The Salem Witch Trials & Forgiveness

             As the congregation sang a Psalm, Rev. Samuel Willard made his way down the aisle of Old South Church in Boston. This Sunday was different than most, having been set aside for prayer and fasting. But the service would take a dramatic turn as the Reverend walked past pew number one—where the most prestigious citizens usually sat.

            Judge Samuel Sewall handed a note to his pastor.

            Rev. Willard hesitated, took the note, walked to the front, and continued the service. Later, though, he unfolded the paper in his hand and looked down at the Judge.

            Judge Sewall stood to his feet with his head hung low as he heard his penned words read aloud from his pastor who came down from the pulpit and stood in front of this prominent man.

            Who was this judge?

            Five years earlier he’d been one of nine specially-appointed judges who presided over the Salem Witch Trials—an awful blight on our nation’s history—a time when Christian believers in God were falsely accused of being witches—some say more than 200. Judge Sewall, along with his peers, declared a guilty verdict on twenty who were sentenced to death—nineteen being hung and one crushed.

 

            For the next five years, Judge Sewall lived with guilt, realizing he violated not only the laws of England but more importantly, God. In his diary he recorded his thoughts—the depth of his guilt and wondering if the death of some of his children was divine retribution. (Eleven of fourteen died before adulthood.)

            Then Sewall told of his son reading this Bible verse: “If ye had known what this meaneth, I will have mercy and not sacrifice, ye would not have condemned the guiltless.” (Matthew 12:7)

            The Judge wrote in his diary that this convicted him with certainty that he was guilty of twenty innocent lives. Thus, he penned the letter he handed to Rev. Willard that Sunday—one of deep remorse, confessing he’d erred in sentencing the innocent citizens, begging forgiveness for his part in their condemnation and deaths.

            The congregation was deadly silent as Rev. Willard read the Judge’s note aloud.

 

            I wonder what went through Rev. Willard’s thoughts as he read Sewall’s letter to the congregation. Did his mind instantly flashback, knowing full-well one of the doomed was his own kin? Had he held contempt for the Judge those five years and cringed when he walked past that pew every Sunday? Did he ever eye the Judge from the raised pulpit with thoughts of condemnation? Or was his heart like Jesus’—quietly whispering forgive Him, Lord. He knoweth not what he did.

            I’m not certain, but I’ve surmised by the fact the Reverend met the Judge on equal footing and read the note standing before him, face to face, he made peace. He then addressed the congregation: “He (the Judge) desires to take the blame and shame of it … desiring prayers that God … would pardon that sin …” ¹

 

            I’m awed and personally humbled by the Reverend’s words. It does seem he accepted Judge Sewall’s remorse and apology sincerely.

            I’m also ashamed to admit I likely wouldn’t have done the same thing. How do I know that? Because I’ve nursed hatred and unforgiveness to people who took part in declaring our unfounded guilt decades ago, harming one of our children, and nearly destroying our family.

            You, Sarah? I didn’t think you had a vindictive bone in your body—you might think.

            Yes, me. I’ve found forgiving those who harm me easier than those who hurt my husband or children. Touch them, and I’d go ballistic!

            Then I learned this story about my ancestor, Samuel Willard, and I was bowed low—like the other gentleman, Samuel Sewall. If Rev. Willard could forgive “that man,” could I follow his example?

            Sometimes I feel like I’ll never really 100% forgive those who inflicted un-doable hurt and harm, although I am closer and no longer hold thoughts of harming them myself. (I know. This doesn’t sound like a believer in Jesus. Does it?)

            Yet, I carry Willard-DNA within. Rev. Samuel Willard is one of my 8th great-grandfathers. That humbles me, making me plea to God to help me move past it all, like my ancestor did.

            But fully forgive? When no apology comes? No remorse? Impossible!

            But with God all things are possible. (Matthew 19:26) So by His Own Word, the Bible, I claim my “inability” void. I can forgive. I must.

            Also, what am I to do about Jesus Who lives within me—differently than my Willard-DNA but is present in my life. Shall I recklessly toss aside His Words on the cross? “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)

            Jesus! My supreme example!

            This drives me to my knees at the foot of the cross where the One Who was guiltless died. Where his final Words bore no condemnation. Only forgiveness, overcoming the impossible.

 

            Judge Sewall changed over those years of conviction after the death of the twenty. But he never totally forgave himself. Instead, he “wore” his sorrow, paying for the rest of his days by wearing a goat’s hair shirt under his clothing—an irritating “garment” meant to never let him forget what he had done, through his verdict, taking lives. None of the other eight judges, complicit in the faulty verdict of the twenty at the Salem Witch Trials, ever publicly confessed their guilt.

