After decades of armed conflict in Colombia, how do those most affected by that conflict understand forgiveness? While others have researched Colombians’ views of forgiveness, this study is the first to do so through discussion of a narrative of forgiveness. Readings of the biblical narrative chosen for this study, the Parable of the Unforgiving Debtor (Mt 18:21–35), can enable North Atlantic scholars to discover dimensions of the parable revealed by those who live lives that mirror the realities of the parable, unlike such scholars. The study aims to understand how conflict survivors, especially internally displaced persons (IDPs), understand forgiveness and its relation to politics. The study also aims to identify how these women and men read Matthew 18:21–35 differently from academics. Groups in eight locations around Colombia discussed Matthew 18:21–35. Researchers led
A country of 48 million people, Colombia has suffered from a blighted reputation on the international scene. This is because of its historically entrenched violence, bolstered in the last 40 years by deep ideological polarisation, by lucrative illicit drug trafficking, and by one of the most unequal wealth distributions in the world (ed. Bouvier
In a setting where conflict has permeated society, forgiveness is needed to end cycles of retribution. Rather than prescribing a vision of forgiveness, the authors wished to hear from those who have survived the conflict about how they understand and experience forgiveness. We wished to discover how forgiveness might serve to forge community among people from different backgrounds, many of whom are living in a new place after experiencing displacement. We also wanted to attend to forgiveness as the starting place for a political life beyond vengeance, embodied in the life of the church. We thought that hearing from conflict survivors by inviting them to discuss a biblical parable about forgiveness would prove more fruitful than asking them direct questions in an interview. While we found published work that interviewed Colombians about forgiveness, we found no such work that uncovered conflict survivors’ perspectives on forgiveness by inviting them to interpret and respond to a narrative. Other researchers have also interviewed Colombians about forgiveness, but they asked their participants to respond to cases where victimisers requested forgiveness (López-López et al.
In the following, we will explore forgiveness and politics by (1) describing our method,
To understand forgiveness among survivors of armed conflict
Inspiration for our approach came from the practice of reading the Bible among base ecclesial communities in Latin America as Carlos Mesters and Pablo Richard describe it. The
We opted to use
The team chose to apply
We began each of our readings by inviting the conflict survivor participants to read the parable aloud, asking four different participants to adopt the roles of the narrator, the king, the servant and the companion. Then, we encouraged participants to give their own interpretation of the passage, placing themselves within the story, and mapping the story onto their communities. Sample questions were offered to guide this process, including the following:
Which character do you identify with in the parable and why?
Can you identify someone in your community or neighbourhood who acts like the servant whose debt the king forgave? Someone like the companion? The king?
What political consequences would there be if this community follows the example of the king who forgave his servant?
What political consequences would there be if this community follows the example of the servant who did not forgive his companion, although the king had forgiven him?
Our use of
What emerged when we practiced
A first contrast between Colombian conflict survivors and North Atlantic academics has to do with the identity of the persons whom the parable exhorts the reader to forgive. Commentators unanimously read the text as an injunction to forgive other members of the community of disciples (see, e.g., Blomberg
Conflict survivors, however, consistently interpret the passage as requiring forgiveness of people outside of their religious communities. This forgiveness even includes members of armed groups who have committed acts of violence against these conflict survivors and their family members. Fernando Abilio Mosquera-Brand, for example, tells the story of hearing on the phone that his brother had been killed:
I fell to my knees and I said to the Lord, ‘Lord, I forgive my brother’s murderers. I ask that you forgive them and, Lord, do not permit them to grieve any other Colombian home again.’
Other examples include Sofía’s
Although these readings may not fit the immediate literary context of the parable, their approach coheres with teaching previously elaborated in Matthew. A close parallel to Matthew 18:35 arises in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6:14–15:
For if you forgive others [τοῖς ἀνθρώποις] their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you; but if you do not forgive others [τοῖς ἀνθρώποις], neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.
In Matthew 6, however, those to be forgiven are not only ‘brothers’ but also τοῖς ἀνθρώποις [human beings]. The discourse has already commended loving enemies, praying for persecutors and greeting not only one’s brothers and sisters (Mt 5:44–47). So, as conflict survivors read the parable as an exhortation to forgive even those outside their religious community, they read Matthew 18 in a way that coheres with the Sermon on the Mount.
