Bring Our Wounds To His
As she ended her message at a Munich church in 1947, Corrie Ten Boom noticed a balding man in a gray overcoat approaching her.
She froze.
She knew this man well; he’d been one of the most brutal guards at Ravensbrück, one who had mocked the women prisoners as they showered.
“It came back with a rush,” she wrote, “the huge room with its harsh overhead lights; the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor; the shame of walking naked past this man.”
And now he was pushing his hand out to shake hers, and saying:
“A fine message, Fraulein! How good it is to know that, as you say, all our sins are at the bottom of the sea!”
“And I, who had spoken so glibly of forgiveness, fumbled in my pocketbook rather than take that hand. He would not remember me, of course — how could he remember one prisoner among those thousands of women?”
But I remembered him and the leather crop swinging from his belt. I was face to face with one of my captors, and my blood seemed to freeze.
“You mentioned Ravensbrück in your talk,” he was saying. “I was a guard there… But since that time,” he went on, “I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Fraulein” — again the hand came out — “will you forgive me?”
And I stood there — I whose sins had again and again to be forgiven — and could not forgive. Betsie [Corrie’s sister] had died in that place — could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the asking?
Waiting for Corrie to take his hand, the soldier stood there expectantly. She “wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do. For I had to do it — I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us.”
Standing there before the former S.S. guard, Corrie remembered that forgiveness is an act of the will — not an emotion. “Jesus, help me!” she prayed. “I can lift my hand. I can do that much. You supply the feeling.”
Corrie thrust out her hand.
“And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.”
“I forgive you, brother!” I cried. “With all my heart.”
“For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely as I did then. But even so, I realized it was not my love. I had tried and did not have the power. It was the power of the Holy Spirit.”
What did Corrie do that enabled her to lift her hand to greet and forgive her former S.S. torturer? As she remembered his brutality in the prison camp, she cried out to Jesus in prayer. She asked for His help, acknowledging that she needed His power to forgive. She looked to the cross and brought her wounds to His. And as she cried out to Him in her heart, He led her on the journey of forgiveness.
For Corrie, it was an almost instantaneous journey as she experienced the intense love of God as never before, forgiving the guard “with all her heart.” Jonah’s heart towards his enemies, the Ninevites, is a bit different than Corrie’s heart against the S.S. guard that day in Munich:
But Jonah was greatly displeased and became angry. He prayed to the LORD, "O LORD, is this not what I said when I was still at home? That is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, O LORD, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live." ~ Jonah 4:1-4.
Jonah was angry with God and wanted justice for the evil Ninevites. He ignored God’s instruction because he would rather die than preach to the Ninevites.
I can understand Jonah’s desire for honor, truth and justice. I’m sure we all can. While our stories may not be as atrocious as Corrie’s or involve the kind of evil Jonah faced with the Ninevites, we all have personal stories of hurt, brokenness, mistreatment, betrayal, and heartbreak that are attached to people we need to forgive. And it may feel impossible.
It is then we can look to the cross. Jesus was willing to suffer the greatest injustice of all. Purely righteous, holy and without fault, He was abused, rejected, tortured and killed all because He loves us. When we look to the cross, we learn to bring our wounds to His wounds. Not only does Jesus know the worst of what we’re going through, He has experienced it. And yet, as He hung on the cross, He asked the Father to forgive those who were responsible. Luke 23:24.
Who are our enemies – those who have hurt, wronged or betrayed us? And what are we going to do with them? Continue to carry the hurt? Continue to be burdened with resentment and anger? Will we ignore them? Or simply “cancel” them? Or, will we do the very thing that Jesus did for us while we were yet sinners? Will we love them? Will we forgive them?
Corrie Ten Boom admitted that love and forgiveness were never up to her; it was never in her own strength. For if it were up to her, she would hold grudges. She just had to be willing to let God work through her: “When Jesus says to love your enemies, He gives you His love to do so.”
May we do as Corrie did and cry out to God for help, rather than run from Him as Jonah did. Let’s ask Jesus to help us forgive. If we cry out to Him, He will lead us on this journey. And what an important journey it is – one that Jesus gave His life for. Indeed, the legacy of love, grace and forgiveness through Jesus is a message our broken and sinful world needs to hear and see. It’s a message we are called to live.
Excerpts are taken from 7 Women: And The Secret Of Their Greatness by Eric Metaxas, copyright Thomas Nelson and Corrie ten Boom, with Jamie Buckingham, Tramp for the Lord. (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1975).
~ Nicole Bryan has been a member of LIFE Fellowship for over 10 years and will graduate from Dallas Theological Seminary in May with a M.A. in Biblical Studies. She and her husband Callan have three children.