 

            In the Massachusetts State House chamber in Boston are five murals, each depicting a significant event in our nation’s history. It so happens that one of the paintings ² shows Rev. Samuel Willard, reading the Judge’s letter of repentance.

            May the message of that painting sink into the depths of my soul. If this 8th great-grandfather of mine could forgive Judge Samuel Sewall, can I forgive the worst people have done to us?

            If Jesus could hang on a cross and cry out, “Father, forgive them,” will I also do so? Can you, who’ve endured unfathomable hurt at the hands of another, forgive? It’s possible!

 

Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way! Thou art the potter, I am the clay.

Mold me and make me after thy will, while I am waiting, yielded and still.

 

Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way! Search me and try me, Savior today!

Wash me just now, Lord, wash me just now, as in thy presence humbly I bow.

 

Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way! Wounded and weary, help me I pray!

Power, all power, surely is thine! Touch me and heal me, Savior divine!

 

Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way! Hold o’er my being absolute sway.

Fill with thy Spirit till all shall see Christ only, always, living in me!

 

                                          (from the hymn, Have Thine Own Way, by Adelaide A. Pollard, 1906, public domain)

 

 *SalemWitchTrials *SamuelWillard *SamuelSewall *OldSouthChurch *MassachusettsStateHouseBoston *forgiveness *DNA

 

¹ LaPlante, Eve—Salem Witch Judge: The Life and Repentance of Samuel Sewall

 

² Herter, Albert—Dawn of Tolerance in Massachusetts—Public Repentance of Judge

  Samuel Sewall for His Actions in the Witchcraft Trials, malegislature.gov, 1942.

Watch Israel!

             The nation of Israel has just gone through a week+ of bloodshed and horror to the nth degree. It all began on Shabbat, the Jewish people’s holy day and at the time of year when many of their religious holidays fall. Evil knew the Jews would not be on their guard that morning.

            I’ve been deeply distressed this week with comments coming out of some who imply Israel deserves this. “After all, they killed Jesus!”

            No one deserves what happened. Innocence doesn’t deserve being beheaded in their cribs, being killed/raped/kidnapped from a youth concert, growing up parentless because parents loved them enough to lock them in safe rooms before being slaughtered themselves. The list of atrocities goes on.

            And on.

            Now attacks come from the north as well.

            Yes, we who know what the Bible says know God’s warned that until the end of time the Jewish people will suffer at the hands of her enemy. It’s a harsh realization. One we want to wish away. Yet what God says stands. Not because His Heart desires it, but because it’s a truth set into motion the moment Abraham impregnated Hagar, then Ishmael was born. Enmity between half-brothers on opposite ends of the spiritual spectrum.

            Last Friday the Muslim world proclaimed a day of worldwide jihad against infidels—Jews, believers in Jesus, anyone who does not bow to Allah.

            I’m no expert on end times or the Book of Revelation, but I can tell you, if you want to know where we are in the long range of things, keep your eyes on Israel! It’s key to grasping where we are on earth’s timeline and understanding what’s happening and going to happen in our very broken world.

            So, watch Israel! Read God’s Word!

            And fall on your knees!             

            The Jews are a resilient people. They will rise out of the ashes. They always do. It’s in their resolve (and in their national anthem too).

 

ISRAEL'S National Anthem - HATIKVAH with English and Hebrew lyrics ( Longer version ) - YouTube

—“Our hope is not yet lost.”—

 

            But let’s pray for these beloved of God—that even through these atrocities they will cling to the One Who is watching over them—Who never slumbers nor sleeps. Who roars at the enemy. Who weeps at the lives lost. Who is their Hope.

            Hope is never lost because true Hope is in the Lord God Messiah—Savior of all who will accept His Gift of salvation. This is for the Jews and non-Jews alike.

            So, watch Israel, hope in the God of Zion, and even pray for an enemy so cruel it seeks to devour a whole people. Read God’s Word, weep for the lost, and know that Hope is eternal. 

 

—Because He Lives in English and Hebrew—

BECAUSE HE LIVES (Hebrew and English!) LIVE at the Garden Tomb, Jerusalem Easter - YouTube

#Israel #innocentbloodshed #hope #Revelation #endtimes #Hatikvah #BecauseHeLives

Photo credit: Carolyn Burns

The Day "Paper" Met Wood

              Son, Nathan, graced us with a visit to help with jobs about the house we’d been unable to do. While we worked out back, we sent Min to the shed to get supplies for the next job.