When academic commentators describe the kinds of offenses that the parable says to forgive, they envision sins that differ dramatically from those that come to mind for survivors of the Colombian civil conflict. Commentators generally explain debt in the parable as an image of a personal offense to forgive (e.g. Blomberg
Commentators on Matthew do not read the parable as instructing hearers to forgive debts, nor do they relate it to other economic offenses. By illuminating contrast, conflict survivors frequently interpret the parable in an economic sense, as encouraging people to forgive financial debts. For example, Emmanuel
This dramatic disparity between conflict survivor and academic readings is made all the more intriguing by the fact that commentators spill no small amount of ink attempting to construct a historical account of the financial dynamics at play in the parabolic narrative (Bruner
In a similar manner, survivors of the Colombian conflict apply the parable to their own experiences as victims of violence, as in the case of Pedro
These readings connecting violence and forgiveness encourage scholars to attend to violence when they apply the parable. Commentators recognise the significance of violence in discovering the internal logic of the parable, identifying the injunction to forgive 77 times as an allusion to Lamech’s boast that he will avenge violence in Genesis 4:23–24. These scholars agree that the allusion contrasts the unlimited vengeance of Lamech with the unlimited forgiveness that should characterise the community of disciples (see Bonnard
In fact, neither New Testament commentators nor New Testament ethicists list violent offenses among the offenses the parable exhorts the reader to forgive (a literature survey turned up two brief and oblique references to violence, one in a Spanish commentary [Riera i Figueras
One reason for this blind spot may be that these scholars tend to downplay the gravity of the offenses that the parable urges hearers to forgive. They construe those offenses as trivial because the 100 denarii that the unforgiving debtor demands of his fellow servant pales by comparison to the 10 000 talents that he owes to his lord (Blomberg
Conflict survivors’ readings bring out another element ignored even by the few scholars who address this parable’s relationship with violence: the connection
Another account from a conflict survivor that links money, violence and forgiveness comes in the remarkable story of Sebastián (LPB, Puerto Libertador, 10 December 2016, G. Mejía-Castillo). Sebastián shares that he and his business partner Mateo bought four heifers, but then they discovered that those heifers had been stolen. Puerto Libertador, Sebastián says, is an area where this kind of thing is not forgiven. It turned out that Carlos, the young man who sold them the cows, had stolen them from Carlos’ own grandmother, but Carlos had already spent the money, and so returning the cows to Carlos’ grandmother would have amounted to a loss for Sebastián and Mateo. Carlos was brought to them, and Mateo ‘wanted immediate vengeance and justice’, in Sebastián’s words. Carlos was tied up to be killed, but Sebastián said that he did not agree with hurting him, that he forgave the young man and that he was ready to lose the money. Mateo, who was not a Christian, said, ‘Man, if you do it, then I’ll do it too.’ They returned the animals, and the two partners accepted the monetary loss without retaliating, even though they lived in a place where a group was ready to settle these kinds of disputes. Sebastián says that God has blessed him, and Carlos is still alive 3 years later. But there is a twist: Sebastián and Mateo told Carlos that if he wanted to live, he had to behave differently and leave the area.
Sebastián’s story represents a robust sort of forgiveness. He and Mateo agree to set the wrong aside rather than meting out an extrajudicial killing. Still, in setting that wrong aside, there are consequences, and Sebastián and Mateo banish the thief, Carlos, from the area. When Sebastian proposes to forgive Carlos, his forgiveness is infectious, revealing the ‘domino effect’ that Mariana in Granada
These same dynamics of money, violence and forgiveness are present in the parable, as New Testament scholars sometimes note in their historical explanations of the text, although they never bridge the gap to the moral application of the parable. In the story, the unforgiving debtor seizes his fellow servant by the neck when demanding repayment of the 100 denarii debt (Mt 18:28).
Having laid out these points of discontinuity between conflict survivors’ readings and academic commentators’ interpretations of Matthew 18:21–35, we wish to discuss the robust vision of forgiveness as a political phenomenon that conflict survivors offer. For most North Atlantic commentators, this is a parable that exhorts members of Christian communities to forgive one another for personal offenses, usually trivial ones. For conflict survivors, however, this is a parable that teaches forgiveness of people outside the church, even one’s own enemies, for all manner of major economic offenses and even the most brutal acts of violence. Given their far more expansive interpretation of this text, conflict survivors used it as an occasion to sketch a dramatic socio-political vision. When the researchers asked about the political consequences for the community if the community imitates the unforgiving debtor or the king, those who experienced conflict in Colombia agreed: not only is forgiveness essential for a peaceful community; it is essential for the very possibility of community.
When asked what it would look like for a community if people act like the unforgiving debtor, Paula Andrea (LPB, Bogotá) explains that such greed and non-forgiveness would produce polarisation and breed violence:
‘Well, the rich would get richer and the poor would get poorer, speaking politically. In practice, politics is power, money … Few people think about the community. So it would be the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer and there would be violence in the lower-income communities … There would be violence, insecurity, and everything; everything derives from that (i.e. acting like the unforgiving debtor).’
