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.