In the Summer of 1970, a bunch of us went to a Christian Summer camp in upstate NY. We took a bunch of trugs with us, and we were actually tripping and laughing hysterically during the spiritual sessions. One day toward the end of our trip the staff called us into the office and started question us about drugs. We all played innocent and denied using drugs. Then the one guy started listing the drugs and when he got to LSD, I said “wait a second isn’t that going a little too far? And he said I don’t think so and pulled out a bunch of drugs. Needless to say, our jaws dropped. They had found our stash. All the conversation after that went unheard. I had a vision of a cop car siren that would be coming closer and closer, getting cuffed and brought to the station. Then, a voice that might as well have been from heaven as far as we were concerned, “we’re not going to tell your parents.” If there were a greater shock after the initial one of being caught, this was it. Wait. You not calling the cops or telling our parents? How could it be? At first, I could not believe it. Then after more discussion they said we were required to go to the youth group at the Lutheran Church on 83rd Sy in Brooklyn. It’s hard to understand the depth of forgiveness in a situation like that unless you experience it. My life as I knew it was going to be over, and then it wasn’t…poof…magic…my problem disappears in flash. Everything went back to normal. I went to Youth Group for a few months but eventually stopped going. The Pastor at the Brooklyn church never held it over our heads or demanded we come to youth group.
Although I could not fully comprehend it at the time, this was grace, the forgiveness of God who takes away the sins of the world:
A thrill of hope
A weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morning
When I hear that hymn, something unexplainable rises up in my soul. Impossible to share but undeniably real to me. It was risky for all of them, the staff at camp and the pastor. We broke the law, and they hid it from the police and our parents. They saw a higher law. They were responsible to God. To this day I long to understand that kind of forgiveness. How do I forgive in response to their example? Is there a limit to it? Doesn’t constant forgiveness lead to enabling and in the long run, detrimental? I don’t know the answer.