Likewise, María Fernanda (LPB, Tierralta) says that by acting like the unforgiving debtor, Colombia will return to violence. When asked what will happen if Tierralta does not forgive the paramilitaries, guerrillas, criminal bands (
However, conflict survivors say that acting like the king and forgiving debts would bring sweeping change to their communities. On some accounts, this change starts with individual acts of forgiveness that have wide implications. Santiago
Others who endured conflict reveal the economic dimension of the parable when asked about the consequences for their communities of acting like the unforgiving debtor. Says Alexander (LPB, Tierralta):
‘A town … will not prosper because hate and rancour bring with them envy and other negative attitudes which will cause the town’s progress and prosperity to stagnate. Our town will always be in ruins. It will not be a town that attracts enterprise, industry, or markets to the town because we will have an attitude of vengeance. … It would be a town that stagnates economically, and there would be no progress.’
On the other hand, Laura Sofía (LPB, Bogotá) says that forgiving like the king will bring greater economic equality, resulting in a decrease in violence:
‘If there were people who [
Representing a choice between conflict and peace, economic ruin and opportunity, acting like the unforgiving servant or like the king has wide implications for community cohesion, say, conflict survivors. Valentina (LPB, Puerto Libertador, 09 December 2016) says that if people in her community imitated the unforgiving servant, as her mother would say, ‘everything would turn into porridge’ (‘
In Cartagena, the choice for forgiveness or lack of forgiveness is a choice both ultimate and mundane. It is a choice between heaven and hell; if we were ‘like the king, look, [we would be] happy, we would be in glory’, says Valeria (LPB, Cartagena). On another level, it is about whether local people will cooperate as activists and give out of their own pocketbook to seek the good of the neighbourhood, says Juliana (LPB, Cartagena). Andrés (LPB, Cartagena) contrasts a place where one neighbour confronts another with a handgun with a place where people forgive like the king and pick up a neighbour’s trash, where one neighbour helps another repair a wall:
‘When a neighbour gets furious over any little thing and comes at you with a machete, with a revolver, with whatever, then forgiveness is far off, it’s far off. If we were to forgive everyone’s mistakes, if even on your street, everyone forgave, then everyone would live in harmony and everyone would live in peace. Then, if a neighbour needed to fix up a wall, “Neighbour, here we are; let’s do it”. Nobody would stop this street, this
The conflict survivors who held this expansive vision of the political consequences of forgiveness were also asked whether they knew people in their communities who forgive magnanimously like the king. In many of the groups, members identified people in their communities who resemble the forgiving king as well as others who resemble the servant. We were intrigued to note that all respondents who were able to identify people who are like the king reside in smaller towns or rural areas (LPB, Batata; Granada; Puerto Libertador, 09 December 2016; Puerto Libertador, 10 December 2016, G. Mejía-Castillo; Puerto Libertador, 10 December 2016, M. Acosta-Benítez; Tierralta). In three groups made up primarily of IDPs in the large cities of Bogotá, Medellín and Cartagena, the participants said that they know someone around them who acts like the servant, a character who is forgiven but fails to forgive others, but they cannot name people in their communities who are like the king. It appears that conflict survivors in metropolitan areas have less acquaintance than those in towns and villages with people who forgive large debts or great wrongs.
Still, those who experienced the violence and displacement of conflict in Colombia share a common vision. To forgive or not to forgive is a choice between picking up trash or not, between living in safety or stepping over dead bodies, between children forming new armed groups or children working in new businesses. To forgive or not to forgive is a choice between peace and war, between community and lack of community, between letting live and killing, between life in glory and life in hell.
In highlighting the voices of conflict survivors who commend forgiveness as the way to peace, economic well-being and community, we do not want to overlook the pitfalls of extolling forgiveness. In separate articles, Ramshaw, Illian and Machingura strenuously object to interpreting Matthew 18:21–35 in a way that does not require that earnest repentance precedes the extension of forgiveness. While each of these scholars gives exegetical arguments for this reading, they are also motivated by ethical concerns relating to violence: domestic violence in the case of Ramshaw (
In highlighting the voices of conflict survivors, the authors do not wish to ignore the victimisers’ responsibility for repentance and restoration. To minimise this responsibility would direct forgiveness towards deepening social injustice, a concern that Ramshaw, Illian and Machingura are right to raise. Nor should anything said here be taken as naively orchestrating or manipulating the liberating instrument that forgiveness represents to perpetuate or validate the victimisers’ abuses. The forgiveness that this
Still, the voices of those survivors need to be taken seriously when they argue for the necessity of forgiveness. They argue this for three reasons: firstly, because their sins have been forgiven by Jesus’ death on the cross (LPB, Medellín; Piendamó); secondly, because failure to forgive will damage them spiritually (LPB, Batata, 22 January 2017; Cartagena) or socially (LPB, Cartagena; Tierralta); and thirdly, because such forgiveness is vital for their own emotional and spiritual flourishing (LPB, Batata, 21 January 2017; Medellín; Piendamó). Although caution is crucial, such caution should not be used to turn away victims from the liberating, healing power of forgiveness in the contagious and unconditional form that many of our conversation partners exhibited. One of these was Juan Esteban (LPB, Piendamó), the indigenous IDP, who said, ‘When we reached out our hands [
As an additional caveat, it is not the purpose of this discussion to fault the New Testament guild for interpreting this text in a manner that is relevant to their social and historical contexts. Rather, we wish to show how conflict survivors, because of their unique experiences, poverty and sufferings, are attentive to elements of the text that are overlooked by North Atlantic commentators and yet are more coherent with the moral vision of the First Gospel as a whole.
