How a Friend Taught Me the Theology of Forgiveness| National Catholic Register

When I struggled to forgive, God whispered one word into my heart. It was the name of a friend who had lived out radical mercy.

Last week, I was struggling mightily with forgiving others.

On Friday morning, I posted something online regarding the unfair characterization of immigrants. I’m not going to quote it; this is not the proper avenue to rehash that discussion. When I posted it, I thought it was relatively innocuous. But it drew significant criticism, and I was hurt by some of these remarks. (I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right: If you post anything on Facebook, you should be emotionally prepared for pushback.)

My hurt was accentuated by the fact that several family members were physically suffering. Without going into much detail, suffice it to say that two days before my post, my daughter had an appointment with a pediatric cardiologist. On the day of my post, my wife had an appointment for an MRI due to a car accident that she has been suffering from since early December. Thus, the comments struck me a little more deeply. And I had a tough time forgiving those who had made these negative posts.

The next morning, I woke up with that same unforgiveness gnawing away at me; a bad night’s sleep hadn’t cured it. But just a few minutes later, before I even had a chance to sip my morning coffee, I received a spark of grace. God put one word — one name — in my mind and heart that melted away my unforgiveness. The word: Echaniz.

Let me explain.

John Echaniz and I met each other at Christendom College in 1989, and have been good friends ever since. It is said that “A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.” John is one of those friends. As anyone who knows me well can testify, I am legendary — and not in a good way — for my rants. Whether the topic is sports or politics, John listens patiently to my rants, and then adds a dose of much-needed reason and charity.

One morning about three years ago, I was texting John back and forth, but his texts stopped somewhat abruptly. I didn’t think much about it — that’s the nature of texting. Sometimes you need to field a call or rush to a meeting, and you don’t have time to close with, “Okay. Let’s talk again soon.”

But a few hours later, I discovered why his texts stopped. John’s son Michael had been shot at point-blank range that morning in Texas, and John had been on the phone frantically and prayerfully trying to get answers from Virginia. After what have must seemed like an eternity of waiting, John finally received the horrifying and tragic news: his son had been murdered.

This began John’s journey of discovering what it meant — what it truly and deeply meant — to forgive his son’s murderer. In the course of these events, John developed a theology of forgiveness. In a world that often seeks vengeance, John stood in open court at the criminal sentencing and forgave his son’s murderer. But more than that, John expressed his heartfelt desire that his son Michael and his murderer would one day be in Heaven together.

Unbeknownst to John, his speech at the sentencing was taped, and it quickly went viral. I have no doubt that it softened and touched many hearts — and one of them was my own. Since his speech, John’s story of forgiveness has helped me immensely in my own spiritual life.

Thus on Saturday morning, as I was having a difficult time forgiving some friends and associates, God whispered a great word that brought me to forgiveness: Echaniz. I thought: If John Echaniz can forgive something so indescribably evil, then who am I not to forgive such microscopic things? I had forgotten the words of forgiveness, but John’s witness sang them back to me once again.

I called John later that morning to tell him of my experience. My message was simple: Please keep telling your story!

A few weeks ago, John recounted his journey of forgiveness at an event at Christendom College. I have included a link to that speech here. Please watch and listen. It might just change your life.

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