Sometimes its really hard to let go, isn’t it?
Almost twenty years ago, I was a young, budding filmmaker in Hollywood. I had spent almost four years in Hollywood working on commercials, getting my feet wet. But then I made the decision to go back and finish school. Upon return, I was the highest level senior in my film program at Biola and was the likely candidate to lead the school funded film project. Little did I know it would lead me to wrestle with true justice in the most unlikely of places.
It turned out that our film program had been tapped to film the life story of Charles “Tex” Watson, the one who did most of the murders for Charles Manson. His life story was deeply compelling and gave me personal insight into the life of a brutal mass murderer. Watson became a Christian in prison and was visited by Rosemary LaBianca’s daughter in prison. She became convinced that his redemption was true. The final film made it straight to inglorious video.
But the experience honestly changed me. It allowed me to really wrestle with a human being who had committed horrific brutality. I was tasked with writing the script and as I processed the story, it was interesting following Watson’s journey from high school star athlete to follower of Charles Manson. The horror of that night was not a one night event but a long succession of events leading up to night the Manson family murdered seven people. I don’t believe in brain-washing but I do believe in the power of a lie to captivate someone. Watson was responsible for what he did, and took responsibility for it.
But it was obvious that every person involved was deeply broken and searching for something long before that night. Most people don’t know that one of Manson’s prime motives was revenge/anger for being shut out of his dream for being a recording star. His music was horrible. His act on the Tate/LaBianca family went on to become one of the defining events of his generation and the sixties.
But as I watch Susan Atkins wrestle with parole, and those who are adamant against it, I can’t help but wonder if true justice is not watching our perpetrators suffer under our own hands, but the ability to forgive in the face of the worst, most unspeakable crimes. Almost forty years later, the family’s are still holding on. My hope is that one day they will be able to let go for their own sake. (Watson, is eligible for parole in Nov 2009.)
And I completely understand the desire NOT to let go. Hatred works for a while. It feeds our aching heart with such venom of distraction from the very real pain that we’ve felt. It makes us feel so good. We feel better than THAT person because we would never do what they did.
But hate is also insatiable. It consumes us to the point that we often the ability to empathize anymore. We fail to see the humanity in others in a way that allows us to remain human. And I would suggest that it is that moment injustice has won. It has robbed us of that which reflects the image of God: mercy.
I often wonder if this is the reason Jesus allowed himself to be so incredibly brutalized in his death. We needed to know the extent that forgiveness would go. We needed to know that God wasn’t playing around. If someone had just put a bullet in him, the cross would not have had the same impact. Golgotha was humanity doing its worst, so we could see God at his best.
True justice is always found in the sentence we would want on ourselves.
