Today is Remembrance Sunday, and next Sunday is the beginning of Restorative Justice Week in Canada, an annual observance sponsored by Correctional Service Canada in what must surely be one of their more creative endeavours! The theme of my reflection this morning brings together these two observances - appropriately, I think, because they're both concerned with the issue of how to remember the pains of the past without being bound by them - how to bring about a restoration of peace and justice even from the ruins of war and crime and violence.

Restorative Justice Week, beginning on November 17th, has its roots in prison chaplaincies and began in England as "Prisoner's Sunday" in 1975, a day of compassion for those who are incarcerated. In 1995, Restorative Justice Week became a national event in Canada by decision of the Interfaith Committee on Chaplaincy within the Correctional Service of Canada. The scope of the week has broadened to encompass all who are affected by crime -- victims and their families, offenders and their families, criminal justice officials and the entire community. I don't think this is far removed from the way in which Remembrance Day has broadened in its scope, from its earliest observance as Armistice Day after the first World War, to the present time when we remember victims of war and violence between nations and sects all over the world. I was interested to see that someone else has noticed a link between Restorative Justice and Remembrance when I read these words of Jane Miller-Ashton, Correctional Service of Canada, in a background package prepared a few months ago:

As I write this note, September 11, 2002 is approaching and there are signs that we are collectively preparing for a time of remembering. This word remembering has always fascinated me within the context of the work of restorative justice. It strikes me that it is no mere coincidence that Remembrance Day in Canada falls so close in time to Restorative Justice Week. Remembrance Day ... a time when we honour our war dead. But a time also when we tend to surface in very public ways our longing for peace and the fervent hope tat we hold out that so many lives were not lost in vain, that we have learned something better.

How shattered the lives are of any family whose household is rocked with the results of serious violence. how essential it is for victims of traumas such as these to feel a sense of connection to people and actions that bring support and healing. how important for offenders to have ways to express their remorse and responsibility, to repair harm, to grown past pain. How desperate we are as citizens and neighbours to find shalom, courage and meaning in the aftermath of the disorder of crime and conflict in our communities.

This past year I had an opportunity (says Miller-Ashton) .... in South Africa to conduct training on Restorative Justice with a group of South African correctional staff. ..... one morning stands out. It was a time when, each in turn, we named a person in our lives who had been very important to us. we shared what we had learned from that individual. Those intangible gifts remembered, created bonds of understanding among us and reminded us of strengths that we carry from those who have gone before. .... there was a sense, despite our diversity, of being in a common place and of having a strong counter-voice to offer against the violence and pain - a growing faith that we could re-member our world, could seek to sew the pieces of commuity together again, could live in more understanding, restorative and loving ways.

We felt collectively a small movement "Towards a Justice that Heals".

So, what is this thing called Restorative Justice, which is somehow linked to remembering what has happened in a healing way? Restorative Justice seeks to make things right, to bring balance and harmony back into the community and the lives of victims of wrong-doing. Making things right can take many forms, from face-to-face encounter and dialogue between victim and offender, to sentencing circles inspired by Aboriginal traditions, to bringing victim and offender together with their supporters to discuss the harm done and to create restorative solutions, to developing communities of support which include the important element of holding the offender accountable for the offence. Restorative justice can also include community service and reparation to the victim.

What all of these programs have in common is that they focus on repairing the harm done when an offence is committed, rather than simply blaming and punishing. That does not mean that offenders "get off lightly". On the contrary: most offenders who have participated in some form of restorative justice say that it's much harder to face their victims and community members than simply to "do time". Restorative justice encourages offenders to take personal responsibility for their actions, and to set about repairing the harm they have caused to victims and the community. The theme of this year's Restorative Justice Week is that phrase at the end of the piece I quoted: "Towards a Justice that Heals", focusing on the need to remember in a way that binds up the broken and truly re-members, makes whole again. I believe we can usefully expand our understanding of this healing process to encompass all our ways of dealing with one another, whether they involve the criminal and civil laws of society or the much harder-to-define norms of moral conduct that we accept as groups.

