We are called to forgive and remember — but this is hard work

‘An eye for an eye’ is not civilized justice, writes minister John Pentland

This has been a dark, heavy month for many in our city as we have once again watched, read, or talked about the horrific murders of Alvin and Kathy Liknes, and their grandson Nathan O’Brien.

I attended two days of the trial at the invitation of a family member.

I was struck by how we live in a fine and civilized society, where such horrific crimes can be reviewed and judged with respect for all, and with diligence for a right doing of justice.

I was amazed by the dignity reflected in and around the courtroom, essential to the legal system itself.

Jury members, legal counsel, clerks, media and members of the family endured on a daily basis, the gruesome evidence and testimonies of unthinkable content and reports of unthinkable violence. They did so with grace. This has been an unimaginably painful public process for all. For members of the families, theirs is a rare and violent grief many of us cannot conceive of, one they will live with forever.

My connection to the case is unique. I presided over Nathan’s baptism. At the service, I spoke about baptism not as a protection from life, but rather as an invitation to it.

I now see that baptism is also a true surrender to whatever life presents us, including darkness, and yet a full promise that we are not alone even in the face of evil.

I also presided over the funerals of Kathy and Alvin. I reminded all in attendance that nothing separates us from the love of God. I reflected words of hope at Nathan’s memorial. We tried to celebrate his boyhood zest and love of superheroes — we wished that a superhero had saved the day in the face of unimaginable darkness. The celebration brought some solace. Two years later, the nightmare replayed.

In the end, the judgment placed on Douglas Garland was fitting. He is a severely disturbed person. He is a person with a dark and damaged soul. His darkest of mental illness is severe. His sentence is accurate. All of us were relieved when he got the maximum sentence possible.

He now resides in a deeper and darker isolation behind bars.

On the day he was pronounced guilty, he was further judged and sentenced at the Calgary Remand Centre.

In this second judgment, he was beaten.

Perhaps some of us felt this vigilantism was justified; many will have whispered, “He deserved it.”

I wonder: Do we all need to take a step back, and recognize this illegitimate beating is an assault on each of us, as on the dignity of the whole court and legal process?

Perhaps our condoning of such actions gives expression to our inner rage and pain.

But what if this is precisely not the time to aspire to more violence?

If we are to live in a trustworthy society, we need to recognize that “eye for an eye” is not civilized justice.

Every person is entitled to protection and basic human rights, even if those we protect did not exercise the same. This upholding is what we rely on in our Canadian society.

Forgiveness is an extremely difficult practice.

I would never demand someone to forgive another. Perhaps we have things we cannot or will not forgive.

Forgiveness takes time, in some cases, a lifetime.

I believe we are not called to forgive and forget; rather, to forgive and remember so that the present and future are transformed for the good.

We forgive so we are set free to live and love more fully, regardless of what life presents.

This is our greatest aspiration. It brings us our greatest freedom.

We long to find ways to stop violent madness, here and throughout the world. We pray, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Suddenly, these words take on radical, demanding, and transformative meaning. This is hard work.

As we sit in our post-trial haze, we are all in need of healing and the vigilance required to embody a more safe and connected society.

In doing so, the lives and deaths of Kathy, Alvin and Nathan will be more fully honoured, and we rise to combat evil and violence not with hate and fear, but with love.

This is our greatest work.