Until I Danced With Murderers

He made a joke about the genocide. He didn't mean anything by it, he was just trying to be funny, but still, it cut through me like a knife. I was sharing about my trip with someone at my internship. He didn't mean any disrespect, he just wasn't too familiar with the genocide in Rwanda-and I shy away from sharing too many of the details unless I'm asked more questions.

The Hutus attempted to wipe out the entire Tutsi population and in 100 days in 1994 they killed 1.1 million people.

That's the short of it, anyway. When you go more in depth, however, you learn the brutality of the killing and that 1.1 million was the number killed, but the effects go so much deeper and millions of others are living with physical or emotional scars from having been victims or perpetrators of the genocide.

But thankfully that's not where the story ends. Thankfully the country has learned to both accept and give forgiveness that can only come from God. I don't say that lightly. As a human being I am aware of how hard it is to forgive someone for a small infraction, and can barely comprehend what it would take for me to extend forgiveness for rape, murder, or destroying my home or livelihood. And yet these people have learned to do this, and to rely on the grace that only God gives, and then rebuild. There is beauty springing up from these ashes.

The last two weeks at church since I've been back I've sat next to people who haven't sung during worship. Don't get me wrong, I love my church, and there could have been a thousand reasons why those people weren't singing, but when you've been in a place where the entire church sings and celebrates when a coffee pot is donated or you've danced to songs of God's grace among people who have killed others and those who have lost family members, homes, and had been attacked themselves, you gain a new perspective. There was a small part of me that wanted to shake the people next to me and  ask them why they would not want to sing aloud to the God who gives immeasurable forgiveness and makes beauty from destruction. But they haven't seen what I've seen.

I suppose I have a new perspective after coming back. I believe there is an incredible strength found in the hearts of those in Rwanda and I applaud their efforts in creating and continuing to improve the country that they have now. Even more so, though, I stand in awe of a God who can reconcile and redeem.

I have to remember, though, that the people that I rub shoulders with daily have not had the same experiences and that my perspective did not change until I danced with murderers.