Reflecting on the strengths and limitations of this approach, using
We believe that
The interpretive advantages of Colombian conflict survivors prime them to generate new exegetical insights as well as an expansive sociopolitical vision based on Matthew 18:21–35, a passage that North Atlantic commentators tend to interpret as instructions merely about life within the community of the local church. At an exegetical level, conflict survivors draw out features of the Matthean text that are overlooked by North Atlantic biblical scholars. But at a political and theological level, the testimony of conflict survivors that emerges through
In order to ensure the safety and anonymity of participants in this research, all participant names have been replaced with pseudonyms. The research protocol was developed with the participation and consultation of national researchers and approved by the FUSBC Research Ethics Committee. Care was taken to ensure that the topics explored in the focus groups would not retraumatise participants, and in most instances, a trained psychological professional was available in the event that participants required attention following the experience. All participants gave their informed consent prior to participating in the study by completing written permission forms. Along with a written explanation of the research, in order to account for low levels of literacy, the researchers gave the participants an oral explanation of the nature and purposes of the study and the participants’ rights in relation to the study. Focus group interviews took place in safe locations where privacy was ensured. The researchers completed the ‘Protecting Human Research Participants’ certification of the US National Institutes of Health.
This project was made possible through the support of a grant from the Templeton World Charity Foundation (TWCF).
The authors thank Fernando Abilio Mosquera-Brand, Milton Alfonso Acosta-Benítez, Francis Alexis Pineda, and Laura Cadavid-Valencia, who along with G.M.C. and R.W.H. carried out the fieldwork. The authors also thank those who commented on early versions of this article at presentations in Berlin, Oxford, Boston, Medellín, and Bogotá, especially David López-Amaya.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of TWCF or the Fundación Universitaria Seminario Bíblico de Colombia (FUSBC).
R.W.H. conceived the research plan. R.W.H. and C.M.H. analysed the data, and R.W.H., C.M.H. and G.M.C. wrote the article. C.M.H. served as principal investigator for Fe y Desplazamiento (Faith and Displacement), a research project of the Fundación Universitaria Seminario Bíblico de Colombia (FUSBC) of which this publication forms a part.
As most but not all of our interlocutors experienced forced displacement within Colombia, the term ‘internally displaced persons’ did not embrace everyone we spoke with. In Colombia, both legislation and individuals who have experienced the harms of war tend to speak of
Blomberg (
See especially Matthew 18:20 (‘where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them’); also, in the context of the First Gospel, the term ‘brothers’ typically denotes either consanguinity or membership within the community of disciples (e.g. Mt 12:49–50, 23:8). See also
LPB, Santa Viviana, Bogotá, 03 December 2016. Participants: at least seven men and women. Researcher: Milton Acosta-Benítez.
LPB, El Libertador, Puerto Libertador, 10 December 2016. Participants: six women and four men. Researcher: Guillermo Mejía-Castillo.
LPB, Torre Fuerte, Puerto Libertador, 09 December 2016. Participants: five women and three men. Researcher: Guillermo Mejía-Castillo.
LPB, Colegio El Salvador, Cartagena, 26 January 2017. Participants: eight women and three men. Researcher: Guillermo Mejía-Castillo.
LPB, Villa Mercedes, Grandeza de Dios, Piendamó, 14 January 2017. Participants: nine men. Researchers: Fernando Abilio Mosquera-Brand and Laura Cadavid-Valencia.
LPB, Batata, 22 January 2017. Participants: several men and women. Researcher: Francis Alexis Pineda. Samuel, LPB, Piendamó.
Without connecting the text to economic topics, two commentators draw links to the topic of justice (Schlatter
LPB, Batata, 21 January 2017. Participants: ten men and women. Researcher: Fernando Abilio Mosquera-Brand.
LPB, Salón del Nunca Más, Granada, 10 March 2017. Participants: several men and women. Researcher: Robert W. Heimburger.
For further detail, see Derrett (
LPB, El Libertador, Puerto Libertador, 10 December 2016. Participants: three women and two men. Researcher: Milton Acosta-Benítez.
LPB, Granizal, Medellín, 28 January 2017. Participants: four women. Researcher: Guillermo Mejía-Castillo.