I just got to let it go
“I just got to let it go.” It was a phrase a man kept repeating as he walked forward during a forgiveness service. The look in his eyes told me that it was important to him. It somehow struck him as amazing. In this one event he realized why he was at this Kairos weekend. I was not sure what part amazed him, but as a pastor I assured him; “yes, you do need to let it go.” Each time he said the phrase the meaning seemed to change. It moved from being a question “I just got to let it go?” to a realization, “I just got to let it go.” to finally a statement “I just got to let it go!” Then the last time he said it looked as though a realization hit him. It was beyond his own power to forgive. To which I assured him, “Give it to God”.
The next morning Stephen said he really needed to talk with me. He had not slept all night, and I knew he really needed to talk. As we talked, he spoke of the wrong that had happened. A year before, his cell mate had attacked him in the middle of the night. Shortly after the incident, his cellmate had been moved to another part of the prison. Stephen said “I am a patient man, and I was waiting for my opportunity for some payback.” So for the past year Stephen had been working out, getting into shape and biding his time for revenge. Then the week before the Kairos weekend Stephen’s old cellmate was transferred right into the same tier as Stephen. The problem was that if Stephen got his revenge—right now—then he would not be able to attend Kairos and eat the great food we were offering, so he put it off and figured that on Monday his time would come.
As we talked, Stephen realized that he had placed a great deal of importance on gaining revenge. He had become defined by his desire for revenge. His life had become consumed by revenge. Stephen seemed stunned that God knew him so well. He was amazed that he had been placed at this moment at this place to learn about forgiveness. We spoke for quite some time when Stephen made a confession. Following the forgiveness service we had given the men an extra dozen cookies to give as a peace offering to anyone they desired. Steven did not have the courage to give this man his cookies. He considered sending the cookies through a friend, but he realized that would not be sufficient.
Stephen looked me in the eyes and said, “I must be the one to deliver the cookies and tell him that I forgive him.” I said, “You know that I can not tell you what you must do.” Yet I wanted to say “YES!” I could tell by the look in his eyes that he somehow knew that his road to freedom lay upon this path. His freedom from hate, and bitterness, and his freedom from his old life—it all was down this road. He knew the risk of following God. It was a path he had never chosen to walk, until now. Paul wrote in Philippians 3:7-8 “ But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ.”
Stephen’s entire way of living was being challenged by God. His view of the world was being transformed. God was asking Stephen to let go of the most precious thing in his life. Revenge had become his reason for living. But now God’s love had replaced that reason and filled him with a more powerful passion. What is amazing is that what God asked for Stephen to give up was poison. Yet in the forgiveness of his cellmate Stephen provides a witness to the world of Christ’s redeeming love.
Rev. Patrick Evans
