out of the chaotic sludge; islands of contemplation and of a sense of justice. Perhaps a new world will develop from these islands.”
Jung’s words were an act of hope. He was affirming that there is light deep within the human heart that can overcome darkness; that destruction will not have the last word. A new world can rise from the sludge. This future world, a new order on earth that Jesus called the Kingdom of God, is ultimately God’s work but requires our cooperation.
Among the primary ways we can help bring about this kingdom is through the practice of forgiveness. There are forces that are actively working against God’s dream, forces that seek to keep us mired in a feedback loop of hate, conflict, polarization, revenge, violence, and isolation. To forgive is to break these cycles and to resist the forces that stir, and often profit from, them. Forgiveness becomes an act of hope in the face of the “chaotic sludge,” a way to pull ourselves up from the muck that wants to drown us.
The theologian Richard McBrien wrote, “Hope measures everything against the standard of the coming kingdom. It views reality, therefore, in terms of the totality of human relationships: with God, the neighbor, the world, the self.” Forgiveness likewise has the power to touch and transform every aspect of reality – the intrapersonal, collective, environmental, and global. For when we forgive, we no longer transmit to others the hurt we carry. A space for something new is created, and deeper, more authentic love is possible. An island rises in the sludge where new life can flourish.
Jesus journeyed through his final days steadfast in hope, hope that the One he called his “Abba” would sustain him through the darkness and transform death into life. Among the ways Jesus witnessed to hope was through the ultimate words he spoke from the cross, “Forgive them…for they know not what they do.” This was perhaps his most defiant act of hope, a counter-witness in the maelstrom of violence that plots to seduce the human heart to impulsively seek revenge. In his last words on the cross, Jesus shows us how to escape the endless cycles of retribution into which we often fall.
Jesus invites us to a forgiveness that is not passive, but actively resists the evil of vengeance and retaliation, a forgiveness that confronts abuse and maintains the dignity of all. He models a way of forgiving that is hopeful and leads to new life. Jesus seeks the healing and redemption of all, and in doing so, teaches us the costly truth that our being forgiven hinges on our forgiveness of others.
The resurrection symbolizes the “miracle” of which Jung wrote, but before we can experience that new life, we must pass through Gethsemane, observe Good Friday, and wait in the quiet darkness of the tomb. As we walk with Jesus through Triduum, we are invited to face those places within and without that are marked by woundedness, alienation, brokenness, and anger. I invite you to join Jesus in making forgiveness a part of your practice in these holy days. In doing this we witness with him to hope that something new is possible, that wounded and dead hearts can be made whole in resurrection.
— Brian Pinter, Pastoral Associate