            Moments later he ran out of the shed bent over, holding his face and rocking his whole body!

            “What’s wrong?” I yelled, getting up as fast as I could and heading in his direction.

            Nathan beat me to it, put an arm around Min, and helped lift his “little” brother’s head.

            Min still wasn’t speaking but wasn’t quite crying either, although he appeared in terrific pain in or around his eye. Nathan walked him to us, and I brought Min into the house to get an icepack.

            Min’s lip quivered as he applied the icepack to his injury. “I got stung in my eyeball!”

            I lifted the icepack to examine his eye and surmised a wasp stung Min’s eyelid, which must have impulsively blinked to protect him.

            “It was one of those big red paper wasps that we sprayed,” Min said, “but they didn’t all go away, and they are nasty and charge at us, and it aimed for my eyeball because they like black targets! I want to cry.”

            “Go ahead,” I said reapplying the icepack. “Pain like this certainly would make anyone cry.”

            Min let loose his tears.

            I knew an aspirin poultice would help but was leery of putting one that close to his eye. So, we exchanged the icepack for a bag of tiny veggies which would conform well around Min’s eye socket.

            He hates icepacks or frozen veggies on anything for any reason, but I told him taking it off wasn’t an option until I yelled “TIME!”

            Min headed to his room grumbling about keeping frozen veggies on his eyelid.

            I then looked out the window and saw Nathan winging a wooden 2x4 about the entrance of the shed.

            Brian had come in the house and joined me by the window. “What’s he up to?”

            “Craziness, I guess.” I shook my head. “What’s he hope to accomplish with a 2x4?”

            But Nathan, an Army Veteran and Bronze Star recipient, was at war with that red paper wasp! He swung that 2x4 and pounded the end against the shed floor, putting that squashed wasp out of commission forever!

            What first appeared to us parents as an insane act suddenly changed in our thinking to an example of brotherly love—something Nathan doesn’t express gently. He’s SO NOT LIKE THAT. He’s more the “take it like a man” type! But here he was making sure the red menace who wounded his little bro never did so again.

            Min survived this aerial attack with a badly swollen, reddened eyelid. He’s been quite the trooper actually. And we shared with him how Nathan went full-throttle when he saw that his little bro had been injured.

            After that, Nathan visited with Min in his room. Brother time.

            Although a wasp attack isn’t all out life-threatening combat, had it been, I think Nathan would’ve done whatever it took to make sure his little bro was taken care of.

            Min said afterward, “I’m glad Nathan’s my brother-in-law.”

            “Not in-law. Brother,” I corrected.

            “Even though I’m adopted and we’re not blood?”

            “Right,” I said. “I don’t think it even occurred to him how silly he looked swinging a 2x4 at a wasp. He was just mad you were hurt because he loves you.”

           When Nathan had to leave for home, Min came and hugged him. Really hugged! Min’s SO NOT LIKE THAT.

            Something changed this visit.

            A ‘swollen eye was open,” so to speak, and Min looks at his brother a bit differently now. Or his brother-in-law—or whoever he is!

            I’m reminded of Jesus Who comes to our defense when we hurt, even though we walk into enemy territory, and when we’ve been stung by sin. He’s SO LIKE THAT!

            How thankful I am for the Savior’s example—our “… Friend Who sticks closer than a brother.” Proverbs 18:24b (NKJV)

 

There’s not a friend like the lowly Jesus~No, not one! No, Not one!

None else could heal all our soul’s diseases~No, not one! No, not one!

(REFRAIN) Jesus knows all about our struggles, He will guide till the day is done;

There’s not a friend like the lowly Jesus~No, not one! No, not one!

 

No friend like Him is so high and holy~No, not one! No, not one!

And yet no friend is so meek and lowly~No, not one! No, not one!

(REFRAIN)

 

There’s not an hour that He is not near us~No, not one! No, not one!

No night so dark but His love can cheer us~No, not one! No, not one!

(REFRAIN)

 

Was e’er a gift like the Savior given? No, not one! No, not one!

Will he refuse us a home in heaven? No, not one! No, not one!

(REFRAIN) Jesus knows all about our struggle, He will guide till the day is done;

There’s not a friend like the lowly Jesus~No, not one! No, not one!

 

(from the hymn “No, Not One,” lyrics by Johnson Oatman, 1895, public domain)

#redpaperwasp #sting #brotherlylove #Jesus #adoption #2x4

 

*Photo credit: Robert & Barbara Kipfer (used with permission)