Their forgiveness was striking. Members of Charleston’s Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church lost nine cherished members in a terrifying shooting in 2015 and offered swift absolution. Holding back tears, Nadine Collier, whose mother was killed in the attack, said, “but God forgive you, and I forgive you.” Astonishing.
Fast forward to the time of Pope Leo XIV, who provides an expansive way to view forgiveness:
True forgiveness does not wait for contrition but is offered first as a gift. When we experience wounds and betrayal, let us ask for the grace to offer true forgiveness, even when we feel misunderstood and abandoned, or even when it seems to be in vain. In this way, may we know the freedom and peace that comes from a loving and forgiving heart. (Summary of the General Audience, 20 August 2025)
During Lent and the Easter season, we have had a chance to reflect on sin, seek forgiveness, and experience the gift of God’s mercy. Forgiving those who cause harm is scriptural, uplifting, and what Jesus taught. Indeed, when we pattern our mode of forgiveness on the mercy and grace of God, it may be easier to view the hurting world and our own sinfulness with a loving and forgiving heart.
The grace of God is a miracle itself. Julian of Norwich noted, “First the fall, and then the recovery from the fall, and both are the mercy of God.” God loves us every bit as much when we fall as when we get back up. The concept of falling reminds my friend of when she was teaching her child with special needs to walk. He would struggle to take a step and then fall. He’d get back up, struggle to take a step, and then fall. Each time, my friend stood ready to catch her son, soothe and reassure him of her love, and set him up to try again. That is what God does.
“A parent will never love a child any less when he falls,” my friend said. “I loved him even more in his vulnerability and struggle. It was part of his desire to grow and thrive.” In this context she said, “God doesn’t love us any less; he loves us without condition.”
God knows our weaknesses and frailties better than we know them ourselves. God has given us free will that allows us to experience the temptations of sin. He knows why we fall, ask for forgiveness, and gain God’s mercy, only to fall short again.
The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (Matthew 18:21–35) reminds us that, for our sins to be forgiven, we are obligated to offer forgiveness to those who sin against us. The faithful congregants of that Charleston church had the courage that few could muster. For in forgiving their shooter, they would be forgiven.
But are we ready to ask God for forgiveness, and are we ready to forgive ourselves? Why wallow in sadness, guilt, and self-loathing for sins that God has already forgiven? Turning away from God and God’s mercy, we grow further from the ideal that God has for us. Like the child learning to walk, we must move beyond the fall. We must face our transgressions and failures, seek forgiveness, and forgive ourselves. God loves us no less when we sin; why should we?