Some people still believe that a retributive approach to justice will give people what they need. Very simply: if I break into somebody's house and steal a television set, or if I rape somebody or murder somebody, then we sit you down and say to you, "Joe Worth, you have hurt us; now we are going to hurt you." Here's a letter to the Editor of a national newspaper not long ago which perfectly illustrates this approach, I think:

After having read the article describing the alleged knifepoint rapes of several inmates at Kingston Pen by [a] convicted killer ..... I must say that I feel no sympathy whatsoever for those inmates who have been violated. As stated in the article, Kingston Pen is home to more than 400 inmates, a majority of whom are sex offenders. As I look at the situation, I see a clear-cut case of poetic justice. What goes around, comes around.

That is the way the justice system has been operating for hundreds of years and still somehow we don't see the kind of justice which makes for a better society. Surely there is a better way, a way of restorative justice, a way more in tune with this button given to me by a Mennonite to wear along with a poppy: "To Remember Is To Work For Peace." The poppy symbol itself is restorative in many senses, too - the donations it produces are used for help and healing, and it reminds us of the need to "take up the torch" of working for a better world. There's little or no sense of wishing retribution as we remember those who died in war.

In the world of criminal justice, it's different - it's still largely about punishment, retribution. But in the words of the Corrections Service of Canada, they (the very people responsible for administering our retributive justice system, are committed to the wider use of restorative justice throughout Canadian society. The people most involved with criminals, point out that when an offence is committed, the lives of those directly involved, offender as well as victim, will never be the same again. In a less visible way, the lives of those in the community are also changed. As important as the harm done by the offence, is the way in which a society responds, to help close the wounds and restore harmony. Correctional Service Canada is most concerned, naturally, with crime -- that is, with offences against the law of the land. I think, though, that the concept of restorative justice is even more widely applicable; I have in mind the ways in which right relationships can be restored when wrongs of all kinds have been done, whether or not they can be considered criminal offences.

Choosing the path of restorative, rather than retributive justice, offers hope -- the hope of holding offenders accountable in ways that promote reparation and reintegration, the hope of helping victims heal, the hope of a safer, more peaceful community. The move towards this deeper kind of justice is gaining momentum, but the work of shifting public attitudes and practices remains a huge challenge, as that Globe and Mail letter, written by an educated, thoughtful person, testifies. I think communities such as this congregation, committed to justice, equity and compassion in human relations, can play a key role in this shift, as we respond to the increasing sense of dissatisfaction and frustration with our current justice system. There's the growth of victims' rights groups, the hardening of public attitudes towards the early release of offenders, the calls for tougher punishment, concerns over the slow pace of justice and costly prisons (even as bigger and more centralized prisons are being built) and the demand by ordinary people for a more active role in the policies and programmes related to justice.

At the heart of all this dissatisfaction there seems to be a growing consensus that the needs of wronged people are not being sufficiently attended to, that offenders are not being held accountable for their actions in ways that are meaningful, and that community voices about safety and the ability to trust one another are not being heard. Along with these concerns, we can find a movement towards a different way of thinking about justice services and the way we implement them. This movement towards more restorative rather than retributive goals is gradually gaining favour in Canada and in many countries around the globe.

So what is restorative justice? There's no single acceptable definition, but it's generally agreed that restorative justice puts energy into the future, not into what is past. It focuses on what needs to be healed, what needs to be repaid, what needs to be learned as the result of an injustice. It looks at what needs to be strengthened if such things are not to happen again. It carries the spirit of the poppy and the Mennonite button: to fully recognize and remember what has happened is to work for a better way.

