If someone has been abused, can the victim just forgive the abuser?

 

If someone has been victimized or physically abused, then while the Lord may forgive the wrongdoer, how can the victim be expected to forgive? That’s why, in a future session, we may explore the interplay between the principles of forgiveness and justice. Both are important, and they often need to run parallel.

Spiritual traditions generally emphasize forgiveness — and rightly so. In our everyday lives, all of us can and should strive to be more forgiving. However, there are situations where the issue becomes extremely serious — it’s no longer just about forgiveness; it becomes a matter of justice.

For example, why didn’t Lord Ram just forgive Ravan and let him take Sita? He couldn’t do that because Sita was his wife, and he had a sacred duty to protect her. He fought not out of revenge, but to uphold justice. Similarly, sometimes forgiveness may be present internally, but externally, justice still needs to be pursued.

Now, abuse is a very broad term — without knowing exactly what happened, we can’t generalize. But if the abuse is severe, forgiveness becomes incredibly difficult. And it’s not just about the Lord’s forgiveness. Even if the Lord forgives, that doesn’t mean the victim must automatically forgive. In fact, if a severely abusive person is not held accountable, they might go on to harm others as well.

We are touching on a rather sensitive topic today. But this has real-world relevance. For instance, in the Catholic Church, many of you might know about the child abuse scandals. What outraged people wasn’t just the abuse — it was the large-scale cover-up. Why did this happen? Was it merely an attempt to protect the Church’s reputation? Some critics use this to claim that Christianity is flawed, but it’s not that simple.

There was an ethical dilemma involved. In Catholicism, there’s a practice called confession, where a person confesses their sins to a priest and is given penance and forgiveness. According to tradition, the priest is bound to confidentiality. But here’s the issue: what is a sin that can be forgiven by the Church, and what is a crime that must be prosecuted by the state?

Some priests who were abusers confessed, received counseling, and were then reinstated. Some were forgiven without even undergoing proper treatment. The broader question is: when is an act simply a sin requiring repentance, and when is it a crime needing legal action? Often, these categories overlap.

So when it comes to abuse, it’s not merely about forgiveness. It may very well be a crime that must be prosecuted. Now, if we are the victims, do we even have the power to pursue justice? If not, the best we can often do is to distance ourselves — from the abuser and even from anyone closely connected to them — and focus on creating a safe space for our own healing and growth.

In such cases, forgiveness is very difficult. We often hear the phrase “forgive and forget,” but forgetting is not easy. Our brain doesn’t have a “delete” button. That phrase is not meant to imply literal forgetting, but rather not endlessly replaying the memory and tormenting ourselves with it.

Sometimes, forgiveness is not about forgetting, but about remembering in a new way. For example, think of a physical wound. When it’s raw, even the lightest touch causes pain. But once it heals, even if a scar remains, touching it doesn’t hurt. Similarly, emotionally, even if a painful memory stays, healing means that it no longer causes intense suffering.

We may never forget certain traumatic incidents — nor should we, because painful experiences often teach valuable life lessons. But forgiving can mean remembering in a healthier way — like a healed scar that no longer causes pain.

Often, we may never be able to directly forgive the person who hurt us. But what we can do is to unburden our hearts by speaking to someone trustworthy and mature. This can help us let go of the inner resentment — the emotional “pus” — so the wound can begin to heal.

In that sense, forgiveness is not just a gift we give to the offender — it’s a gift we give to ourselves.

I’ve spoken extensively about this in a seminar on my website thespiritualscientist.com, where I explain that forgiveness happens at three levels: intention, emotion, and action.

• Emotionally, we often hear stories of people saying, “I feel so much lighter after forgiving.” That’s wonderful, but it doesn’t happen instantly or easily.
• Intentionally, we can start by choosing not to dwell on the hurt again and again. When the memory surfaces, instead of replaying it, we can choose to shift our focus. This doesn’t mean the memory vanishes, but we don’t nourish the resentment. It’s a conscious decision: “I won’t waste more of my life thinking about getting back at this person.”
• In action, forgiveness can look different for everyone. We might:
  • Simply walk away and cut ties.
  • Choose to pursue justice as part of our life’s mission.
  • In rare cases, even face the person and forgive them directly — but this isn’t always safe or necessary.

What we do externally depends on many factors, and each choice has its consequences. What’s important is that we act from a place of wisdom, not vengeance.

Ultimately, even if we are scarred, we don’t have to keep scratching that scar. Just as we avoid aggravating a physical wound, we must be careful not to mentally re-open old hurts by endlessly replaying them.

So yes, forgiveness is a complex journey — but it’s a path to healing and inner peace.