There are various models or practices of restorative justice being used across the country, usually in relation to criminal offences, but capable of being extrapolated to other kinds of wrong-doing. One of them is "Victim-Offender Mediation", a model which started in Canada 25 years ago and which has proven very helpful in assisting victims and offenders to find a sense of satisfaction, closure and healing in the aftermath of crime. Victim-offender mediation is a process that provides an opportunity for victims and offenders to meet in a safe and structured setting with the assistance of a trained mediator. During these meetings, victims often tell the offender directly about the crime's physical, emotional and financial impact on their lives; they receive answers to lingering questions about what happened, and they participate directly in finding some ways to make things right - or at least better. The offender, in turn, is given opportunities to make apologies, answer questions and develop reparation plans and to gain some insight for their own growth. Here's one story of victim-offender mediation:

Elizabeth had been extremely traumatized by an armed robbery during her shift at a convenience store. The masked robbers had screamed death threats at her as they held her captive with a knife to her throat. Months after the robbers had been caught, her life was completely changed. She had lost 85 lbs; insomnia kept her awake night after night. Family and friends became impatient with her. Elizabeth thought that she might get some relief once she had an opportunity to testify at the trial and see the offenders get what they deserved. However, as the trial date approached, she found out that not only was she not going to be allowed to testify, she wasn't even considered a victim in the crime -- the convenience store was identified as the only wronged party.

Elizabeth was frustrated by the thought that the judge would never know the harm these men had caused her. She was determined to get someone to listen to her, and yet the system kept blocking all her attempts. As time went on she became terrified that the offenders would come back to get her. She became isolated from her family and friends, emotionally wrecked and physically ill. Finally, after two years and many counselling sessions, Elizabeth realized that she had to somehow find a way to "let it go".

Through a thoughtful mediation process with one of the offenders, Elizabeth got the answers to the questions that had haunted her. She learned that he had never intended to come back and harm her, and that he was genuinely sorry for what he'd done. They struck an agreement about how they would greet ech other on the street when he was released from prison and returned to their home town. As they finished, they stood up and shook hands. "You know," Elizabeth said, "we'll never be friends, you and I -- we come from different worlds, but I want you to know that I wish you luck and I forgive you."

Leaving the prison, Elizabeth said, "It's over. It's closed. It's done." A year later, Elizabeth had not had a single nightmare. "I don't feel like the same person," she said. "There is no more fear. It's just gone."

Other models of restorative justice, often drawn from native tradition, include Community Conferencing and Peacemaking Circles. Running through them is the concept that offences don't occur in isolation from a community but within it, and that the community has a continuing role to play in achieving justice. Some lawyers believe that they have a special role -- that they should start working to prevent crime much as dentists work to prevent tooth decay. One lawyer says, "My view is that we have to think of our work in terms of conflict resolution and not necessarily as [adversarial] combatants." This lawyer became an advocate of restorative justice after comparing outcomes for two clients. One was thrown into jail for house-breaking in his early teens, abused in prison and went on to spend much of his life in prison, at a direct cost to the public of more than a million dollars. The other client was caught red-handed by a home owner who called police and then got into a conversation with the youth about why he was committing the crime. The home owner subsequently befriended the youth, landing him a job and playing a big brother role. "That was six years ago," says the lawyer, "and the young man has not been in trouble with the law since."

The Mennonite Central Committee, an organization which many of us deeply respect for their work towards justice, equity and compassion, suggests that three of the most important ways we can work toward restorative justice in our personal lives are these:

Show concern and commitment to both the wronged person and the offender, involving both of them in the process of justice.

Work toward the healing of the harm that's been done, empowering the harmed persons and responding to their needs as they see them. The offended person should be free from the burden of rehabilitation or assisting offenders, unless they choose to do so.

Show respect to everyone involved - the people who've been wronged, the offenders and all those who've been affected.

All unresolved conflict hurts relationship and community. Restorative justice, with its emphasis on inclusiveness, reparation, healing and accountability, offers a perspective that can inform the way we pursue community building, healthy work environments and family situations, and fulfilling interpersonal relationships. To jump back to the title of this talk (When to Remember/Restore? When to Forgive/Forget? I want to suggest tentative answers: When to remember? Always. When to restore? Always, so far as we possibly can. When to forgive? As soon as we can find it in ourselves to do so. When to forget? Never. Let us instead learn from what we remember; let us re-member, and commit ourselves to heal rather than to harm, in as many ways as we possibly can.